24/7 at the Q_T Diner
an excerpt

“Barbara, my coffee is cold.” The man at the window scowled fiercely down at his cup as if personally offended. His voice had a petulant edge.

The tired-looking waitress brought over a hot pot of coffee and refilled his cup. “Kesey, you’re a regular here. Get up off your lazy rump and grab the pot yourself, ok? I have customers to wait on who aren’t spending hours here for the price of one coffee.”

Blue eyes peered at her through red-brown braids. “Don’t be mad at me, Babs. You know I’d spend piles of money here if I had any.”

Barbara snorted and thwacked his shoulder with a fond hand. “If you had piles of money, you dreamer, I’d want you to spend it on better things than meatloaf and my cole slaw. Now let me get back to my real work.”

A dreamy smile crossed the man’s face. He turned to the window, eyes idly looking over the parking lot. It was clear he was in no rush to get anywhere soon.

The little bell over the door to the diner jingled as a young woman entered in a uniform identical to Barbara’s. She called out, “Hey, I’m here. Sorry to be late. My car was acting wonky, and I had to stop by my brother’s garage to have him take a look. Turned out all I needed was oil.”

“No problem, kiddo,” Barbara said without visible concern. “There’s not much shaking here right now, except for Kesey. He’s fit to float away on refills.”

Standing up with vast dignity, Kesey announced his departure. “I know when I’m not appreciated. See you in the morning, Babs.”

The younger waitress swooped in for a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I wish I’d gotten here on time, so I could’ve talked to you for a while before work. See you, K.”

Kesey smiled at her and tightened his hold briefly before letting her go. “You bet, Jilly.”

As he went out the door, Jill moved quickly to get ready. It was nearly 5:00 o’clock, and she knew there would be a rush soon for that meatloaf. She asked Barbara, “Do we have butterscotch meringue tonight?”

“Absolutely. I think we’d have a protest on our hands if we didn’t.” She laughed and went over to offer more coffee to another customer, a handsome man reading a newspaper. “Wouldn’t you protest, Gordon?”

He looked up and grinned. “Life without your butterscotch meringue pie is not worth living, babe.” His grin was off-center but winningly bright.

“Well then, you’d better have a piece now, because once the rush starts, it’ll go fast.” She went to the dessert display and pulled out a luscious-looking pie. “You know I had you in mind when I made this.”

“Yeah, right.” Gordon feigned disbelief, but his smug look made it plain he knew himself to be a favored customer.

As he began eating the pie, with exaggerated Mmmm-mmmm sounds, Barbara laughed and cleared Kesey’s table. Jill came out from punching her timecard and set to work getting the dinner menus out. It was suppertime.