The Farmer's Son

Chapter 29 Somebody That I Used To Know

On the shoulder of the empty road, the tan truck parked beside the wall of corn. Behind the wheel, blue eyes narrowed against the sunrise, the irises tearing up at the bright light, but refusing to look away from the blazing sun rising over the sea of corn. Only when it was fully above the horizon, hanging in the pale blue, cloudless sky, did Ray look away. Key in the ignition, he brought the truck that he had spent months working on to life with a satisfying rumble. Easing it onto the road, he guided it from the fields into town.

Farmers were not the only early risers here; as those who served those farmers, the town also woke early, and as Ray pulled the truck to the curb outside Sal's garage, other storefronts were opening up. At six o'clock Sal's wasn't open yet, but across the street the metal shutters had just gone up over the glass windows of the diner, and the sign in the door flipped to OPEN.

Meave was setting out the napkins and bottles of mustard and ketchup onto the tables when the tiny bell over the door jingled. Looking up, she met soft blue eyes under the rim of a faded brown cowboy hat. Now, Meave had spent her whole life in this town, and she, like the farmers that she served, had learned two things long ago: pay close attention to the weather, and never ignore your gut feelings. And right now, her gut was feeling déjà vu from a certain day way back in March, and anxiety at the reappearance of that hat after so many months.

But, being a mother had also taught her how to hide her feelings for the sake of others, and her rouged cheeks cracked in a warm smile at the tall cowboy. "Morning, hon," she said. "Now getting in or heading out?"

"Morning," Ray said, smiling down at her as he removed his hat. "Getting an early start on a long trip." This early in the morning, the diner smelled like coffee and floor cleaner and her cheap perfume, a scent he would remember many years from now.

She eyed the dark circles under his eyes, and the overall tired cast to his face. "You look like hell," she said. "Sit down, the first pot of coffee just finished." Going behind the counter, she placed a mug in front of him, then turned to pick up the carafe of steaming coffee. "Farm life catching up with you?"

"Something is," he said, smiling again as he took a seat at the counter. Laying his hat on the seat beside him, he sighed. "Can't say I don't deserve it."

The pot paused over the mug, then black liquid poured out. "I reckon you too young to know the difference between what you deserve and what you think you do."

Ray looked up from the coffee and met her marble like eyes, shining with decades of experience. "You think so?" he asked lightly.

"Bet money on it," she said. "Kitchen's almost open. Give me five minutes and I'll fill your tank for the road."

"It's a long road," Ray said. "Any chance I can get a little extra fuel to take with me?"

Maeve laughed, a smoker's cackle that made other people flinch, but that made Ray smile. "You got it, hon," she said.

The tiny bell above the door jingled behind him, and she turned to serve the two men that entered. Ray ate slowly, taking in the food and the atmosphere as more people filtered in, many of them recognizing and even greeting Ray. When he finally got to his feet, he was full in more ways than one. Lifting his hat from the stool beside him, he placed it on his dark hair. At the door, he paused and looked back, his eyes sweeping over the interior, at the cracked red leather booths, the faded linoleum floors, the high stools and the people who filled it.

Coming out of the kitchen with two plates of waffles, Maeve lifted her chin and called out to the cowboy: "You be sure and drive safe out there, hon. Keep your nose out of trouble, and if you come back in one piece, I'll give you a free slice of pie."