“I know of a spot.” Theo unlocked the back door and let me out then closed and relocked it behind us. “This is a shortcut.”
We walked down the alley, which wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy, but there were no evil-looking people hanging around at least, and in a couple of minutes, we emerged onto a side street. “Now where to?”
“Right this way.” Theo continued down the street and then we crossed and walked about another half block. “It’s a really old place, and it stays open all night. Cops and others who have night shifts in the area love it. Nothing fancy, though.”
“I don’t need fancy.” I didn’t need anything except more time with Theo. “I’m not even that hungry, but I made you miss dinner, so I felt guilty.”
“Well, you missed dinner, as well, and getting tattooed, especially for the first time, takes more out of a person than you probably realize. So, I’m going to have to insist you eat a hearty meal.”
The diner was nothing like the neon-adorned chain versions. Old enough that I could imagine it hosting men in shabby suits sitting on the chrome and vinyl stools ordering burgers for a nickel during the Depression. Even the griddle, where rows of patties sizzled, must have been a hundred years old but, like the rest of the place, pretty clean and not scary. Still… “Do you think we’re eating grease from the 1940s?”
“Earlier than that,” Theo said. “But it’s too old to have germs. I’ve eaten here a hundred times, and I’m still alive.”
The stools were tempting, but if we were going to have a private conversation, the counter was not the place. “Do you mind if we get a booth?”
There were only a half dozen, but two were empty.
“Not at all.” He moved to stand by one then waited for me to pick a side. And slid in right next to me. “Cozy.”
It totally was. Although, I’d expected him across from me so I could look him in the eye while we talked and not have his powerful thigh pressed into mine. Not helpful with trying to have a serious discussion.
Apparently, nobody was coming to take our order. I brilliantly figured that out when the short-order cook behind the counter yelled out, “What’ll ya have?”
There were also no menus, but Theo pointed to the menu painted on the wall next to the cash register. It was not the easiest to read. “They have a blue plate special every day. Tonight, it’s meat loaf. Other than that, burgers, sandwiches, fries…”
“Meat loaf, really? I haven’t had that since I was a kid.” I considered. “But the burgers smell so good.”
“I’ve gotcha.” Theo raised his voice. “One blue plate and one burger combo, Artie.” He spoke to me again. “We can share. Want to try a vanilla Coke?”
“Yes, please.”
“Two vanillas,” he called.
“Got it.” Artie slapped another patty on the grill and dumped a handful of fries into a basket that he lowered into the fryer.
“He’ll tell us when it’s ready.” Theo leaned back in the seat. “During the day, he actually has a waitress in the full-gear. You know, pink polyester dress, little lacey visor or whatever it is. But this late, it’s just him.”
Two cops came in and settled at the counter. Without even asking, Artie added four patties to the grill. They must have been getting double-deckers. Sitting next to Theo, I kept my gaze fixed on the swift, efficient movements of the short-order cook while pulling together what I wanted to say. Maybe looking him in the eye would have been harder, but his body heat burned through both of our clothes. As if he had a higher temperature than average people.
“Well, this is nice.” Theo rested his arm on the seat behind me. “And a nice surprise.”
“I suppose it is, after I left like I did with no explanation.” I swallowed past the boulder in my throat. Hopefully clearing the air would eliminate it and make it possible for me to eat. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I am sorry.”
Theo jumped up, startling me. Was he going to leave because I had no explanation? “Grabbing our food. Hang on.”
He returned with a tray holding plates and glasses and everything, unloading it all like a professional server. “I might have worked here one summer,” he explained.
“In pink polyester?”
“No…washing dishes, clearing tables. Nothing as glamorous as a waitress.” He sat down next to me again. “But you were saying? About that night?”
“Umm…just apologizing.” I could say more, probably should, but not in a way that made me look like anything but a coward.
“Thank you. I accept.” No questions asked. Okay. He cut the burger in half and divided the meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans between us. The fries were already in a basket, so easy sharing. “Go ahead and eat. I want to hear if you like the food.”
My stomach rumbled loudly enough that we both laughed. “It sure smells good.”
We dove in, demolishing the food and then ordering three slices of pie, unable to decide between lemon meringue, chocolate cream, and apple. Our conversation was mostly about how good everything was until the last crumb of food was gone.
