“She’s an employee. A friend. That’s all,” he says, matter-of-factly.
“Who you happen to fuck . . .” Sniper interrupts from behind the line, peeking over the metal shelf that separates the kitchen from the front line. I copy George’s stance and cross my arms, giving him a knowing look, feeling good that Sniper backed me up.
“Fuck off,” George snaps at Sniper before he shakes his head and instead of addressing Sniper or my proclamation, he pivots back toward me. “Jealous, Charlotte?” His eyes scan me from head to toe, his eyes darkening as he does. I know he’s trying to unnerve me, avoiding talking about Misty, but I can’t stop the heat that crawls up my neck and blankets my cheeks. It’s been so long since a man looked at me like that. I quickly shake it off and get back to business.
I snort. “Wow. So desperate to avoid the topic of Misty, you’d commit sexual harassment. Nice move, boss.”
“Just admit it, George. Misty hangs on your sac like a monkey on a tree,” Sniper calls from behind the line. “Ooo-Ooo-Eee-Eee,” Sniper heckles as he tromps around, scratching under his arms. I can’t help it, I burst in to laughter.
“Put a sock in it, Sniper!” George calls, anger lacing his tone. I bite my lip to stifle my giggles and busy myself putting lemon wedges on the glasses of tea.
“No worries, boss. No judgment here,” I manage as I smile and take the drinks.
As I exit the kitchen, I hear Sniper say, “She’s a saucy one, isn’t she?”
“She’s something, all right,” George mumbles.
Two hours later, the lunch rush has died down, and I busy myself sweeping under my tables and filling my sugar caddies. I’m alone on the floor as George and Sniper are in the back, and Misty went home feigning a headache. Apparently, she plans to return for the evening shift.
Awesome.
“How much did you make today?” Ike asks as he sits in one of my booths, watching me.
“Fifty,” I reply and shrug. For a small town lunch shift, it’s not horrible, but it’s not great either.
“You work tonight, right? You’ll make more,” he assures me. He knows I’m worried about money. Thus far, I’ve had to rely solely on the kindness of strangers, and I can’t stand it. It makes me feel worthless. I feel better about my motel room, but Ginger only has me staying in and cleaning one of her rooms. I’m not sure how likely it is I’ll really be ‘earning’ my stay.
“You know, you look like a young Audrey Hepburn,” Ike adds suddenly. “I always thought she was hot.” I snort and shake my head at his ridiculous lie of a compliment. I look nothing like Audrey Hepburn. She was classic, timeless, and regal. I’m . . . well . . . me. “What?” he asks, as if he’s offended. “I mean it. Why would I lie? It’s not like I’m trying to get in your pants. I mean . . . I’d like to, but you know . . . the whole dead thing and all would make it kind of difficult. ” I can’t help it, I laugh out loud. Good thing I’m the only one on the floor . . . well only one alive anyway. “There it is,” he sighs as a satisfied smile spreads across his lips. “You have an amazing smile, Charlotte.” I can’t help it. I blush. Ike McDermott is a natural charmer through and through. He can’t help himself. I wish for a moment I could’ve seen him when he was alive, living day-to-day. I imagine the chipper demeanor I see now is only a glimmer of what he was like when he was alive. My heart pangs at the thought.
Just as I finish sweeping and head to the kitchen to put the broom and dustpan away, Anna comes in, a little, blonde girl trailing behind her. I know immediately she’s Anna’s daughter; they look so much alike, it’s as if Anna spit her right out of her mouth.
“Hey, Char,” Anna practically sings as she pulls me in for a hug. I’m a little stunned. I’m not much of a hugger as it is, and I didn’t think Anna and I were anywhere near that kind of friendly affection in our short friendship. But I pat her back awkwardly with one hand in reciprocation.
“Hey, Anna. Who is this little beauty?” I beam at the little girl as I pull away from Anna’s bear hug.
“This is River,” Anna replies, and nudges the little girl forward. “River, this is Mommy’s good friend, Char.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Char,” River says, shyly, as she smiles.
“Nice to meet you, too.” I reach a hand out to shake hers, which she takes.
“Char, could you keep an eye on her for a minute? I need to talk to George about my schedule.”
“Sure. Would you mind taking the broom and dustpan back for me on your way?”
“Sure wouldn’t.” Anna takes them from me and scurries to the back.
“Mommy gave me two dollars in quarters before we came in so I can play the jukebox.” River reaches in her pockets and pulls out the quarters. One falls to the floor, rolling away and she chases after it, hunched over as she goes.