Chapter 11
Anthony eyedthe array of clocks on the diner wall—a half dozen pieces featuring things like an old-time Pepsi logo, a glass bottle of Coke, and a specially made clock that readTony’s Diner.In just a few minutes, Kira wouldarrive.
“Hey, Anthony,” came Trent from his spot at the bar. “Is your lady coming intoday?”
“Yeah, is she?” Benny asked, lips puckered as he blew on his coffee. “And if so, why don’t you fill us in on what’s happening between you two before she getshere.”
“Hey, hey, now, I’m not supposed to be doing any kissing and telling. You guys knowthat.”
“Yeah, but we’re not gonna tell no one,” Bennysaid.
“Speak for yourself. Jessie and Darcy have been asking all about it,” Trent admitted in a hush. “I told Jessie I’d get thedetails.”
Anthony dunked a fresh dishcloth into a mound of hot suds and squeezed it out. “Oh, sothat’swhy you guys stuck around for a third cup ofcoffee.”
“Actually,” Trent said, “Abby kept me up half the night. I told Jessie I’d trade shifts with her, but man … I had no idea it’d be sotiring.”
“That’s babies for you,” Benny said with a laugh. “You’ll get used to it.” He leaned over the counter next, hushing his voice. “Jessie and Darcy were here Thursday afternoon having their book club, and Darcy said she spied you and Kira kissing by the kitchen when she was heading to the ladies’ room. Explains why you’ve been missing boys’night…”
The kitchen?But then it came to him—hehadkissed her there right after she’d finished the shoot. It was short and sweet, just a stolen kiss he hoped no one had seen. Anthony wiped the smooth surface down with the hot cloth, moving it closer to where the old men sat. He leaned in, glancing around the diner before speaking up. “I don’t really know what’s happening between us yet. I like her, she likes me back, from what I can tell, but we haven’t made anything officialyet.”
The men wore smiles that might look more fitting on boys in middle school. Wide, satisfied, andmischievous.
Benny nudged Trent. “Told you something washappening.”
Trent rolled his eyes. “She gets coffee here every morning, Ben, ofcoursesomething’shappening.”
“How wouldyouknow?”
“A good sheriff knows what’s happening in his precinct,” Trentbragged.
Anthony couldn’t help but smile. He only hoped his close friends would remain in Cobble Creek with him. One day they’d all be like Chuck and Don, having a little guy time while the ladies did their thing. Anthony could see it now, the entire group—Steger brothers and all—sitting at the corner booth. Seth and Jon would gripe about how—after their sons took over Steger Construction—they changed up the logo on the marquee after all these years. Anthony would nod and grumble about how his sons wanted to change the colors of the booths, like he’d done a few years back, upsetting his own father in theprocess.
“Pssst!” someone hissed frombehind.
Anthony glanced over his shoulder to see Kira peeking her head through the swinging doors to the kitchen. He lifted a finger, glad she’d come in through the back. No need to be featured in Cobble Creek’s gossip sessions just yet. Trent and Benny were caught up in a round of laughter as Anthony snuckoff.
Once in the kitchen, the hiss sounded again, this time from the short hallway leading to his office. He glanced down in time to see Kira disappear through the open doorway. Anthony followed her inside, only to be greeted with a display he hadn’t expected. An array of easels stood along the back office wall. The tall ones rested directly on the floor, while shorter easels balanced on two high stools and a sidetable.
“Hello, Mr. Marino,” Kira said, reaching out to shake his hand. She wore the same business-looking suit he’d seen her in when she came to the diner in search of volunteers. “I took the liberty of enlarging select images from our shoot here in the diner. Please keep in mind these are merely a dozen of my favorites, but you’ll have the opportunity to scan over the entire selection if you’dlike.”
Anthony straightened his shoulders, playing along with the business pretense. “Very well, then,” he said with a stiffnod.
Kira tilted her head, an amused grin lifting the apples of her cheeks. She stepped over to a massive, flat case that leaned against his desk on the floor; it was too big to fit anywhere else. She pulled a stack of poster-sized boards from the bag, moved to the far easel, and displayed the first image: a close-up of Jeff as he leaned over the bar with a grin.That smile.Kira had captured it perfectly. The almost-twenty-year-old kid had really proven himself over the years, showing that he could not only welcome the customers with a witty word, but run the diner in Anthony’s absence without ahitch.
“That’s a great picture,” he said, reverence coating histone.
Kira set the next two in place and stepped aside. His cooks, Howie and Lance. She’d come in early for theirs, before the diner opened. She’d captured a picture of Howie—who was in charge of the fresh rolls—kneading the dough. In the next, Lance was busy at the cutting board, the angle catching a mountain of sliced carrots and celery for their soup of the day—chickennoodle.
“You really did a great job with these guys,” he said. “I like everything you got around them too. The wood grain of the cutting board, even. A bit of flour on Howie’s chin. It’sperfect.”
Similar words came to him as she displayed the next three enlargements. Only they weren’t employees; they werepatrons.
“I know you wanted me to focus mainly on the employees, but while I was here, a few things caught my eye.” She pointed to the first photo, a close-up of a wide-eyed baby, mouth poised behind a spoonful of chocolate shake and whipped cream. “Maddie and Bear were here with their little one. They signed a release form saying that I could use these pictures to display here at the diner, in case you decided to use them. The others did thesame.”
Anthony glanced at the other candid photos as she continued, “I thought that a fair portrayal of Tony’s Diner should include a few patrons, since that’s what it’s all about. People who’ve been coming for years, ordering their favorite shake, snack, orburger.”
Anthony took in the next picture, which featured the town’s book club. The large group of ladies had been meeting at Tony’s for years. In the photo, several of the women had their heads tipped back in what could only be called roaring laughter. Next was the small family that had stopped in on their way through town. They’d ordered a family-style meal; nearly one of everything lay scattered over thetable.
