This was the part that was always Dad’s job. He was the numbers person. Mom liked to cook and kept things running on the day-to-day stuff, but Dad was the one who made sure the lights stayed on and that the meat order went out. He never had trouble keeping the place going, doing his delicate balancing act with the ease of someone who was always meant to do it. Looking at the spreadsheet, I wondered how.
I knew part of it was that, for a long time, Dina’s was pretty much the only place to eat in town. At least as far as a regular place, that was. Sergio’s was popular, but until he opened the bar portion, it was an Italian restaurant, and most people in Ashford, Tennessee didn’t have the stomach for pasta fagioli every day.
Dina’s was a popular spot partially because it offered such a wide variety of food and kept the prices low. Regulars came in for coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs every morning. Other families came in like clockwork between morning and evening services on Sunday. There were always people who came in and had dinner on a regular night, sometimes because of specials we ran.
In the last few years, those numbers dipped, though. Some of that was natural. The town was struggling all around with the younger generation like myself getting the hell out as soon as they were old enough. It wasn’t a happening place, and the bigger cities of Tennessee were sucking all the youth and energy away, leaving mountains and valleys full of aging retirees.
Part of the sluggish numbers was that there was more competition in the area. Sergio’s expanded. A steak place opened up on the edge of town. The department store had a little diner built inside it too, a chain place, but something that kept people from coming to Dina’s on the way home from grocery shopping.
Then, there was Carrie. She had tried to do the same general changes I was doing myself, only she did it without any knowledge of how a restaurant worked other than Dina’s. She had never really been invested in the diner, and when she suddenly had the reins, she didn’t seem to know what to do with it. Changing the menu and updating the ambiance were good, but the way she went about it was all wrong, especially the cost-cutting measures. She made Dina’s Diner feel cheap. I had to fix that, and it might take a while.
The coffee was getting low, and I reached over the counter to grab the pot to refill it. I poured the coffee and scrolled through some of the waste cost, something we needed to cut down on, so we didn’t have money walking right out of the door, when I felt a presence beside me. I looked over and rolled my eyes while at the same time feeling my entire body go warm and my skin tingle.
It was the hot lumberjack. The one I’d avoided at the creek. And he sat right down beside me at the counter, rather than sitting in his normal booth.
Shit.
“Afternoon,” he said.
“Hi,” I mumbled. I wanted to say something stronger. Something with more oomph that could either get him to buzz off or convince him to come to bed with me. I didn’t know which. Everything was conflicted in my head all at once, and I could barely say anything at all.
“Name’s Everett,” he said. “I just realized we hadn’t been introduced when I saw you at the creek. Didn’t want to interrupt you and seem creepy though.”
“Ah,” I said. “Helen.”
“Helen,” he repeated. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” I said.
“Rebecca talks about you a lot,” he said.
I nodded, trying not to make eye contact and pretending like whatever was at the bottom of my mug was the most interesting thing in the world.
“Rebecca is good people,” I muttered.
I didn’t say anything else, and we fell into a silence for a moment before he seemed to take the hint. One of the waitresses came up and he mentioned he made an order ahead, which she had bagged for him, and he paid for it.
“Nice to meet you,” he said as he took the bag and got off the chair.
“Mm-hmm,” I said, suddenly wildly interested in the spreadsheets again. It was either that or stare at his deep blue eyes and wonder why I couldn’t think anymore.
9
EVERETT
Helen. That was her name.
Meeting her at the diner wasn’t exactly a surprise since I knew she had taken over there, but it was still not planned either. Every other time I had gone over there, she had been busy in the back or at least making it seem like she was busy. The most I had ever seen of her was in passing as she looked over at the table with what seemed like a glare.