CHAPTER FOUR
JEANIE
By the time I get home, having race-walked across town, I’m out of breath. Worked up and flustered from my encounter with Mason and his assumptions, I need a distraction.
Just what kind of girl does he think I am?
I’m sorting laundry, hurling it into baskets with more force than necessary.
I’m a virgin for crying out loud.
Not that he needs to know that. If anything, that fact has inspired far worse behavior before.
My watch beeps. I look down, realizing what time it is. I’ve got no more time for these aggravations. I check on Jerry, napping in his recliner, Jinx snuggled warmly on his lap, one of Jerry’s hands on his back mid-stroke.
Maybe I shouldn’t have rushed out so quickly. Mason’s piercing blue eyes did seem sincere when he tried to clarify, and I really want to do something special for Uncle Jerry.
Still, thinking about the way he called me a ‘pretty face’… Well, as Lola would have said, I could feel my blood boiling.
I grab my pale blue diner uniform and put it in my bag to change into once I get to work. They have a retro style that has more to do with the slow progression of time in this town than any efforts to hop on a vintage trend bandwagon. Sweeping my hair up into a high, loose bun, I study myself in the mirror.
I don’t usually wear much makeup save for a little mascara and the occasional soft cat eye. My body seems unspectacular to me, but I wonder what Mason saw.
With his strong, symmetrical features, stunningly icy eyes, wavy golden hair, and tall, muscular frame he’s probably propositioned by women all the time. Maybe I shouldn’t take it so personally. Then again, who knows, he might not even be single, though I didn’t see a ring. Still, a guy who looks like that is not likely to lack in female companionship.
Glancing at the clock, I hurry and throw the bag over my shoulder, dipping down to kiss Uncle Jerry on the head as I leave. His dinner is on the table and I’m hoping the mashed potatoes and gravy I snuck in will perk his appetite.
I smile at the familiar faces that have surrounded me my whole life as I head out through town. My best friend Ava was out of here the second we graduated, along with most of our grade, actually—heading off to colleges and universities, states, even countries away.
Part of me wonders what those places might be like, what sort of adventures are out there, but the bigger part of me knows what I have here is special. Some people might not like having everyone know each other’s business, but I love the closeness of our little community. When there’s a fire or someone has to go up to Bakersville for a surgery, the whole town pitches in. We take care of our own. We’re not just residents of a place, brought together by circumstance and coexisting, we’re a family. I know better than to take that for granted.
I wonder where Mason is from. I think the article said something about New York, but it seems so strange someone with the means to remodel and open a business like his would up and move to a little town like Silver Springs from a big city like that.
He’s mysterious in a town of no mystery. The biddies will be whispering about him today for sure.
I’m so distracted I don’t even see Clint jogging towards me from across the street until he’s already upon me.
Great, just what I need before I start my shift.
“Well, look who it is, little Miss High and Mighty. Where’s your white knight now, Jeanie?”
His ego always was fragile. I keep walking, trying to ignore him, but then, it’s been three years and he doesn’t seem to be getting the hint.
“You know, Jeanie,” he continues, “I’m only going to play nice for so long. You can’t keep treating me like shit forever.”
Ha! Me treating him like shit. That’s rich.
“Or what, Clint?” I tell him. “You’re going to take yourself off the table? Is that supposed to make me think twice? I’m not sure you realize this, but you’re not exactly some prize here, bucko.”
Bucko. Good one.
He steps in front of me, angrily blocking my way. “And what the fuck would you know about that, you uppity little bitch? You keep those knees closed so tight that shit’s gonna dry up and ain’t nobody gonna want it.”
Rolling my eyes, I push past him. “If it means you’ll finally leave me alone, that’s just fine by me.”
His eyes glitter viciously. “Or maybe I have it wrong. You spend so much time with that old man, maybe you’ve gotten a taste for geriatric dick.”
Without thinking, I slap him, my hand making sharp contact with his prickly, chin-strapped cheek.
“Don’t you dare talk about Jerry, you sick bastard,” I say, surprising myself with the surge of fiery anger.
He just smiles, the meanness in his eyes turning his features grotesque.
“Strong words from the queen of priss, but you think I didn’t see the way you were looking at that greasy mechanic? What’s his name? Mason? You’re just another bitch in heat. You think you’re something special, you’re dead wrong. You’re just another piece of small town ass, just another country whore. Deep down, you’re like every other chick who wants a dick in her. You have the gall to turn your nose up at me, I’m the hottest shit in this town, bitch. Sooner or later, you’re going to see. You all come crawling back. We’ll see if I even want you then.”
He storms off back across the street. My blood is pumping. I want to slap him again, but he’s already gone. I feel my cheeks growing pink and I glance around, relieved that no one is around. Still, the sense of embarrassment doesn’t fade right away.
Maybe because he hit too close to the fact you were thinking about Mason after all.
Focus! I’ll be late for work if I don’t hurry.
What the hell is wrong with men? I want to think Clint is his own special kind of jerk, but I don’t even know anymore.
I come up to Lexington Street and my work comes into view. Lexi’s Diner is a Silver Spring’s institution and a hub of activity this time in the afternoon.
I hurry around the back and rush up the steps to the kitchen. I bustle through the narrow space, trading hellos with everyone on my way to the cleaning closet where I hurriedly throw on my uniform like the world’s lamest superhero.
Luke is on the grill. I rub his buzzcut for luck as I pass by, our own little tradition. He’s Ava’s seventeen-year-old brother, and by extension, something of a little brother to me as well.
“Hey, Beanie. Cutting it close today, huh? Everything okay?” he says, glancing at the clock. My shift started three minutes ago.
“Yeah, I know, sorry, I ran into Clint.” He makes a barf face. I laugh. “Is Maggie freaking out yet?”
Before he can answer, Maggie, the head waitress rushes into the kitchen, overloaded with dirty dishes. I rush over and take some from her, both of us heading towards the dish pit then leaning over the tiny sink to wash our hands together.
“Thank the saints you’re here. I was worried. You’re always here so early. I thought maybe something had happened with Jerry.”
I push back my own concern for him. “No, no, Jerry’s fine. Sorry, I’m just having an off day.”
She looks at me like she knows there is more, so I appease her. “I bumped into Clint.”
“Oh, damnation, that boy is so low you couldn’t put a rug under him. If it wasn’t so obnoxious, it’d almost be funny that all these years after high school he’s thick-headed enough to believe he has a chance with you after what he did.”
“Yeah, well, it’d sure be nice if he wised up sooner rather than later,” I say, remembering all the crap he’s put me through.
“He’ll get the picture eventually, honey. You just keep your chin up. Speaking of, we’ve been busier than a hound in flea season all day. You’ve just had two tables sit down in your section and I haven’t been over to them yet, so you might want to turn that smile on quick.”
I finish tying on my apron and hurry out onto the floor, glancing at the specials on my way out. Chicken pot pie and blueberry crumble—no wonder we’re busy.
I glance at my section, still just the two tables, but I see more people walking along the side walk and my section is the only one with open tables. I grab water glasses, rushing over to the first booth, only to stop dead in my tracks as I see who is sitting there.
Looking down at the menu, wavy golden hair falling onto the strong planes of his forehead, his icy blue eyes studying the plastic menu in his thick, muscular hands, is Mr. Mason Beckett.
Noooo!
“Oh, hi, Jeanie…” he starts, but I’m not feeling particularly generous at the moment and cut him off.
“What are you doing here? Are you following me? I thought I made it clear I wasn’t interested in whatever you were offering.”
He looks a little peeved. “For the record, I was just trying to be neighborly and help you out. Sorry to disappoint, but I just came here to grab something to eat. This is a restaurant, isn’t it? Or is there not enough room in here for me and your ego?”
Oh, so you’re a smart aleck now too?
“Riiight, and you just expect me to believe you just happened to come to the restaurant I work at and you just happened to sit in my section by complete coincidence?”
“Well… yes.” He looks a little bemused.
I see Maggie looking over at me with concern and I realize I’ve got more people getting seated.
Come on, Jeanie, you don’t have time for this malarkey.
“Fine,” I ground out, “but I’m keeping my eye on you.”
“Okay, well, while you’re doing that, do you think I could get a cup of coffee?”
Fuming, I walk away without answering, grab the coffee pot with more force than necessary, and return to the table, filling his mug in complete, awkward silence.
Maybe he won’t come back if I make it awkward enough.
I start to walk away when he touches my arm. The contact sends a jolt through me.
“Sorry, but do you think I could get a fresh cup? This one is cold.”
Yep, it’s going to be one of those days.