Chapter One
Lindsay
The noisy, humid atmosphere makes me miserable. I have worked in the same place since I was fifteen and I still can’t get used to the place. Maybe it’s because I want to get away from here so badly but can’t seem to escape. I might very well be in the same town working the same crappy job until I’m old and gray. The thought makes me even more miserable. Letting out a low groan, I head to table two with a tray.
“Hey, Lindsay, where the hell is my burger?” a raspy voice calls out.
I pause, take a deep breath to control my temper and turn with a friendly smile. “Relax, Patrick, you just ordered five minutes ago. Give the cook a little time, huh?”
Patrick, a local and long-time customer of the only diner in town, lets out a huff and sits back. He mutters something under his breath and goes back to tapping his fingers impatiently on the table. Everyone is used to the old man’s behavior, but that doesn’t stop him from getting on my last nerve.
“Here you go, folks,” I say, placing the tray on table two and unloading it. “Enjoy your meal.”
“Thanks, honey,” Mrs. Jacobs, another frequent customer, says. Her husband nods at me and gives me a smile.
As I walk off, I step to the side just as a hand reaches out, brushing against my leg. “Yup, saw that coming,” I whisper. “Keep your hands to yourself, Martin,” I say, glaring at the middle-aged, balding man leering at me. He tries to grab my bottom every time I pass his table. The thing is it’s an everyday occurrence. I sigh and push the swinging double doors to the kitchen open. “I need another job.”
“Martin tried to grab your ass again?”
I glance at the woman flipping beef on the massive grill. Marion is the fifty-year-old cook who has manned the grill ever since I can remember. I grew up seeing her at Eddie’s Corner; she’s like a permanent fixture here.
“Yeah.”
Marion throws me a sympathetic look. “Well, you can’t blame the old fool too much. Look at you! You’re a stunner. You know, I was the town beauty back in my day.” She trails off, looking into space, reliving her glory days.
I smile. “I’m sure you were, Marion. Thanks for the compliment. Martin’s behavior isn’t the only reason I need a need a new job, though.” It goes beyond being harassed by customers. Working in the diner is a reminder of how stagnant my life is. I’ve been here year after year, dealing with the same people, people who look at me with pity. I’m a twenty-one year old who was once full of promise. Now I’m stuck in the small town of Lakeville, working two minimum-wage jobs to make a living. I would say that my life sucks. Well, not completely. There’s a pair of green eyes waiting for me at home, eyes that look at me with unconditional love. My three-year-old daughter is my saving grace. I’m reminded why I work so hard. I want to make life for her as good as I can.
It doesn’t seem like I’m doing such a great job right now, though. We live in a cramped, one-bedroom apartment, and I can’t always buy her the things she wants. Sadness begins to creep up on me, but an irritated voice jerks me from my thoughts.
“Williams! What’s the matter with you? Get your head in the game. We have a full house.”
“Er, s-sorry Mr. Edmond,” I stutter, to the owner of the diner.
“Yeah, yeah. Get back to work and stop day dreaming, kid.”
“No need to get your panties in a twist, Eddie,” Marion rasps, her voice thick from years of smoking. Mr. Edmond sends her a glare, but doesn’t say another word to me. I give Marion an appreciative smile, and she winks.
“You finished with Patrick’s order? He’s out there having a cow, the impatient fool.”
Marion snorts. “I’m finished. If he gives you any grief when you get back out there, you tell him I know where he lives.” She waves her spatula around threateningly, making me laugh.
“Yes, ma’am.” I go through the door, back into the hum of chatter. It’s been a long day, and lunch hour is no joke. There are only three more hours remaining in my shift, but today three hours seems extra long.
I serve and clean up tables non-stop until I feel like my feet will explode. No doubt they will be the size of balloons by the time I get home. Finally, the crowd dwindles, and I slow my pace. My phone vibrates in my apron pocket, and I fish it out. Glancing around to make sure Mr. Edmond is nowhere in sight, I check the caller ID. My lips purse as I contemplate taking the call or not.
Amanda. The name flashes across the screen. My finger hovers over the icon to accept the call, but I lose my nerve and shove the phone back into my pocket. I close my eyes briefly and let out a breath. Guilt assails me for ignoring her call. She’s my best friend. But things changed after high school, and it’s all my fault. I’m the one who distanced myself from her and just about everyone else. What else could do I do? All of my childhood friends have left Lakeville, Connecticut and moved on to live amazing lives. And here I am, an utter failure.
It’s my shame that pushes me to turn away from everyone. I have ignored countless calls from people who were once a part of my life. Admitting that I haven’t gone on to become the brilliant artist that everyone thought I would be was beyond humiliating. Hell, I didn’t even go to college. My phone vibrates again. I don’t bother to answer, knowing it’s Amanda calling again. I don’t avoid her calls all the time; occasionally I have to pick up, so that it doesn’t look so bad. Then, I lie and tell her how busy I’ve been, and that’s why I often miss her calls. Yeah, I’m a liar, and I’m going to hell. When I speak to Amanda, she always asks how my life is going. She doesn’t know the pain the question causes. Plus, there is the fact that the father of my child is none other than her older brother. She has no idea, of course, and neither does anyone else. Although someone might figure it out one of these fine days. Casey looks more like her father with each passing day.
I push the thought of my daughter’s father aside, until I get home, anyway, where I can pine over him in private. I wonder what Amanda was calling about. With a slight shrug, I get back to cleaning tables. She usually leaves a message so more than likely I’ll find out.