But she’d been right about this place: it was different here. People seemed to value privacy a lot more than most. She hadn’t been asked any probing, uncomfortable questions about where she’d come from, where she spent her time, none of it. No obliquely racist questions about what a black girl was doing up here in rural white-people country, even. And when she deflected casual getting-to-know-you conversation, people took the hint and stopped.
Maybe it just was because Glacier Park was right next door, and everyone was so used to tourists coming by that they were bored of newcomers. Maybe it was just lucky. Whatever, Nina wasn’t going to question it. Not at all.
The diner was still slow at four PM, but Nina got moving fast, taking over Patsy’s tables as she went off-shift. She didn’t want to give Ethel any more reasons to be mad at her.
Things started to pick up as it got on toward dinnertime, and Nina’s tables filled up. She took orders, maneuvered her tray around the other servers, and kept a smile on her face.
That was the hardest part of the job, smiling all the time.
Nina had been working as a waitress since she was sixteen, and she’d always struggled with looking cheerful and friendly. Especially when customers were jerks.
It was hard, standing there with a smile while some asshole yelled at you because his burger was overcooked—like Nina had any control over how the burgers were cooked. In the early days, when she was still a scared teenager, bewildered and angry at the blows the world had dealt her, she’d occasionally snapped back.
But she’d quickly learned that that was an easy way to lose a job, and so she’d gotten control of her temper.
But it sometimes felt like even when she was human, the leopard was still there, deep inside her chest somewhere. And she couldn’t seem to smile when it was growling.
Tonight, there was a table of rowdy guys, there for burgers and beer. A lot of beer. She kept the smile fixed on her face and the leopard shoved way down, but it was extra-difficult. She was getting a lot of leers, a few crude comments. She’d started gaining weight again, and her curves were filling out.
Nina had a naturally curvaceous figure, and whenever she had a regular job and plenty of food, she filled out. Particularly in certain...key areas. It attracted attention, especially when she was waitressing. Most especially when she was the only black girl in the place, because apparently that made her butt much more interesting.
She gritted her teeth as the evening wore on, and her leopard started growling. Shift, the big cat seemed to say to her. Shift, and you could give them something else to talk about. Like your claws and teeth.
Stop it, she told the growling voice. That’s not how the world works. We want to stay in this town. This is a good job, and no one’s asking questions, and there’s all that space to run in the snow. You like running in the snow.
Her leopard had to acknowledge that that was true. But she didn’t stop growling at the beer-drinking guys.
Then the door opened, and the hostess was seating one of Nina’s favorite customers. Her leopard settled down almost immediately.
This was a good antidote to a group of drunk assholes, Nina thought, a smile appearing without her having to force it. It was the woman she privately just called Ms. Stylish, here with her husband.
Ms. Stylish was always nice, usually said something funny while they were ordering, and paid attention to Nina as though she was a person, not just a serving robot. Her husband was much quieter, but always gave Nina a warm smile and never leered, even when his wife wasn’t looking. And they tipped very well.
Today, they were with friends, another couple Nina had seen a few times already, and liked almost as much—a tall friendly guy, and his short blonde fiancée, both always cheerful when they came in.
“Hi, Nina,” said Ms. Stylish when Nina came to the table, smiling. She was wearing a gorgeous red dress with a truly beautiful diamond necklace—way overdressed for a diner, but she never seemed to care. And she definitely didn’t have the snotty attitude that sometimes came with clothes like that. “We might have one more, we’re not sure yet.”
Tall and Friendly rolled his eyes. “He’s going to cancel. Again.”
Short and Blonde punched his arm. “Give him a chance. He might show up.”
“Why change his ways after the last four times?” Tall and Friendly muttered.
“So,” Ms. Stylish said pointedly, “Nina, don’t worry about it—if he shows up, fine, but no need to wait around for him to get here.”
“No problem,” Nina assured her. “Can I start you all off with something to drink?”
They did the thing where they all looked around to each other, until finally Ms. Stylish’s husband said in his quiet voice, “Alethia, why don’t you start.”
Ms. Stylish smiled at him and ordered. Alethia, Nina thought. What a beautiful, exotic name. It fit her perfectly.
She had to admit it, she thought as she went to get their drinks. She was jealous of Ms. Stylish—of Alethia. She always seemed so happy, so nice, and she had that gorgeous husband who was clearly madly in love with her. And she had all these friends. Not just the cheerful couple here tonight, but a woman with an adorable baby and a few others. In just two weeks, Nina had seen her in here all the time with her friends, always smiling and laughing.
And there was something about her—about all of them. Nina didn’t know what it was, exactly. But when she was around them, her leopard just seemed to curl up inside her chest and relax. She wished she could figure out how to make friends with them herself, be part of that happy, laughing group.
But she couldn’t, she reminded herself. She couldn’t make friends. She couldn’t get close to people. That way led to secrets, to lying. Scrambling for explanations for things that didn’t make sense, like where she was living, where she’d come from, why she disappeared into the countryside for hours and hours.
And that was if she was lucky. If she wasn’t, there would be screams of fear, threats of violence or of calling the police.