I glance down at my outfit. My T-shirt is an over-washed item of Cole’s that sports almost a gray tone. I borrowed it during my short stay with him and Jessica and never returned it. My legs are covered in my standard black jeans.
“You know I can’t. . .” I leave the sentence hanging in the air. As if a lamp has been turned off, I feel enveloped by darkness. Colors remind me of my time with Devyn. Of a time when my life was vivid and vibrant and promising.
The yellow shirt required by the staff causes me to reminisce of the delicate yellow dress I had worn to surprise Devyn in Chicago. It now hangs solemnly in the back of my closet.
Leaving her post at the griddle, Karen approaches. The scent of her perfume, a floral smell reminding me of spring, tickles my nose.
“It gets better, Larsen. Soon the hurt will bleed away and you’ll be left feeling anew. Your heart will move on, don’t sell yourself short.”
Despite her graphic advice, I feel marginally better after she gives me a one-armed hug.
Because of my attire, I stay behind the counter working. I’m not really one for company or the fake happiness of waiting tables to get decent tips.
The counter is filled with my regulars, people that live in town and they work to protect me from the onlookers.
Dinner rush begins in about fifteen minutes and like clockwork Cole strolls in, flashing a smile at the new waitress, and then taking his open seat at the counter.
“Hey, Larsen.”
“Hi.” B.D., before Devyn, I would never make eye contact with the attractive man clamoring for my attention. I barely uttered two sentences to him in the years we’ve known each other. The butterflies that would take up resident in my stomach would flap wildly in his presence. Now, A.D., after Devyn, the flutters have expired. The butterflies following my heart as it left my body with Devyn. Cole and I actually hold conversations when he comes in.
“Jessica is coming in this weekend. She wants to know if you want to go hiking with us.”
“Uh. . .I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” In a rare moment A.D. a giggle escapes from between my lips. The customers at the counter all take notice and stop what they’re doing to focus on me. John’s in such shock that the condensation on his glass causes him to lose his grip on the glass, water spilling across the counter.
Grabbing a cloth from below, I wipe away the wetness, all twelve customers’ eyes following my every movement.
“Um. . .well, if you change your mind, you know how to reach me.”
“Sure. Now, what can I get you to eat?” I ask as I fill up his typical glass of Coke.
Smiling broadly, his straight pearly whites glisten under the overhead lights. “The special.”
“Who told you it was the stroganoff?”
Everyone sitting at the counter breaks out into laughter as I stare in confusion then my eyes settle back on John as he blushes beneath his beard. “I told you. My nose, knows.”
It’s late when we close the diner, my special always drawing in a larger crowd and now it’s even more than before. Since I’ve moved back into my apartment Officer Tawny asked that I have an escort home every night. Even though I feel like I’m wasting their time and keeping the officers away from something more important, I do like the added feeling of
safety. I never fight them on it. The entire town cares and they want to make sure that nothing happens to me, especially since the letters haven’t stopped and have grown more threatening.
The most recent one, I received yesterday. This time instead of just the picture and letter there was a small lock of my hair attached. Well, it could have been anyone’s since it was blonde, but we didn’t want to be too careful.
I didn’t want to be too careful.
I haven’t let anyone know that the threats are starting to scare me. I assumed with myself removed from Devyn that they would stop, but they’ve only gotten more frequent.
“Are you ready?” Tawny asks as she steps into the diner. She’s in plain clothes, a nondescript T-shirt and jeans.
I lock the door behind her and turn off the lights. Our usual routine has us exiting through the backdoor, though we do like to change it up every once in a while, just to be careful.
“Yes. I just need to lock the drawer to the register.”
“No problem. I’ll wait.”
I finish closing everything up, taking only about ten minutes, then I’m ready to go.
We ride in the police cruiser to my apartment. And, as usual, Tawny walks ahead of me on the stairs even reaching the top of the landing before I can get halfway.