stairs to our door, I already have my keys out and ready. I glance at the bathhouse, wishing we had a normal bathroom in our camper, before deciding my shower can wait until morning. I can't count how many times I've showered at night and the lights have gone off because the motion sensors weren’t triggered or they were on a timer.
Mom’s asleep again when I lock the door behind me. Maybe this place is right for us; she's never been able to sleep like this for such extended periods. Usually she can sleep for a day or two after one of her episodes, but she seems to be sleeping well this whole week.
I pull my tips from the little bag I keep tucked in my bra, and hide most of it in an old box of fish sticks in the freezer. The rest goes with me into the bedroom and gets rolled with some others inside one of my mismatched socks. The stash in the freezer is for RV expenses and food, and this is what I use when I'm in desperate need of clothes or for any other emergencies that pop up. I've got a small nest egg squirreled away, which if you ask me is pretty impressive seeing I'm the only one who's worked the past few years.
I strip out of my jeans noting I'll need to do a few loads of laundry in the morning before work, since those were my last pair of clean pants. Crawling into bed I let the events of today roll over me. I make a conscious effort not to think of Dante or the warm fuzzy feeling I had when he caught me.
Six
Saturday morning passed in a flash between laundry, the small amount of homework I had, and a trip to the local grocery store. I had just enough time to throw my long hair in a loose braid before running out the door for work. I rarely bother doing anything but a halfhearted ponytail, but my hair is still wet and I'm not going to leave it hanging while I'm working so it can dry properly.
Maggie waves me in as soon as my foot hits the floor. “Laura, goodness I think I've already gotten used to you being here to help. We've had a steady stream all day. Can you run and check the bathrooms and then make sure all the booths are taken care of?” Maggie asks hastily, while filling a coffee with one hand and handing someone else a slice of lemon meringue pie with the other.
“Sure, be right back.” Thankfully the men's room is empty when I knock on the door, and after grabbing a few balled up paper towels from the floor and a wiping down the sinks, everything looks in order. The ladies’ room needs much of the same.
After a quick wash up, I tie on my apron, grab a half-used order pad, and get busy.
There's a short lull right before the dinner rush starts at five o'clock. It's during that time that Oliver, the guy with long blond hair, comes in. As soon as I see him my heart thuds with a heavy beat. He's utterly gorgeous but I don't think that’s what has my heart racing. No, I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the guy who said he would come here with Oliver and Milo yesterday and never showed.
I forget I'm supposed to go unnoticed, that I should stay far away from this boy and his friends. I meet his clear green eyes and he smiles, he hooks his thumb in his front pocket and shifts his shoulder, angling closer to me. I'm not sure I would remember my own name if someone asked me.
“Hi Laura, you guys been busy?” He's got a really nice voice, a smooth baritone, nothing nearly as deep as Dante’s but still very soothing.
“I just got in at three, but it's been pretty busy.”
Oliver rubs his hands together like he's anticipating something. “Alright, where do ya need me?”
I'm sure my face shows the confusion I'm feeling. Is he asking where to sit? People usually seat themselves. My eyes dart over his shoulder looking for Maggie.
I feel a quick brush along my upper arm, the static I've come to expect from Dante’s touch jolts me, forcing me to gaze up at Oliver who's moved much closer.
He's staring right back at me, his eyes wide and his pupils blown huge, almost covering his clear green irises.
“Ollie,”
Maggie