* Prompts in bold, week of 12/16-19
Dale Diggins sat at his regular spot at the counter and ordered the usual: salmon with green beans, mashed potatoes, and extra tarter sauce on the side. Given this was Nappanee, Indiana and the fact that Dale was dining in a rail car diner, it seemed improbable, if not geographically impossible that this was the very best dish on the dinner specials. But he'd sampled the entire menu several times over. Not to mention Dale knew a thing or two about quality seafood, having ordered fish in a candlelit restaurant in New York once—the trip he got to wave to Noreen on TV as he waited in the cold outside the Today Show, before she left him—and had dined twice in Chicago on business, before he got laid off.
Breakfast at the diner was a whole different story, though. Eggs were the star of the show, any way you wanted 'em, with a whole column of add-ons. His favorite combo was goat cheese and bacon. Carol said no one in the history of The Tasty Spoon Diner ordered eggs this way, in fact no one ever ordered the goat cheese at all, he was the only one. Dale enjoyed this fact about himself, that he was more or less the Anthony Bourdaine of Nappanee. A bit heavier around the middle and lighter on the hairline, maybe. But no slouch.
He was also the sort of man who didn't mind eating alone. Some folks cared a lot about that sort of thing, obsessed with appearances—but not him. Eating by yourself, especially at a table, was a sign of confidence. Especially today, of all days, his 59th birthday. He felt a special kind of freedom in this, the adventure of ordering anything he wanted off the menu, with no one to roll eyes at him from across the booth. He didn't even bother taking his jacket off as he ate, which would have driven Noreen nuts. He thought of ordering a whole second slice of custard pie, and maybe even a glass of merlot. This was his farewell dinner, after all.
But Carol wasn't in today, his favorite waitress going on ten years now, as close to him as his own Aunt Gertie (god rest her soul). Fever of 102, Arnie yelled from the kitchen. Why tonight? Dale thought. Of all nights? Carol knew his plan, she'd even encouraged him to go. Cash in, tune out, quit yammering on and just do it already. And now she wasn't even here to send him off! How could she?
In Carol's place was a pretty young blond—tidy, thickish and a looked a bundle of nerves. Mid thirties? He could never be sure about these things, but he was certain he'd never seen her before. It looked like she'd never waitressed in her whole life. She stood, alert like a prairie dog, hovering near the kitchen. When Arnie shoved his entree on the line she spirited it over with two hands, no tray, and dropped it quickly to the table with barely any eye contact.
"Let me know if I can—"
"Sure. No—wait! Can I ask you somethin?"
Startled, she nearly tripped turning back around. Jumpy little thing.
"You new here?"
The waitress shoved a chunk of hair behind her ear and shook her head. "Just visiting my cousin for a little while, up from Toledo. Mr. Arnold said I could fill in."
"I come in here a lot, so I knew you were new. Ha! Get it? I knew you were new." She didn't smile back.
"How're you liking Nappanee so far?"
The girl, woman, whatever she was, looked like she was struggling to find the words. Was she tired? Distracted? "It's... pretty here." She hesitated. "A little boring, maybe."
He put his napkin to his lips, pushing away from the counter. "Huh. Yeah." How right she was. He nodded. "It is, isn't it? Boring, I mean. What's your name? I'm Dale. Dale Diggins."
"Joan... Durfee."
"Are you from Toledo originally? And are you staying long?"
"Not originally, no." She backed up a bit. "And not staying either, just passin through. Workin to keep busy, maybe pick up some shifts, blend in for a while. Few weeks maybe?"
"You on the lam or somethin?" Dale chided. "Listen, instead of that merlot—I changed my mind. I'd like one of those fancy coffees Arnie's got back there. With rum, or yeah, Irish Cream. Tell Arnie not to be stingy with the sprinkles, either." He smiled widely. "It's my birthday."
"Your birthday! Well, then." It was the first time she softened. "You got it."
When she returned with his two helpings of custard pie and the minutes-away promise of an adult beverage he replied, "So if you're only passing through, are you running from something, or someone?"
Her eyes flickered just once. "More of a fresh-start kind of thing, you could say."
"Now why would a pretty girl like you need a fresh start?" He knew he was being nosey, but hell, he'd probably never see her again. His flight was in a matter of hours. "Not to pry, of course. But I've been told by many sources that I'm an excellent confidant." He winked in her direction, but Arnie coughed in the background and he wasn't sure if she caught it.
"I really should get back to work. This is my first day on the job and Mr. Arnold is watching—"
Dale said loudly, "Arnie? Oh, poo. He's a teddy bear. All bark, no bite." Arnie never glanced up from the grill to throw him the bird. The old coot. Dale was certainly going to miss it around here.
He took a moment to look at her, really look at her. What was it about her? Her stringy hair and soft thighs, visibly doughy under dark fabric, weren't usually his type yet he imagined both of them, clinging and moist, in the tropics.
"So you're the adventurous type, perhaps? All the way from Toledo, huh? I bet you've seen some of the world."
She shrugged. "Maybe. Been to Mexico a couple times."
"Thought so. I can tell these things." Dale looked at her squarely. "I'm very sensitive. To energies, that is. They call it an 'aura'. In fact, I can see yours quite clearly. It's very bright."
She considered this, and him, for a moment. Maybe for the first time.
"Yep. I can always tell when someone has that little something, that spark. And I get it. For some people, maybe it's just that we have a little more—" he said this under his breath, glancing at Arnie who was blasting whipped cream from a canister, "savviness?—for us it can be hard to fit in around here." He smiled at her knowingly. "People can be very jealous. And retaliatory. I know from experience."
She glanced around the diner. There was an elderly woman eating a pork chop and a man, combing his hair, drinking coffee.
"That's seems like exactly it," she agreed.
He brightened. "Funny you should mention Mexico. I was about to head South myself."
Joan paused. "Oh?"
"Way south. Yes, siree-bob. Flying out tonight." It was too bad he had to tell all this to a perfect stranger, instead of getting a final pep talk from Carol.
"Everybody here already knows this about me—did you meet Jan and Carol yet?—but every year on my birthday, I treat myself to something special. A few years ago it was this coat," he petted it fondly. A thought crossed his face."Actually, starting tomorrow I won't even need this anymore. I was supposed to give it away but I forgot. Do you want it?" Dale pulled the heavy coat off the hook and tried to hand it to her. "It's worth good money I assure you—quality wool."
She shook her head. "I—no. I'm, I'm not hurting for cash. Just workin here for the experience, like I said. But it's 35 degrees, why are you giving away your coat?"
Dale, grateful for the opening, sighed for effect.
"The short version? Let's just say last year for my birthday I bought my ex-wife a divorce. So this year, I'm cutting town and buying myself a brand new life."
"A life...without coats?"
"Better. A life without cares." He grinned. "Only white sand, blue water and Pina Coladas for me, my friend."
Joan relaxed even more. "And what white-sand, frosted-beverage beach are you headed to, Mr...what was it again?"
"Dale," he grinned. "Got myself a one way ticket to St. Thomas. The island, not the church in Hammond," he clarified.
Joan smiled, warming to him like melted cheese. From the kitchen, Arnie sneezed.
"Yep, gonna open a little restaurant, like a snack hut, right on the beach. But get this: it's also going to serve morning food, like breakfast burritos and the best egg omelettes you've ever tasted—other than Arnie's of course. I sort of got the idea--"
She drew a long, audible breath. "Unbelievable." She paused. "St. Thomas? That's exactly where I was headed. I've been wanting to vacation there since I was a little girl! It's literally where I was headed to next, was just waiting for a settlement to come through for traveling funds. Can't spend it quite yet. But wow, what are the odds, huh?"
"Is that so?" Dale couldn't believe his luck."Well then, I suppose you know that St. Thomas is a famous destination for snorkeling. You snorkel?"
Animated and buoyant, she seemed to be bobbing around him now. "I absolutely looove snorkeling! Learned when I was in Mexico, snorkeled all over the place. Along with how to make really authentic Mexican food, recipes for Margaritas, chimachungas." She paused. "Breakfast Burritos."
Dale stopped short. Overcome, he shook his head.
"Wow. Just—wow. Of all days to meet you." He paused, just slightly, and then added, "Mrs.--?"
She eyed her finger, slipping the band off as she said "Oh, no, not a 'Mrs'! I'm not married." She added, "Anymore, anyway. I just forget to stop wearing the ring."
"Oh?"
Glumly, eyes glistening, she looked from Dale, to the kitchen. "My husband got into a boating accident a few months ago."
Again, Dale could hardly believe his luck. "I'm so sorry to hear that."
She paused, then resumed composure. "Don't be. It was very tragic, I was a mess over it for months, but it's all over now. I'm just trying to move on best I can." She startled herself again. "Oh, and there's your coffee." Like a dart frog she jumped across the room but ambled back elephant-like, leading a cup and saucer topped with a speckeled bouffant of whipped cream Wryly, Dale could see Arnie watching them from the kitchen. He tried to ignore this.
"Nope. All alone."
They blinked at each other.
"Well, we sure do have a lot in common," She said. "We both lost spouses, we both love St. Thomas, we're both traveling alone..." She trailed off, but feigned precaution, "You're not a mass murderer are you? Some kind of stalker, like you've been following me around for weeks?"
Dale pondered this."Well, if you think about it, maybe I have been following you, for my whole life. And it just took up until just now to find you." He looked at her meaningfully, licking his spoon clean. "That's what some people think. Like those who believe in past lives think. Do you believe in past lives?"
"Hmm. Yes, yes I think I do."
"I just get the sense that you and I, we're so much alike. It can't be an accident." Dale suddenly furrowed. "Oh, this is terribly embarrassing, I really meant to remember your name. Did you tell me...?"
She tittered. "Don't worry, I practically forget it myself sometimes. It's Joan. Don't have my pin yet," she said sheepishly, fingering her broad, bare chest where a name tag would be, just above her breast. She let her fingers linger there. "But some people call me June." She lowered her chin. "Would you like to call me June?"
"June? Like the month?" He stuttered. "I'd love to. June's such a springy time of year!" It suddenly dawned on him what he needed to do. "Listen, June. I don't want to be too forward. But I feel like you and I have a connection."
She smiled, warmly. "Really? Because I was thinking the same thing."
He straightened a bit. "This might sound crazy, just plain insane. But would you like to come with me? To St. Thomas? Because I have an extra ticket."
June's eyes widened, if only slightly.
"I could really use the company. Not to mention I'll be hiring staff soon for my new snack hut, so you'd have a job. You'd be perfect for it. A real business asset. Since you obviously get along great with people. And with me." He smiled.
June nodded carefully. "Why did you buy an extra ticket?"
"Well technically it's a 'use anytime' ticket, I can transfer names. It was just in case I needed to cash it in. For a way back." He tapped the table, knocking twice. "God forbid. Like an escape hatch...or insurance. But hey, who needs it? This is more important. Carpe diem!"
"Insurance?"
"Yeah, you know. Like an insurance policy on life, or plans, or whatever. That's what the ticket was for. But I'm over it."
There was a pause. June looked at him funny.
"Insurance, right. I actually know a little bit about that stuff. Got a huge windfall after my late husband's accident." She leaned against the counter.
"You know, life insurance is so important these days, I highly recommend it. I don't know where I'd be without that little nest egg from Ron. Do you have life insurance, Dale?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe through my old company? Can't remember. So, like, you're going to be... financially well off?"
She checked her watch, and then looked at the door.
"Thanks to my husband's good planning, certainly. More than ok. We both will, if things... work out." She looked at him through her eyelashes. "When did you say your flight was tonight, Dale?
"In a few hours. Midnight, actually. You wouldn't have much time to pack but you know, when we got there I could help you cover—"
"Don't worry, I don't have much. I'll be ready. Where should I meet you?"
"At the bus station—maybe catch a ride together?"
"Wouldn't it be better if we made arrangements for a car, Dale?" She dropped her voice. "It's more private. And more comfortable." She added, as if an afterthought: "And I think you're right about needing a few things when we arrive—on account of having such short notice. But gosh that's sweet of you to think of it." She continued, "Of course I'll pay you back, cover it all when my check comes in. But you know how insurance is...just heaps of paperwork." She was already gathering her purse, pulling off her apron. Dale looked over at Arnie, arms outstretched, indignant. Dale shrugged.
"Sure, if you need me to. I mean, there's probably a lot for you to consider before you—"
"No, I'm sure. Thank you for the invitation, Dale! You're absolutely right." Her eyes flashed, and she looked deeply into his. "We're a lot alike, you and I. We're...different from everyone else." She waltzed over to their coats. "It's like we both know exactly what we want out of life, you know?"
He had to hand it to this intoxicating, urgent, adventurous woman—she certainly knew how to get a man moving.
Too quickly, he stood up. "To da Islands, mon!" As he he righted himself, he realized he was a bit tipsy from his boozy coffee. "I dunno, Joan. I mean, June. I have this weird intuition...that we're going to start a really wonderful life together in St. Thomas. I can feel it. And I'm basically never wrong about these things." He wondered how long it'd be before they'd kiss. He hoped it was soon.
June gathered up a pile of her coat, his coat, and the saddle bag he had next to him, while Dale picked up his rain umbrella. He shook it vigorously, "I'm done with you, old thing! Only Sunbrella's from here on out!"
He tipped a victorious, imaginary hat to Arnie who waved him off, exasperated. But as the kitchen door swung shut, Arnie yelled after him, "Good luck Dale Diggins, and good riddance to you!" Dale was happy to have heard it. He turned back to the door, where June stood waiting to take his arm. The whole aura thing, it didn't seem so bullshitty with June. There was a faint yellow glow around the outside edges of his eyes, getting wider all the time, a lovely shade. He felt like he could swim in it.
"I can feel it, too, Dale. We're just the sort of people who don't let anything get in our way, aren't we? Nothing. At. All."
She hid the darkest of smiles as she led Dale Diggins out of the railcar diner into the cold autumn air, trailing breadcrumbs of scents like burnt coffee, bacon, fresh pineapple and whipped cream.
No comments:
Post a Comment