Broken Roots

1 Welcome to Ida's

A/N: Title, cover, and description are not set in stone yet, I just wanted to go ahead and post what I've written so far! Welcome everyone! I'm writing again! I know this is the same song I always sing in a different font, but I do hope this time it sticks. I'm excited to tell this story to you all as it unfolds in my head. I have enjoyed meeting these characters and hope that I will see their story through to the end. Thank you all for joining me on this journey. Sorry I always go AWOL on you, my mental health is fairly consistently trash. But I'm trying to do more of what I enjoy, and writing used to be like breathing, so this is my latest attempt to get some fresh air. Enjoy!

CW: mentions of lgbtqia familial abuse

~~~~~~~~~~

Endo

I notice her immediately. It probably means I spend way too many evenings at Ida’s for the special of the day and a slice of the best pies that have ever graced this planet. It’s because of my habitual attendance that I easily recognize there’s a new face behind the counter. It’s unusual to see anyone running the show other than Charlotte, the famed Ida’s granddaughter who has owned the diner since she was 18, or one of her children or nephew Todd who usually works the afternoon shifts. I go to sit in my usual booth and I study her as she’s ringing up another customer. She’s a bit taller than average, looking to be about my height. Her straight hair is a dark brown at the roots, fading into blonde at the ends, as though she had let it grow untended. She doesn’t seem to be wearing much makeup, if any. Even in an unkempt state, she’s beautiful, in a raw, real sort of way. I’m curious about her story. What landed her in this little town, working in a tight-knit family-owned place? Why are her eyes so sad beneath the dark circles indicative of sleepless nights? She looks up, and those hazel eyes meet mine.

“I’ll be right with you, sir.” I realize I've been staring for a little too long. I hope she didn’t notice. I turn my head, glancing at the chalkboard on the counter to see what deliciousness awaits me. Looks like it’s meatloaf today. I never use to like meatloaf much before I started coming here regularly, but there’s something about this place that makes everything taste great.

Todd, who is apparently working today after all, pops his head out of the door behind the counter. “Brooke, what size shirt do you wear? I’m putting in a uniform order now.”

The woman, Brooke, turns from the register, and replies, “Um, let’s do a 2X.”

“Okay, cool. You good out here for another minute?”

“Yep, I’m fine, I’ve got it.” She motions to shoo him away.

Todd smiles, holding his hands up. “Alright, alright. You catch on quick, but if you need anything holler at me.”

“I will, thanks.” She grabs a notepad off the counter and makes her way toward my table as Todd retreats back into the office. “Hey there. What can I get for you this evening?” If I made her uncomfortable by accidentally staring, she doesn’t let it show.

I order the meatloaf and a piece of apple pie and then pull out my phone to aimlessly scroll as I wait for my food. In the background, I’m a little too aware of the banter between Brooke and Todd once he comes back out and talks to her about the ins and outs of the restaurant. “And that there is Endo. He singlehandedly keeps the lights on in this place.”

“Hey, I’m not here that much.” I lie, wearing a sheepish smile. Brooke also smiles, but it seems forced out of politeness. She doesn’t join the small talk that follows, instead she begins to clean behind the counter silently. Even when she brings out my food and when I go to pay, she is nothing short of professional. I consider trying to be bold and leaving her my number, but I hesitate given the fact that she is clearly not interested in even speaking to me beyond what’s required of her. Oh well, at least I got a good meal out of today’s visit.