What Comes Next

Chapter 1: Leo

Chapter 1: Leo

Boston, Massachusetts

I shouldn't have hit the snooze button, but I did. Maybe I couldn't stand the fact that Cara, my coworker, changed my alarm to an ear-piercing cover of her singing Justin Bieber's "Baby". Or maybe I stayed up too late on my computer doing research. Either way, I'm going to be late if I don't hurry.

I clean myself up, throw on my work clothes, and set some food out for my dog, Loki. I'm halfway out the door before I remember to grab an apple for myself. "You always work so hard, don't forget to eat too!" my mom always said.

Too impatient to wait for the elevator, I take the stairs to the lobby of my apartment building. Exiting, a cool rush of autumn air meets my face as I set out for work in a quick jog. Five minutes and one apple later I'm pushing open the door to "Marty's" restaurant as the bell rings above me.

"Hey Leo!" Marty shouts from the kitchen.

"Hey Marty." I reply, happy to see his signature grin. He wipes his hands on a small white cloth and tosses me an apron. "Have you heard anything from the lawyer?"

"Not yet, but he said it might take a while. You know," Marty starts, leaning over the counter to face me, "Maybe you should give your obsession a rest. Let the professionals do their thing. Go out! Meet some girls!" He winks at me and continues, "Take some night classes, just get outta here!" Marty widens his eyes and reaches over to grab my shoulders, shaking me.

I laugh and walk around the counter, "It's not obsession, it's dedication. No one ever questioned your sanity when you were working day and night to start this restaurant."

"Yeah, but starting a restaurant and investigating a car accident aren't exactly the same thing."

Bothered, my smile fades as I fix my attention on tying this sauce-stained apron around my waist. Marty sighs and walks around me towards the front door, flipping the neon sign to read "OPEN". Turning around he shrugs and says, "What can I say, kid. You've got your mother's heart, and her smile."

I refocus on setting the bar so Marty doesn't notice the pang of loneliness that comes on. I speak up, changing the topic. "On another note, are you still working on the hours thing?"

"Yes. And I've decided to wait until after the holidays to start serving dinner on weekends." He says with excitement and a tinge of pride.

I occupy myself with various chores while waiting for the customers to fall in. My mind starts to drift to Marty's comment. Do I spend too much time living in the past to focus on the present? My train of thought is interrupted by the sound of the bell. A customer strolls in and I notice it's one of the regulars, Ernest. He's an older man, around the late sixties or so, with a thin layer of white hair. Today he's wearing a navy-blue tuxedo in contrast to yesterday's bright yellow one. Every day he comes in wearing a different color tux and changes his order twice before he can decide.

"Hello, sir!"

"Hello," I reply as he sits at his usual spot at the counter, taking off his matching hat and setting it beside him. "I think I'll have the double stack with orange juice." he says, starting off his order. I nod my head and walk away, empty notepad in hand. "Actually," he calls, right on cue, "I think I'll have one pancake with eggs."

"Okay, sir." I reply and start off again, counting my steps. One. Two. Three. Four. Fi- "Wait, no! I think I'll have French toast with bacon and milk instead." he says with finality.

"You got it!"

With his order written down and an amused smile on my face, I make my way to the back kitchen where I'm greeted by Cara's bright smiling face. "Hey little buddy!" she says with her subtle southwestern accent. "Your Texas is showing," I tease. Her face reddens as she lunges forward to tussle my hair in retaliation. "Hey, hey, hey! Not the hair." I say, putting my hands up and moving out of her reach. "Little buddy doesn't even make sense. I'm taller than you, for one. And you're only a few months older than me."