Chapter 4

Roxie had to work the six-to-eleven shift the following morning. The breakfast trade was always the best for tips and Monday morning was the busiest weekday. Since her car was on the sick list, she found herself walking the two miles at five in the morning. The sun was just beginning to burnish the horizon. She took that on faith, since in the center of town there was no horizon.

If she’d had her car it would have been a quick drive to make it to the diner just at the last minute. There’d be no time to think about anything more than making good money on her best shift of the week. She was lucky that summer was just starting.

With an unsure car, bad weather would have added another complication to her list that was already too long. She had to admit that it was kind of nice to be in the coolness of the early morning, although it was eerie walking through the business district with no other people around.

She trudged past the silent shops, looking in the windows. There were a lot more vacant stores than there used to be. Roxie did her shopping at the mall in Syracuse. She was sure there was nothing in these local stores that she could afford.

Moving up the scale in her clothes shopping was the least of her worries. She was thinking more about fuel pumps, and all the other thousand little cuts of auto repairs that were bleeding her.

She walked home from work the night before, too. That was after she set Stan straight about his idea of the two of them counting inventory in the back room after hours. That he thought he might try for it was a minor irritation.

It was his crude announcement of it that infuriated her—especially when it looked like the prospect of making some time with Cal had been improving by the minute.

Maybe she did count the stock with Stan a time or two in the past. They were one-time things. It happened several years ago when she’d really needed her waitress job in the diner. Stan’s first wife had just walked out on him. Millie was just arriving on the scene.

“That was before I got to be friends with Millie. Things are different now.”

Stan ruined her chance to spend some time with Cal. Part of her regretted it and part not. It didn’t please her that Cal slunk out of the diner as Stan laid claim to her. She thought of a school boy who was afraid to take his lunch money back from the bully who’d grabbed it.

Junior might not have been much, but if he had been there and wanted Roxie for the night he’d have told Stan what to do with his back-room inventory. Stan would’ve backed down, and would’ve backed down to Cal, too.

“It was just gonna’ be a lark, anyway,” she consoled herself. “Like Millie says, Junior is more my type.”

She had learned so much about men. It was like junkyard dogs scrapping for a bone. Being the bone gave her a certain power over them, which she retained at great cost. It was worth it.

“I love it when men just have to be men,” she chuckled to herself.

Junkyard dogs were the kind who knew how to howl at the moon—although their meanness could get out of control at times. Men were so predictable. At least, most of them were. Cal confused her.

As she kept walking she saw the diner about a block away and her forlorn car alone in the parking lot. Her thoughts shifted back to Cal, wondering what he would do. In a way, he was on the hook to complete the fuel pump repair. He’d escaped from the diner last night without saying a word about it. Most men would forget about it, if so inclined, but not Cal. He was a man who couldn’t sleep at night unless he’d crossed all his tees.

She thought how interesting it would be to see how he’d handle the whole thing. Perhaps he would return to claim his prize in delayed fashion. She imagined him spending a sleepless night, ashamed of himself. Redemption was always there for the taking.

As she neared the end of her trek she thought that she might get another ride in that Mustang, after all. Perhaps she could persuade him to take it over the speed limit. She wondered how Junior would react. There were a lot of interesting possibilities.

“Just have to see how it all plays out,” was all she could tell herself.

When she arrived at the corner across from the diner she saw Stan’s car pull into his accustomed space. She decided to wait for another light before crossing the street. It would give him a chance to unlock the door and start his pre-opening kitchen chores. It seemed to be the best approach, considering that they weren’t on speaking terms.

Millie always worked the morning shift, but she always started at seven-thirty and then worked through lunch. Roxie would have to contend with Stan one-on-one until then. She crossed the street and made her way through the diner to the pantry where the waitresses kept their aprons. Stan was in the kitchen and she looked away as she passed him.

“About last night...” Stan growled as she walked by.

She pivoted around to face him.

“I won’t tell Millie unless you try it again.”

“I could fire you,” he retorted.

“Fat chance! If you fire me I will tell Millie.”

“Your word against mine.”

“Okay, fire me right now and we’ll see who she believes.”

Stan stared into the pancake batter he was mixing and grumbled an expletive.

“I was just going to tell you I was sorry,” he pleaded.

Roxie didn’t believe him, but it didn’t matter. She’d won, and that was all there was to it.

“Look, can we just forget it?” Roxie answered.

She was gracious in victory. Stan nodded. She paused while she tied on her apron and took a deep breath.

“No hard feelin’s, Stan.”

She left the kitchen and moved out to the dining area. The first thing was to get the coffee going. She knew everything was ready because she’d closed the night before. Soon the early-morning regulars were filing in. She could tell that it was going to be a big crowd.

It was a welcome change because recent business had been off, what with a holiday slowing everything down. The early crowd was mostly utility workers and contractors and construction guys with an occasional trucker thrown in. It was Roxie’s job to get them fed and on the road.

Roxie knew the working guys liked to flirt with her when they came to the diner for breakfast. Most of them were family guys who knew Roxie and all about her, and those who didn’t were filled in by those who did. It was a harmless brush with what was forbidden.