This assessment in the diner felt different somehow. These people didn’t seem to be staring at a disfigured man; they were simply staring at a stranger. In fact, no one seemed even to register the scars. The sensation was so foreign, so satisfying that Finn lifted a hand to his cheek. The ridged skin beneath his fingers confirmed his face had not miraculously healed.
When he moved to the counter and took a seat, the customers returned to their meals and conversations. Finn’s eyes paused on the framed photo behind the counter, an old black-and-white of the dedication of the strange statue he had seen. A woman at the front of the group must have been the Civic Society’s president—what was her name? Philomena something—was cutting the ribbon that cordoned off the granite sculpture. The crowd around her was smiling and applauding.
“Afternoon.” A girl of about sixteen who looked like she should be on top of a cheerleading pyramid bounced up to him from behind the counter. Her name tag read Cassie, and her blonde hair was in a ponytail tied with an elaborate red ribbon that matched her apron.
“Coffee.” Finn spared her a glance then returned to the paper menu that doubled as a placemat.
“What language is that?” She tapped the end of her pencil on the coffee-stained counter.
“Excuse me?” Finn spun the empty coffee mug.
“Well,” she placed the eraser to her temple. “I know a little French: Bienvenu a Puck’s café. And some German: Vilcomen a Puck’s. But I ain’t never heard a language where ‘coffee’ means ‘hello.’”
Finn met her gaze with a lethal stare.
She took a step back, then seemed to compose herself. “You know you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar,” she muttered.
“Now, why would I want to catch flies?” he asked.
Cassie paused. “Huh, I never thought about that. Still, a little kindness goes a long way.”
If only to get the damn cup of coffee, he relented. “May I please have a cup of black coffee?”
She beamed at him. “Why, of course, good sir.” She reached behind her for the glass pitcher and filled his mug.
Finn slurped a sip of the steaming brew. He started to order his meal but stopped. “Shit, that’s the best fucking coffee I’ve ever tasted.”
“Language,” she scolded and pointed the pencil to an old pickle jar half-filled with change and the words “profanity 25¢” written on the front in magic marker.
Finn huffed. “Who gets the money? I’ll have that fucker full by the end of the day.”
“The school chorus. We have the best choir in the state, but they can’t afford to travel around for competitions, so we all try to chip in to help. People sometimes just curse for no reason so they can add to the jar.”
Cassie turned to clear some plates, and Finn looked over and spotted an older woman with a beehive hairdo and a cane. She bore a striking resemblance to the woman in the photo on the wall. Based on the way she held it, Finn suspected the walking stick was more of a prop or a weapon than a crutch, a theory that proved true when she wielded it in front of a uniformed black man twice her size.
The sheriff ignored her and continued his conversation with an older man seated at a table.
The old woman sidled up next to Finn. He held his coffee mug in both hands and looked into the dark brew hoping against hope this woman wouldn’t speak to him.
She didn’t speak. What she did was so much worse.
She donned the reading glasses that dangled on a chain around her neck and inspected his damaged skin. Finn didn’t know if it was shock at her actions or his ingrained habit to respect his elders, but whatever the reason, he did nothing to stop her.
“Somebody did a number on you, young man,” the old lady said.
“Thanks, I hadn’t noticed.”
She snorted. “Still handsome, though. Your eyes are the color of Marjorie’s hyacinths. Philomena Guilford.”
Finn nodded in response.
Philomena Guilford took a seat on the neighboring stool and made no secret of observing Finn.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” she commented.
Finn squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.
“If you’re planning on sticking around, I might have work for you. And a place to stay.” Mrs. Guilford said.