*
I started work at the Fish Shack the next day. It was an old restaurant fixed up to look like the inside of a boat, with wood walls and lots of marine paraphernalia hanging around, nets on the ceiling, antique glass floats. It was down near the wharf and had a killer ocean view of the marina. Mike, my new boss, was really nice. He was a big friendly guy who always wore a baseball cap, backward, and Canucks team shirts. He knew lots of people in town and they’d come in to have coffee with him, his laugh booming out as he told story after story. I liked how it felt at the restaurant, kind of like a family. I got along with the other waitresses too. Most of them were older than me but they were cool, and we’d sit outside on our breaks having a smoke. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. Sometimes I’d even go to the restaurant on the days I didn’t work—I only worked weekends and Thursday nights for now. Ryan would come by and we’d order nachos or french fries. Later, the waitresses would tell me how cute and nice Ryan was and that I was a lucky girl.
Then Shauna and her crew started coming into the restaurant.
It was the middle of April, and I’d been there for two weeks. I was joking around with some customers when I heard the door jingle. I looked up, and dread wrapped tight around my chest, squeezing my breath out in a rush, when I saw Shauna, with Cathy, Kim, and Rachel. The Fish Shack wasn’t their kind of place—they hung out at the trendy coffee shops or the burger place downtown. Only one reason they could be there. Shauna gave a friendly little wave of her fingers. The other girls were giggling, but trying to hold it in. I felt hot all over, like I might break into a sweat. While one of the waitresses greeted the girls, I finished taking my customers’ orders, but my hand was shaking.
When I headed to the kitchen to put in the order, I heard Shauna say loudly, “We want to be in Toni’s section. We’re friends from school.”
I considered asking the waitress to switch sections with me, but it wouldn’t be professional, and I had some tables that looked like they were good tippers. I wasn’t letting Shauna screw that up for me. I took a breath, and held my head high as I walked over to their table with some menus.
I stood in front of them and said in a cheerful voice, “Can I get you something to drink to start?”
Shauna smiled, her tongue flicking over her lips for a second, reminding me of a snake. A really poisonous one. “We’d like to hear the specials, please.”
I described the chowder and sandwich of the day.
Shauna said, “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”
I kept a pleasant smile on my face and recited the specials again.
This time, Rachel said, “Can you tell me how the soup is made? Like, what’s in it, you know?”
The girls started laughing. I could feel my face getting hot. Some of my other tables were glancing around, looking for me. Luckily, I’d been paying attention earlier when the chef was talking about the chowder, and I felt some satisfaction at the look on Shauna’s face when I was able to answer Rachel’s question. But then Cathy said, “What kind of sandwich did you say came with it? And what dressing comes on the salad? Can you list them all, please?”
They were grinning, their faces excited, enjoying their power over me. I wanted to walk away, but I gritted my teeth and calmly repeated that it was a shrimp and avocado sandwich and listed all the salad dressings.
“Now, can I get you some water or a drink to start?”
Shauna handed me the menu. “We’ve changed our minds—nothing looks appealing.” She looked pointedly at me and my face burned hotter. “We just want coffees, please.”
I nodded, my smile now so tight it hurt. “Four coffees coming up.”
The entire time they were there, they only had coffee, ordering free refill after refill, sometimes complaining it wasn’t hot enough, then saying the coffee was too hot. Next, they’d say that it was bitter and tasted old, they wanted a fresh pot. Whenever I had to pass them on the way to another table, they’d snicker and laugh or say “Oh, miss?” until I wanted to kill them.
Finally they left. The other waitress said, “What was up with that table? I thought they were your friends.”
“We’re not friends.”
“Well, you did a good job of dealing with them.” She leaned in. “I had a group of bitches like that when I was in school too. Just ignore them.”