She nods toward her dog. “My floor has definitely seen worse than a little sweat. But I’ve got some in the linen closet down the hall. Help yourself.”
“Thanks,” I tell her and walk toward the hallway that leads to her bedroom suite.
In the short time I’ve stayed here, I haven’t once been down this hall.
I spot a closet and open it. As I take out a fresh towel, something hanging on the wall catches my eye.
A framed diploma from Stanford University.
My face elongates.
Helluva school. She must be one of those brainiacs. Then I notice it’s for her MBA.
She got a Master’s in Business from Stanford?
And she’s working in a diner?
I feel the creases on my forehead deepen. Okay, so that doesn’t quite mesh up. I look closer at the document.Summa Cum Laude.
With Highest Honors.
How does someone who graduatedSumma Cum Laudefrom Stanford’s MBA program end up managing a little diner on an island most people don’t even know exists?
She reallyshouldown that place.
Hell, considering where she went to school, she could turn the damn thing into a chain—have a Breeze-In Diner on every coastal city along the Eastern Seaboard.
I walk back toward the kitchen.
“You got an MBA from—” I cut myself off, noticing that she’s left for work.
She didn’t even say goodbye.
My head tilts to the side as I look down at her dog and feel the immediate urge to sit on the floor and just pet her for a while. Not quite the activity that I should be doing right now, but she’s irresistible. I plant a kiss on Junie’s soft forehead and can’t help smiling from the feel of fur on my lips.
Dogs are the best. I feel this wave of gratitude toward Millie for rescuing this one.
I’ve always wanted a dog, but military life doesn’t mesh well with pets who survive longer than a year or two. Hell, I felt guilty just buying my sole houseplant, knowing it will get thrust upon some unsuspecting neighbor when I deploy.
When I was about ten years old, a dog magically appeared in the derelict house where I lived. My mom and dad told me they rescued it. But in reality, I’m betting it just showed up and they couldn’t shoo it away.
To this day, I don’t think I’ve ever felt as excited as I was in that moment I first saw him. I named him Bruce after Batman’s alter ego.
But then just as quickly, the dog disappeared from my life again. He was only with us maybe two or three days when I came home from school and my parents were passed out on the couch. And Bruce was nowhere to be seen.
To this day, I’m not really sure what happened to him. When I asked my parents, I’d always get a different answer—everything from “He ran away” to “What dog? We never had a dog.”
“So what’s going on with her?” I can’t resist asking Junie because she looks like she’s got all the answers in those sweet, dark eyes of hers. “Millie’s mood seems a little… off this weekend.”
Junie makes a sort of whimpering sound, as though she’s agreeing with me. Or maybe she’s just hoping for a little game of fetch. I’m not sure.
I give Junie another pat on the head before I head out the door. Back on base, I’d pop in my earbuds and listen to music while I run.
But not here. Not when I can hear the sound of the surf.
Headed toward the beach, I run by the Breeze-In Diner and spot Millie sitting in a window booth, her vacant stare not even noticing me.
I nearly wave but resist for some reason. It’s just that she looks like she has a million thoughts she’s sorting through right now, and I don’t want to distract her from the challenge of it.