The left side of the street was as busy was always, not knowing when to stop its traffic of cars and people. Vehicles steered onto the road while people of all age occupied the side walk. For one with business thinking, it was the perfect area to attract busy customers who had no time to have a nice homemade meal in their homes. That is why, standing firm and strong, emphasizing the name “MAY’S DINER” in large bold letters that would glow neon red in the night would hit the city.
It was a frequent place for students from a close-by college to visit during their spare times. Mostly in the morning, its regular customers would be an old man in a bowler hat reading the paper, a middle-aged lawyer ordering coffee for takeaway and would at times have lunch here, a dog--walker passing by, and recently single woman who had nothing better to do.
The booth that was three booths away from the left side of the entrance door, where the spotless windows shone with pride and the tables tidily set with a small bottle of salt, pepper and sugar along with a large bottle of full of local ketchup and white napkins on the side. Tapping impatiently with his long fingers against the table, a free hand under chin, his eyes uninterestingly stared outside for at least one familiar face to be seen among the crowds of men, women and children. He sighed as the second hand of his watch ticked without pausing for his sake.
The chiming bells on top of the door rang melodiously for his eyes were quick to glance in its direction. His eyes that were filled with frustration of waiting and worry of whether she’d show up gleamed with a delighted twinkle.
She was a faux fur coat with a white scarf choking her neck. Her hair was loosely tied with a ribbon-like hairclip, strands of it lying on the side of her cheeks as if she tied it up in a hurry. She looked at the quiet diner, spotting him acquaintance at sitting on the booth waving her come.
“Did you wait long?” She took a seat opposite to him, setting her bag beside her.
“Not that much.” He sat straight from his slouched position, setting any arm on top of his seat.
“So what did you want to talk about?”
“Anything. I just thought we should, um, you know, catch up.”
It was amazing to notice that, like her, he avoided saying the words “break-up”, “relationship”, and “dating”. She felt glad and unhappy at the same time.
Part of her regretted coming here, but part of her would regret not coming here. Her feelings were unorganized, something she should fix.
“Would you like to order something?” a waitress with curly hair, who looked as young as them, probably a part-timer, stood at their table with a notepad and pencil in hand.
“Yeah, I’ll have some black coffee,” Bobby answered.
“I’ll just have some water for now,” Vivian said next.
The waitress didn’t write it down since it was an easy order to remember and there weren’t a lot of customers. She walked away to the counter, turning on the coffee machine.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” he asked.
“No, I’m fine. I’m just dehydrated a bit.” She tapped her finger on table so loud that everyone could hear it.
“So….” He trailed off.
“So….”
“So how was your boarding school?”
“It was good. I made two great friends though I had some problems at the beginning because of someone, but we became close later.”
“Was it a girl or a guy?”
YOU ARE READING
Garden Lights
RomanceVivian celebrates her seventh wedding anniversary with beloved husband. While she happy, she recalls of those moment when she was young and had to choose her love while facing many decisions and uncovering secrets along the way.
