Cori gives me the side-eye, and I’m thankful she won’t talk about my situation in front of her cousin. When I moved back home, I lied to my parents and told them it would be temporary until I bought a condo or townhouse. They have no idea that I can barely afford a cardboard box to live in.
I pick up the menu, but quickly put it down. There’s no need for me to look at it. I know exactly what I want.
“Ms. Hazel has changed shit up,” Cori warns.
Sighing, I pick up the menu again. After scanning it for a few minutes, I note that my favorite meal is still listed. Out of curiosity, I scan the rest and note that the meals are much more complex and sophisticated.
“Since when does Ms. Hazel use goat cheese?” I wonder out loud.
Cori shrugs and tells me more about how the town has changed since I’ve been gone. I listen with half an ear, but my attention to my best friend dies when I hear a familiar sound.
I’ve only been familiar with it for a few hours, but it sounds exactly like the obnoxious rumbling of the engine that disturbed my sleep last night.
My tablemates seem to either be unbothered or unconcerned by the noise. It’s not something I’m used to in this sleepy little town. Whoever it is revs up the engine, and then it dies down.
“Has Shadow Cove been taken over by bikers?” I ask, but no one at my table answers, so I decide to drop it. Why am I concerned about some idiot’s loud motorcycle when I don’t even have a bicycle to ride to work?
Cori kicks me under the table. I look up, and she mouths, ‘It will be okay. ’ She gives me a reassuring smile, and I believe her. My situation can’t possibly get any worse. I’ve hit rock bottom, and the good news about that is I can only go up from here. Well, unless I die.
A shadow hits the table, and I look up at a smiling Ms. Hazel. Since I haven’t seen her since I moved back, I stand and hug her. I’ve known her all my life, and Ms. Hazel hired me to wash dishes in her kitchen when I was fifteen years old.
“Look at you, child.” Ms. Hazel cups my face and kisses my cheek. “Welcome home.” She waves at Cori and Selene. “I need you girls to do me a favor.”
“You got it, Ms. Hazel,” I say.
“I’m going to move you to another booth. I need this big one for another—”
“Say no more.” I stand and gesture for myfriends to do the same.
Even though we’re not related, Ms. Hazel is like family, and I would do almost anything for her. She takes us to the next booth over, and we slide in. She affectionately taps my cheek and walks away.
“Why did she move us to this booth?” Cori whispers. “She said she needed the big one we were in, but this one is the same size.” She takes a deep breath and looks around. “Ms. Hazel is different lately. She floats around and is carefree. When has she ever been carefree?”
The answer to that is never. She’s a beloved and respected member of Shadow Cove, but she takes no shit and can be formidable. She once chased down a customer who dined and dashed and shot one of their tires. When I asked her why she hadn’t just called the police, she said the cops were useless and that she dishes out her own justice in her own time, in her own way.
I’m convinced she drove her husband to an early grave. Not only that, but she’s also always stressed about the diner because she’s a control freak who does everything herself. She refuses to delegate.
A server comes to take our order, and at the same time, I hear the chimes that indicate the door has opened. A rush of cool air passes through the place, and a sudden quiet spreads throughout the room like a blanket.
There’s a notable shift in the restaurant. I look at my friends, and their expressions have changed. They look as confused as I feel. Heavy footsteps follow the sound of the front door hitting the frame.
I slide to the end of the booth and crane my neck to the front to see the cause of the sudden change in the room. I notice him seconds before my cappuccino reaches my mouth. I drop the mug. My drink spills and spreads on the table.
“Jesus,” I hear Cori say. “Stop being so damn clumsy. That drink costs five bucks.”
I can tell she’s grabbing napkins to absorb the mess, but I can’t be bothered to help. Right there, just a few feet away, is the same menace who tortured us last night.
“You guys,” I whisper. I reach across the table and pull on Cori’s arm. “He’s here.”
He’s taller than I remember. He’s still in all black, but the clothes are different from last night. He holds a helmet in his hands, and he commands the entire restaurant without uttering a single word. He looks around, almost like he owns the place, but says nothing to anyone. He walks in our direction.
“Oh, God,” I say. I grab a menu and hold it up to block my face.
“Oh, hell to the no,” Selene says.
Both my friends copy my movements and hide behind their menus. The heavy footsteps stop a few inches from our table, and I sit there so frozen that I can’t breathe for fear he’ll hear it. I can feel him just inches away. His body radiates heat, and I hate that he smells good. I don’t know what it is, but it smells masculine and expensive. Whatever cologne he’s wearing costs more than the seventy-seven dollars in my bank account.
I inhale a little bit, not enough for him to hear, but enough so I won’t die from a lack of oxygen. Several seconds pass, and he still doesn’t move away. The restaurant remains as quiet as a grave.
