of the summer crowd. Justine and I haven’t had a chance to take a break since we opened the doors this morning. The sun streams through the front windows and even though the air outside is still crisp and cool, summer’s coming. Inside, the smell of bacon floats from the kitchen.
I carry two empty plates to the counter, balanced on one arm. Justine loads up her arms with plates of scrambled eggs and bacon, and pancakes while carrying three mugs of coffee. I tried that juggling act once and when I broke mugs and sent a flood of coffee across the floor, Justine’s Uncle Tom said it was okay to carry less.
The dirty plates clatter into the tub, even though I try to set them down gently. “When’s your uncle going to hire the summer help?”
Justine’s hair frizzes out, and the pencil behind her ear suffers from what looks like a poodle attack. I’ve told her that customers don’t care to see her teeth marks as she takes their order, but she consistently brings in higher tips than me.
“Soon! I hope.” She heads to her table but stops and sticks out her hip. “Hey, Hales? Will you tuck an extra salt in my pocket?”
I grab an extra salt and do as she asks. Customers frown into their empty coffee mugs. “I’ll make the next coffee round.”
“Great, thanks.” A question flickers across her face. “You got the invite last week, right?”
My heart stutters, but I nod and then hurry away with the coffeepots, one caffeinated and one decaf. I didn’t answer but I’m not sure she expected me to. Of course I got my mail last week. She knows that. Her Uncle Tom has dropped it by our doors every day since we moved in last summer. But she’s talking about one certain piece of mail that we both received. It’s a plain white envelope, my name written with a black ink pen, the corner a bit crunched from when I almost tore it in two. Instead, I placed it in the very farthest back corner of my nightstand drawer, and that’s where it will stay.
A regular motions to me from the corner table. He has a wave of salt and pepper hair that flops across his forehead. He always has a smile and a nice tip, so I imagine that he hasn’t received any mail that threatens to bring down the nice, safe wall he’s built around his heart.
I hurry over with the coffee and hit all the tables. I’m distracted this morning and can feel my tips slipping away every time customers catch me frowning. I plaster on a smile and force myself to be more chipper. The morning hours pass and by the time the short hand creeps toward the twelve, I’m ready to crash.
The door opens and a draft of cooler air rushes through as another flood of customers enter. I sigh, grab some menus and greet them with a smile.
Then I see him. My hearts hammers and I force air in and out of my chest. Time stops, like we said our goodbyes just a few days ago when really it’s been almost a year. He looks the same but different. Shadows haunt his face and the bright part of his blue eyes that used to light up my heart seem faded, like they need a good polish.
He steps closer. My heart hurts and a lump forms in my throat. Emotions I’ve locked away push at the edges.
“Hi, Hales.”
Two simple words and I almost come undone. I seem to have lost my ability to speak and move as I stand there taking him in. His black hair hangs a little over his ears and his eyes draw me in just like before. But there are little changes too. His face is pale. Tattoos swirl around the top of his arm. Truth invades and real life comes crashing in. My knees shake, and I sway a bit.
“Are you okay?” He holds out a hand to steady me.
I jerk away like I touched a live socket. I can’t go back. The memories are too strong. Sometimes no matter how much you love someone, the past is stronger, and mistakes make love impossible.
A girl with blonde hair flounces in with a bright sparkle to her eyes. She hooks her arm through Seth’s and gives me a suspicious look. “Who’s this?” she asks.
“An old friend,” Seth says without taking his eyes off me. I see forever in his eyes and