Stella and the Boxer

Chapter 3

At 10:15, I wonder why he hasn’t been in yet. I almost start to worry about him; he’s been coming in at the exact same time since the second week that I’ve worked here. I remind myself how irrational my worrying is. Considering he hasn’t even directly told me his name, how could I possibly be certain of his schedule?

It’s quite ironic: I always ask customers their names so that I can call out their orders. But the first time that I saw him, I just forgot. He kept coming in and I never asked. He always ordered the same thing – his oatmeal – so it wasn’t like I risked getting his order confused. He stood just by the counter and waited, too. He would watch me. There was never a need to call for him.

For some reason, I didn’t want him to introduce himself to me while I was taking his order – it felt wrong, despite the fact that I’d heard Mr. Miller call him by name. I wondered, too, if he ever noticed the nametag on my uniform.

Allie’s shift starts and ends before mine, so at eleven, she’s leaving. I wave goodbye to her from my the barstool where I sit, sighing at the realization that it's an hour past ten. I so desperately want to ask Mr. Miller if he knows why the boy hasn’t been in. Likely, he wouldn't know, but maybe he'd spoken to him yesterday about his plans. I’d never worked on a Monday, so I wasn’t sure if the boy even came for breakfast on Mondays. Of course, I do not bring myself to ask any question of him. 

The rest of my day goes on per usual, and Wednesday follows suit.

By Thursday, I feel desperate to see him again. It sounds pathetic: missing someone whom I don’t really even know.

I arrive to Lighthouse and so does ten o’clock and at eleven, Allie leaves. Yet again, he’s not been in.

Mr. Miller has been quiet for a while, strangely, but I am so relieved when he says, “I haven’t seen Charlie in a few days. How odd.”

I too quickly ask, “Has he not been in at all since Sunday?”

Mr. Miller is wiping the counter when he answers, “Oh he only really ever comes in on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays,” and he stops to wink at me.

I pretend not to notice his gesture. If it's true that he only comes in when I'm working, I am sure it’s only a coincidence. Still, I have to bite my bottom lip and look away towards the front window to keep myself from smiling.

Then, I started to worry. He’s been coming in every day that I worked until we actually spoke about something other than oatmeal. That can't be a good sign. Mr. Miller thankfully interrupts my thoughts.

“By the way, Stella, I know it’s short notice, but would you like to be fill-in for Andrew during the evening shift tomorrow?”

“Sure, of course,” I say, happily.

“Okay, great. There are usually two of us working with Jimmy, but I won’t be here either. My wife and I are having friends over for dinner and she insists that I be home extra early to help out around the house. Think you’ll be able to handle it?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I say.

“I know you’ll be great,” he says, giving me a warm smile.

I leave Lighthouse at two in the afternoon and attend my Thursday classes.

I still feel a hint of disappointment on Friday evening when I think of how long it's been since I've seen him. I make the drive back to the café, fairly certain that he won’t be dropping by this evening.

The shift is surprisingly quiet. By closing time, I notice that Jimmy is rushing. I’m not sure what his hurry is for, he is so quiet and I don’t know much about his personal life, or his weekend schedule. I assume though, that he must have plans, so I tell him to go ahead, and that I will finish his tasks.