Glasses, he mused to himself.
They were actually plastic and faceted in a way that made them easy to stack and store. The same kind of glasses could be seen in every roadside diner that opened in the fifties or sixties.
He twisted that hand and saw that the bottom edges had three openings. He remembered those from his time working in a pizza place during college. You could stack the glasses on top ofeach other so that a server could carry a whole shit load of drinks on a tray and not drop a single one.
Smiling at the memory, he moved to the empty table that Chloe had indicated and put one of the glasses down, filling the other with ice cold water and the ice cubes that were mixed into the pitcher.
He filled the second glass and set it down before casting a look at the next table over.
Sam took the few steps over to the table and gestured at their water glasses. "May I fill your water glasses?"
SEATON
The couple at the table looked up at him with confused smiles.
She was smiling, too, as she walked up to the table.
Sam saw her walk up and he grinned at her. "I'm volunteering while Margo's on her break and Chloe is getting food in the kitchen."
Seaton felt a giddy little laugh welling up inside of her.
"When you say you come here often, you really mean it."
She watched as he filled the glasses on the table.
She admired the way he did it. He didn't spill a drop or lose hold of the glass when he did it.
It sounded simple to most people, but she'd worked at a diner before when she was a teenager, hoping to make enough money to pay for college.
After hours of being on your feet, lifting and bending, it would be a great feat to do what he was doing. He’d just finished a shift that lasted for more than twenty-four hours. He didn’t look as exhausted as she was sure she’d feel.
She could also tell by the ease of his movements that he'd done something similar for work in the past as she had.
She held out her hands to Sam. "You want me to help? I've worked in food service before."
The front door of the diner swung open and the bell jangled again.
Seaton turned to look as a tall, brunette walked in, her curls managed to be both tight and blown out at the same time.
She sighed dramatically as she walked in, just far enough that the door didn't smack her in the butt.
"Goodness!" She scanned the room and Seaton found her fascinating to watch. "Where did all of these people come from?"
The blonde waitress that Sam had been talking to stepped out of the kitchen with a piled tray on each arm.
It had to be a record of some sort. Like a Guinness World Record record.
"Margo! Thank God you're back!"
Seaton knew that the blonde waitress had to have been an employee there for quite some time the way she walked between tables and didn't bump into a single chair, arm, or head.
She was just about to applaud the waitress' balance and poise when the woman stopped at a table and looked between the two trays that she was balancing.
There was a look of disappointment that Seaton had felt before.
The expression on her face said that the two stacked trays had been a good idea when she'd loaded them and lifted them up from a counter, but now, she was questioning the logic or wisdom of stacking it as high as she had.
Seaton stepped forward and gestured at the tray on the waitress' left. "Can I help?"
