The line cook waited expectantly, and Libby felt a moment of panic as she grabbed her notepad, her eyes scanning the pages furiously. She felt her heart speed up as the blank pages flashed by, the beginning of a panic attack well in the making.
Tears began to form at the corner of her eyes, and blackness tickled at the shattered pieces of her brain.
Pete, the owner and resident head cook, noted her pallor and flew from behind his roost, taking the pad away from her gently.
“Libby, calm down. It’s all right.”
His slow drawl washed through her, and the feel of his fingers massaging the tense muscles in her hands provided a token bit of relief.
Frustrated, she shoved the pad of paper at him, her voice catching on a sob.
“What’s wrong with me, Pete? Why can’t I just get it right?” She turned from him, trying to count. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t. “I was doing fine. I told him the specials, and he told me he wanted his steak medium rare with steamed veggies, and then…then I got distracted. Something was outside.”
Pete winced at the anguish that colored her delicate features. How he wished he could make it all go away. He was an old man, a widower with no children. His life was the diner, and when this little slip of woman drifted into town a few months ago, he knew she needed special care to mend her broken spirit.
And he had tried. Good lord how he’d tried. But wherever she came from had been nothing short of hell, and it took time to get her to trust him. She’d only been able to work and interact with his staff and the patrons over the last few weeks.
She’d not had an incident in a day or so, and damned if he was gonna let her get all out of sorts because she’d forgotten if a customer wanted mashed or fries.
“Take a deep breath, darlin’. You said he ordered steamed veggies, and…just think, sweetling, it’ll come.”
Libby fought the blackness with all her might, and was rewarded with a sense of calm that loosened her tight muscles and allowed her to breathe. She closed her eyes and concentrated.
It was only a few seconds before they flew open and a rare smile washed over her mouth.
“He wanted fries…and gravy, with a side dish of mayo!”
Pete patted her softly on her shoulders, “See, darlin’? It’s not that hard to do.”
Libby watched as the burly cook turned and shouted down the line, “Libby says the gentleman wants fries with gravy and a side of mayo. Get to it!”
The silly grin didn’t leave her face for a few more moments. Pete moved back behind the grill and flashed a smile of encouragement. “You did good.”
Inside, nestled against the emptiness of her soul, warmth flushed through her system. It was one more battle she’d been able to win. One more challenge overcome.
Her hand went to the left side of her rib cage and she massaged the sore area under her heart. Pete had taken her to a local doctor, and she was informed that her ribs had been broken at one time, but they had not healed properly. She’d had pain as long as she could remember; which by most standards wasn’t long at all. She had no memory whatsoever of life before coming to Winterhaven. She knew her name and that was about it.
The discomfort was something she’d gotten used to, along with all of the rest.
“Libby, we just sat a new customer in your section. I gave him a menu and told him you’d be with him shortly.”
Libby glanced at the tall brunette who stood in the doorway. Maxine didn’t much care for her. That was obvious.
“Unless you don’t think you can handle it,” she added, “’cause I sure as hell wouldn’t mind serving him. He’s smokin’ hot; all tall, dark, and sexy.”
Libby felt a headache begin to finger its way sneakily into her head. At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to leave, to just go up to her little apartment atop the restaurant and try to forget everything; the nightmares, aches, and pains…all of it.
But she knew she couldn’t do that. Pete hadn’t taken any money for rent, and she could no longer accept his charity. It was time she started contributing and paying her way.
“No, that’s fine, Maxine. I’ll be out in a second.”
She
counted to ten, ignoring the smile that graced Pete’s face, and marched herself back out into the diner.
Mr. Steak and Fries smiled when she walked by, indicating with a nod of his head that his drink needed refreshing. She quickly complied, bringing him a fresh pint of beer.
The customer at table three had his back to her, but she could see that he was perusing the menu, and knew she should go and check on him. Her feet shuffled slowly along until she was but a foot or two away.