Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Charlotte Merolia had become exceptionally good at balancing plates of food on her arms.
"Here's your Eggs Benedict, Jerry," the 18-year-old waitress said, sliding the plate across the counter toward the diners' most frequent customer. "Patty, I've got your waffles right here. Need a refill on the coffee, Lynnette?"
"You're a doll, Charlotte," Lynette, a kind woman with big hair who only came to the diner to drink coffee and read her romance novels, said as Charlotte whizzed by. She stopped only long enough to top off Lynette's empty mug of coffee before moving on, a hot plate of bacon singeing her fingers as she made her way to table three.
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Cherry?" she called over her shoulder, picking up an empty bowl, the rim and spoon crusted in oatmeal, and five dollars in cash from one of the tables she passed. Cherry stuffed the cash into her apron pocket, an unadulterated feeling of excitement flooding her body as she did so. "Stephen, I promise I'll have your pie out in just a moment."
"Cherry, could I get a refill on my Pepsi over here?" called the young man sitting at table seven. Cherry suspected he had an inkling of a crush on her because he only seemed to come in during her shifts, but Cherry didn't mind. He was young - mid-20s, at the oldest - and liked to do the crossword while he ate. Sometimes, when Cherry came to take his order (the same thing every day, an omelet with a side of bacon and a Pepsi), he'd ask her for help solving a word and Cherry would pretend like it was difficult to figure out and tell him that she didn't know, even though she did. It was because of this that the young man tipped so well and if Cherry was going to save up enough for college, she would take everything she could get.
"Of course, darlin'," Cherry said, plating a slice of apple pie for Stephen and then grabbing a massive stack of pancakes for the children at table four with her other hand. "Let me know if you need anything," she said to the parents of the children as she dropped off their final plate of food. She placed Stephen's slice of pie in front of him and then headed toward the table where the young man was sitting to grab his empty cup.
George, the chef, and Cherry's cousin, yelled 'order up!' from the kitchen and set a full breakfast on the windowsill for the couple at table one.
"Thank you, Georgie," Cherry shouted, in the middle of filling the young man's glass with Pepsi. "Margaret, bring that to the couple at table one for me? The table closest to the window."
Margaret, the only employee who wasn't related to Charlotte, nodded and grabbed the plate as she walked by, just having finished taking an order from a woman at the counter. "You're spilling, Cherry," Margaret pointed out and Cherry cursed under her breath in a way that would make her mother shriek as the Pepsi overflowed onto her hand. She wiped off the glass and brought it to the young man, hoping he hadn't seen her spill, and made sure to smile extra wide at him.
The bell over the door jingled and in walked Iona Sinclair, a cloud of Emeraude by Coty following her as she sat down on the only vacant stool at the counter.
