Kitchen prep at Charlie’s Diner was almost Willa’s favorite time of day. It was extremely satisfying to be busy and productive, checking one thing after another off her list. With a lopsided smile on her lips, she caught her reflection in the surface of the walk-in fridge. She may have been years and years out of elementary school, but she still liked the concept of stickers and stars. Accomplishing things felt good. Felt right.

Satisfying and soul deep.

She just wasn’t used to doing the diner’s kitchen prep all alone. Normally her boyfriend, Charlie Calvin, was there working alongside her, but over the last few weeks she’d seen him less and less at the diner and at her apartment.

Looking up at the clock she realized he was likely going to be a no show again. With a huff, she pushed her bangs off her forehead with the back of her hand. Mimicking Padme Lakshmi, she ground her back teeth together. “Today, Chefs, your Quickfire is the mise en place relay… all by yourself. You have a long, long list of things to do… and no one to help you! So, let’s get ready and ‘go’!”

The onions in the bowl beside her cutting board started to disappear under the rapid descent of her knife. Chop, chop, chop, she’d stopped crying from onions a long time ago, or she’d have died of dehydration. As she methodically crunched through the bulbs, very aware of the ticking clock on the wall over her head, she almost missed the front door of the diner opening.

What she didn’t miss was Charlie’s voice piercing into the kitchen from the pass-through window. “Willa!”

“In the kitchen!” She shot the words back at him before she mumbled. “Like you didn’t know that.”

“Can you come out here?”

The knife continued to crunch through the onion again and again. “I’m doing prep. Hurry up and get your apron on.”

“Don’t worry about that, just come out here, I’ve got news!”

A quick glance up at the clock told her she had to worry. Their usual early morning group was likely to start showing up in a few minutes and she had more to chop. “Charlie, come on, this isn’t funny.”

The front door opened again, the bell above jingling its usual jovial tune. “Morning, Mr. Poston!”

Willa’s head sagged down until her chin almost touched her chest. “Perfect.” Moving over to the sink she washed her hands and dried them before pulling the order pad from her apron pocket and the pen from over her ear. Stepping out of the kitchen she saw the dining room was just as she expected it. Charlie was standing in the middle of the floor and Mr. Poston was walking himself to his usual booth in the corner. She transferred the order pad to the other hand and picked up the coffee pot on the way to his booth.

The older gentleman had been coming to Charlie’s before it was Charlie’s and all he had to utter was, “The usual, please, Willa dear.” She poured him three quarters of a cup to leave him room for his cream and sugar and headed back toward the kitchen.

But Charlie had other ideas, stepping in front of the doorway to the kitchen. “Look, Willa, we need to talk.”

“Go ahead and talk,” she told him, “but I need to get an order started, and I still have a ton of prep for lunch.” She tried to edge around him, but he took hold of her arm.

“I came in to tell you that you’ve in charge of the kitchen today.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. She always had the charge of the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“I’m going on a trip to Las Vegas for a few days.”

Jealousy cut through her. “Is this a last minute thing?”

He had the decency to look a little ashamed. “Not really. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, but now I’m ready to take the leap.”

“The leap? You planning on bungee jumping or something?”

The idea seemed to have some impact on him. “That’s an idea too, but not what I was talking about.”

She forced down the disappointment she felt and focused on what she did have control over. “Well, you have a good time, Marie and I can keep things going until-”

“Well, that’s another thing.”

Willa tried to read Charlie’s sheepish expression. “What? Don’t tell me she quit!” She groaned and shook her head. “She’s such a flake.”

“Marie’s going with me.”

The words hit her like a wall of cold air, robbing her of her breath. She didn’t really want to ask- no, she did. If anything, Willa was kind of a masochist in that way. “Why?”

His color deepened until it looked like his cheeks were burning. “Marie and I just… click.” He snapped his fingers and smiled like it was supposed to be cute. “She’s so bubbly and effusive-”

“She’s fake, and a kiss-ass.”

“She’s positive and upbeat.” Charlie shook his head. “I’m not saying you’re not sweet, but… you’re always so-” He seemed frozen in place for a moment as if his brain had become that big spinning beach ball of death on the computer screen and Willa wanted to fill in the blanks just so they could get to the point.

She was always so… pleasant? Helpful? Willing? Agreeable? Amazing?

“Complacent? Tentative?” He seemed to be searching through a thesaurus.

Willa’s own brain stopped searching for the right word and pondered over his solution. “Tentative?”

“Hmm,” he obviously wasn’t convinced, “oh, I know. Mousy.”

“Mousy?” Well that had gone downhill fast. “Why would you say that?”

Pleased with himself, he smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, I think that’s the word I was looking for.”

You want to know the word I’m looking for?

“And that’s great if you just want to be a line cook all your life, Willa, but that’s just not me.”

She nodded. It was the truth. As long as she’d known Charlie, he had a singular focus on his dream. Culinary School – Check. Stage at a fancy restaurant – Check. Own his own restaurant – Check. So far Charlie Calvin was batting a thousand.

“And you’re just happy to help.”

It felt like a smack hard across her face. “Isn’t that what couples do, Charlie? Help each other?”

“Oh, wow.” The air rushed from his lungs, hunching his shoulders ever so slightly. And then she heard the tone of his voice. Add that to the look on his face that said, ‘Oh, isn’t that so cute!’ She felt like she was about to lose the breakfast she hadn’t even had time to eat yet. “About the couples thing…”

The front door flew open and Marie stepped inside like a ray of sunshine. From the top of her wide-brimmed straw hat, to her button-front sundress, and down to the strappy little sandals, she looked like she’d walked right off the front page of a spring catalog. “Charlie, are you ready to go?” She looked at the blingy little beaded watch on her wrist. “We have to hurry to catch our plane.”

Go. Plane. Hurry.

Yes, Willa was absolutely sure she was about to throw up. The usually saccharine sweetness of Marie’s voice was now at an extreme. Diabetic insulin shots were definitely in Willa’s future.

“One minute, baby.”

Oh, it just kept getting better and better. Even Mr. Poston in the corner booth was actively hiding behind the newspaper to avoid the carnage.

Charlie took her by the shoulders, his lanky form looking more and more like Shaggy every minute, so surreal was her life. He gave her a smile that she’d once seen on the face of a summer camp counselor right before they told her that she’d always have her personality.

“Willa, sweetie, you’re such a dear girl-”

The ‘dear girl’ was nearly ready to clock him if he didn’t stop trying to placate her instead of getting to the point.

“You’re just not the one for me. I need someone who can be the face of my diner. The one out there in front of the customers, making them feel at home. Marie and I are much more… in sync.”

“Now you sound like a boy band, Charlie.”

His hands tightened around her shoulders as she tried to pull away. “You’re not going to cry, are you?” He leaned closer to look her straight in the eye. “Oh good, you’re not wearing a lot of eye make-up, otherwise I’d get you some napkins.”

He was such a gentleman, wasn’t he?

“Look, I’m really glad we’re getting all of this out in the open. Really, it’s going to be better this way.”

Right.

“Look, Charlie, I think I get it, but I just have one question.”

Relief brightened his face a shade. “Shoot.”

Oh, if I only could.

“I’ll go ahead and get through today, but what about the rest of the time until you come back? Are you closing the diner?”

That seemed to rock him even more than his news had done to Willa. “Why would I do that?”

An angry buzz filled her head. “Because you’re dumping me and going on vacation with Marie! If you’re firing me, who’s going to run the diner?”

“I’m not firing you, silly! You’re great at the stove.”

“So, I’m going to be working the diner with who?” She just couldn’t wait to hear this one.

“We’re never that busy,” he waved off her concern, “you’ve got this.” He leaned forward and pressed a sloppy kiss on her forehead. “Besides, all the tips will be yours, right?”

Oh yes, absolutely brilliant.

“Work it how you want it with the hours, but when Marie and I get back, we’re going to revamp the whole place and take the diner to a new level.” By the time he made it to the door, Willa was only sort of considering throwing a sugar dispenser at his head. “Think of this as a chance to figure out what’s next for you, without me hanging around, distracting you.”

Distracting. You mean you hanging around, inspiring my murderous tendencies?

Willa opened her mouth to say something. What, she’ll never know, because Marie stepped back into the doorway with a pointed look on her face. “Charlie, come on!”

And that’s all it took to get Charlie moving toward the door.

When he stepped up beside Marie, the once-hostess turned boyfriend poacher, lifted her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, and the early morning sunlight shone off the diamond on her finger.

As soon as the door shut behind them, the bell above the door jingling like laughter… aimed at her.

She seemed frozen to the floor for a long moment until Mr. Poston cleared his throat as he lowered the newspaper.

“Willa dear, if you’d rather close up, I can go home-”

“No, no,” she mustered up a smile, “the last thing I want to do is send you away. I like cooking, I’m good at it.”

“Is that what you want to do with your life, Willa? Work as a cook? You’re really good at it. You keep me coming back here for two out of three meals a day most days.”

She blushed and felt her heart warm to his compliment. “I wouldn’t mind another job cooking, but it’s not what I want forever. I want a family. I want to find a kind and caring man, raise a houseful of kids. Cooking is just my favorite way to show I care. That’s why I’ve worked here, helping Charlie to build up the business so he could pursue the Culinary Degree he wanted. I thought… well, I guess I thought too much.”

“Too much of him, maybe. I’ve always thought you deserved better, but you seemed happy.”

“I was,” her sigh a long and heavy release of pent up pain, “I thought he was too, but maybe it was just because I wanted this thing between us to be real.”

He smiled at her and she saw more than pity in his eyes, she saw genuine affection. “You’re too good for him, by far. I’d say you’re lucky in some ways. The only thing that girl knows how to do is her nails, and right now she has them firmly in his backside. They’ll end up tearing each other apart sooner rather than later, but you deserve a fresh start. And I know just the person to help.”

She paused before heading through the doorway into the kitchen. “Mr. Poston, you are a sweetheart. Don’t tell me… you have a spare fairy godmother in your pocket?”

He shook his head, a warm healthy glow high on his cheeks. “Just down the hall in my apartment building. Don’t you worry, dear. You’re going to put all of this behind you.”