“Steak and cheese, and a Diet Coke. No onions or mushrooms. Extra mayo.”
“Chips or fries.”
“Fries with a side of mayo.”
“Got it. So, you want an order of mayo with a few sides?” I wink at her, but she doesn’t find my humor funny, returning my gesture with a scowl, which coming from her red blotchy face is a bit comical. Still, I don’t stay and poke the bear. She’s liable to become whiney or throw a fit. I love Dhara, but her emotions are all over the place, and I blame Fletcher for that. If the two of them would just get together, do their thing, and get it out of their system or run off and get married, she wouldn’t be such a scatterbrain when he’s around.
I tend to a few other customers at the bar before I put Dhara’s order in. When I notice Fletcher come in, I put his usual order in as well. It’s a shot in the dark, but he’s so calm about everything I don’t think he’ll mind. Still, I plan to ask him when I take a Coke over to him. If all else fails, I’ll eat his cheeseburger and feel good about it.
“Brought you a Coke,” I say, setting the glass down in front of him and doing the same for Dhara. “Also ordered your fave, unless you want something different?”
“Nah, I’m good. Logan around?”
I hear my name called from the bar and glance over my shoulder to find our short order cook setting a couple of plates under the heat lamp. Focusing back on Fletcher, I answer him. “No, he had to get back to base. Might be able to come down next weekend though.”
“Ooh, two weekends in a row. Better watch out, you might get serious,” Dhara jokes.
“Hardy har har.” I stick my tongue out at her and head back to the bar to pick up my order. By the time I return with Fletcher and Dhara’s food, they’re deep into a conversation about the concert. Not wanting to keep beating a dead horse, I set their plates down and head to my next table.
Most Sundays I have a hostess or another waitress on staff but with the concert last night, everyone asked for the day off. Being that Bailey’s is part of the community, and good help is sometimes hard to find, those who asked, received. Never mind the fact that we could be busy. The cook, table busser and I just roll with it.
The dining area is full when a group of out of towners walk in. They look around and are about to leave when I tell them they can sit at the bar. The group of four look tired, haggard, like they had an incredibly rough night. My guess is that they partied a bit too hard last night at the concert and are slowly making their way back home. Placing menus down in front of each of them, I ask, “Coffee?”
They all barely nod at me, making discernible audible mumbles.
I give them a few minutes to look over the menu after I pour each of them their coffee. A couple of them add cream, while the other two drink it black. “Do you know what you want?”
“What’s good?” The lone female of the group asks.
“Just about everything,” I tell her. I’m biased though. “We pride ourselves on good food and heaping quantities.” There’s nothing worse than walking into a new place, ordering food, and getting a skimpy plate. When I go out to eat, I want food.
While she’s thinking things over, I look at the guy who is farthest from me. He looks familiar but I can’t remember where I know him from. He orders our plated special of two eggs, hash browns, bacon, and toast. His friend orders hash and eggs. The lady settles on pancakes, and the girl next to her asks for a burger. Odd but not uncommon. The woman slaps him on the arm, and I hear her say, “You’re ridiculous,” before turning away.
As their order cooks, I cash out people who are ready to leave, refill sodas, coffees, teas and waters and chat for a few minutes. Dhara and Fletcher seem to have given up on the missed concert and are going on about their upcoming week at work. Dhara works at the hospital and Fletcher works for the State as an attorney in Bailey. He’s only a year out of law school and thankfully the worst crimes he has to prosecute are petty misdemeanors. I’d be scared if he had to face a murderer because he’s too nice and gentle for the ugliness that his job could bring him. We all knew he would return home after he graduated from college. Well, I did. Dhara was certain he would leave for someplace like Raleigh or Charlotte, but I knew better. He’s far too in love with her to stay away. He looks at her the same way… well the way someone should look when they’re smitten.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask them. Dhara’s head is turned, staring toward the bar. I follow her gaze but don’t see anything amiss. “D?”
“Jamie, do you know they are?” she whispers.
I look again and slowly shake my head. “Paying customers?”
“Dhara…” Fletcher’s voice comes as a warning and now I’m officially curious.
“What’s going on?”
Dhara stares at Fletcher who shakes his head slowly. I lean down, my hands grip the end of the table and I look back and forth between my friends. “What the hell is going on?” Her shoulders fall and she finally opens her mouth to speak.
“The people at the bar are the members of Sinful Distraction,” she mumbles quietly. First off, I don’t believe her. She’s sitting in her booth, not making a scene. She’s not fixing her hair, her make-up or doing anything else to prepare for a selfie. Second, no… they wouldn’t come into my bar.
“D, I know you’re upset about the concert, but you really need to get over it. I’m sure the band is on their way to their next stop, doing some meet and greet, or whatever it is bands do these days. Okay? Just stop.”
She reaches for my hand, but I pull away. “I have to work.” I leave them at the table and head to the back to calm my breathing. Everything about this weekend has been messed up. I don’t want to be that friend, the one that tells her friends they can’t listen to a certain group or like a certain movie, but right now that’s what I want to say because this group… I put my hand on my forehead and tell myself to stop thinking about my past. What’s done is done. Life happened, I moved on. I worked hard to overcome a troubling time in my life, to make something of myself, and the things Dhara’s saying, well it’s just a rabbit hole of hell waiting for me that I’m not willing to travel down.
Taking a deep breath, I center myself, and give myself a mental pep talk. Ignore Dhara and her incessant crap about missing the concert and who may or may not be in the bar right now. I push open the wooden door and step back out into my reality, a packed establishment where groups of parents are happily conversing while their children are playing amongst themselves. Life is good.
The cook calls my name and I go to the window to pick up the plates of food. Easiest delivery of the day so far as I just have to turn around. I set some condiments onto the bar for the group to use and refill their coffee mugs. One asks for a Sprite and another asks for some ice water. Easy peasy.
And that’s how I expect the rest of their encounter to go, that is until I see Dhara approaching. Everything in me wants to think she’s coming to see to me, to pay her bill, but deep down I know better. She’s a celebrity hound, lives her life for posting pictures of her with famous people. One time, she vacationed in Hollywood and spent her week looking for movie stars. I love her but it’s a bit much.