UNINVITED

Chapter 9

     The spicy aroma of sizzling eggs and newly brewed coffee was the first thing that hit my nostrils when we stepped into Galaxy Grill. We’d hiked from where I spotted the Bergers to my car. Their plan initially was to take a stroll to the diner after the draining exercise they just did, but I was worn out I looked like I would faint when we got to my car. I gave us a ride using their direction instead.

     Before we settled in my car, I lied that the passenger seat was messy, so it was best I tidied it up first. Fortunately, they believed me and when I stepped inside, I turned on the AC and downed my water till the bottle was dry. Now as I followed behind them into the interior, I couldn’t stop the saliva that rose to my throat.

     A number of strangers stared at us. Their faces were blank, it was difficult to tell what they were thinking. If I were eating at a local diner and a trio—an exhausted woman in a jogging suit who looked like she hadn’t eaten in a million years, and a couple in similar outfits holding arms suddenly entered, would I lift my head and look at them?

     Probably. I wouldn’t look at the lone woman. But the couple? Of course. They were head-turners. Immediately you laid eyes on them, you’d want to look. They had this glow radiating from them that mesmerized anyone to watch. If not, then glance at least. Maybe that was the blessing that accompanied newlyweds.

     The place was nearly full, but I spotted an empty booth. I was sure the Bergers also did because they suddenly increased their steps to take it. Two or three strangers still stared at us. I didn’t blame them.

     We walked past a long counter of stainless steel appliances gleaming in the overhead light. Uniformed women stood by the counter, dexterously flipping pancakes on griddles, scrambling eggs in cast-iron skillets, and brewing coffee.

     Clink, clink, clink ... everywhere as they cooked.

     We didn’t seem to stop. It felt as though we were sneaking past celebrants to take the first pew at a late wedding ceremony. We moved from one booth to the other, passing by diners who occasionally laughed, giggled, or murmured. Waitresses stood close by, scribbling something into a small notepad while others carried food on a plastic tray.

     When I thought I was about to fall, we reached our booth with vinyl upholstery. I was the first to sit, plop down actually and after I did, I watched the Bergers take their sweet time in sitting across from me, their eyes never leaving each other. They still held hands.

     Amy withdrew her slender arm and sighed, then leaned forward. “You look better now, Elodie. How’s your leg?”

     I had almost forgotten about it. I feigned a smile, shuffling my feet toward my seat. “It’s fine.”

     “You got lucky. Last time I hit my leg, I stayed at the hospital for three days.” She glanced at Alec. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

     Alec bobbed his head, stretched a hand toward her nape, and soothed it. “I was worried sick. When you were discharged, I was so glad.”

     She smiled wistfully at him, then faced me. “You should have that checked if you don’t want to end up with crutches.”

     “You better listen to her, Elodie,” Alec said.

     I giggled. “I will.”

     An eager waitress neared our booth, a notepad in one hand, a pen in the other. Her dark hair was rolled up into a bun, her uniform, pristine. The smile plastered on her face would make a customer come to this diner again.