F is for Finn (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain)

Besides, I wouldn’t want to give the early morning breakfast customers the wrong idea that we were open. Daybreak was my experimenting time, not scrambled eggs and coffee time. Unless they were for me, that was.

This particular day was going to be fun. I had the diner to myself in the kitchen for the morning and early afternoon before Tony came in to help with lunch and get through dinner with me. I was working the whole day. I didn’t mind. Saturday was often marked by a strong ebb and flow, which meant I was never bored and constantly moving. It also meant that there was a host of more adventurous eaters in the diner, and my specials usually had tickets flying in the window all day and night.

Pulling open a notebook, I took the numbers down and started planning the menu for the day. All the regular stuff was on the laminated menu pages that were on all the tables, but the chalkboard on the wall would house my own creations. After deciding what I wanted to make for the day after consulting the freezer and the cooler, I grabbed the multicolored chalk and wrote the specials on the board.

With that finally done, it was time to get down to the real business of the day.

As usual, the second I walked in the door, I connected my phone to the wireless speakers running along the walls and put on my playlist. During open hours, it would play a soft volume of a variety of non-offensive music. But when it was just me or just me and the waitresses, the tone was different. Like eighties British punk.

With the Clash playing in the background, I unfolded the bandana I kept in my back pocket and then refolded it to fit my head and then rolled up my sleeves. Tattoos I had been forced to cover up in every other establishment were allowed to be on display at Dina’s. Helen had her sleeves and neck done, so she had no problem with the rest of us showing ours off as long as we still stayed in uniform.

I checked myself over in the mirror and grinned. Today was going to be a good day. I could feel it.

Flicking on the gas for the stove, I put on a pan and gazed out of the window. The early morning light was just peeking through the mountains, and as I cracked a couple of eggs to make myself breakfast while I prepped, I thought again about how lucky I was to be there.

I knew I didn’t look like I belonged in a small mountain town. A lot of times, I felt the distance between me and most of the other folks. But that was how it was back in my hometown too. The mountains were in my blood, the soil of Tennessee was what made me, like blood pumping through my veins. I knew I was where I was supposed to be.

But I was lonely too. Aside from Helen and her husband, Everett, who came in from time to time, I didn’t really have anyone that I felt knew me. Tony was a good kid and a hard worker, but we were strictly “work friends.” Not that I disliked him or anything, but he was very much a family guy and didn’t really engage in anything other than work talk. I think we both knew that our lives outside of the diner wouldn’t gel well.

Same with the waitresses. They were all extremely nice, but aside from the young one who was still a teenager, the others were almost all older than me by a decade or more and had busy lives with families and friends of their own. I was by myself. Alone in Ashford, away from my folks and the few friends I had back there. The others had scattered away, running from Tennessee like it was quicksand.

The sun was rising quickly, and while my breakfast was done, the prep for customers was just beginning. They would be lining up at the door at six, sharp. Since Helen was still on maternity leave, that meant I was in charge of not only getting everything ready to open in the kitchen but also making sure the waitresses had everything they needed ready when they came in. I would start with one at six and two more at eight.

That meant running tables was also part of the gig.

Anything to have my creative freedom and to be able to do it while looking through the glass and seeing those mountains.

2

WENDY

I walked across the powdery, white sand to the edge of the water. As a foamy wave swept in, the water relieved my skin from the sting of the heated sand. In the distance, I heard a loud sound that broke the serenity of the moment. The blaring noise buried the peaceful sounds of the water rushing in and out, the soft rustling of the tropical breeze, and the gentle call of birds somewhere in the distance, all of which I had been enjoying as I relaxed beneath my umbrella.