11.15 Coffee and a Donut

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Remy treasured the donuts on his early morning errands. A nice black coffee with a glazed donut on the side and if he was feeling adventurous, a side of scrambled eggs and hashbrowns. The breakfast that kept him going throughout high school, college, and now his adult life.

He had a donut a day, and it showed in his gut and in the confidence that he held himself, though not as much as he dared think. Nothing to be ashamed about, just a wider waist than he was used to, but at least, he thought, it wasn't as noticeable as his receding hairline, which took the cake as his least favorite feature about himself.

He hoped that dressing up in a crisp polo and windsor knot would make him look like a gentlemanly gentleman, but it seemed like all his coworkers and even the people at the diner would give him an uncomfortable side eye and glance away quickly. He signed.

20 minutes tops.

That's how long it usually took him to receive his order and polish it off, not overly quickly, but not at a steady drawl of chewing that some of the older customers seemed to favor in their dentures.

20 minutes to delicately pick up the glazed donut in his sausage fingers and tear it apart with squeaky clean enamel, sipping his black coffee through a bendy straw and dabbing at the corners of his mouth in between each bite while scribbling neat answers into his morning crossword.

Just a day. Just a donut. A black coffee to get him through the morning.

"Like another?"

Remy blinked. He looked up from a four-letter word that the Beatles described as "all you need" in life to see Cheryl smiling at him in her turquoise and white diner uniform. "Another...?" he asked.

"Coffee. Or donut," Cheryl's smile didn't falter whilst the red in her cheeks only got darker.

"Oh. Oh, no thank you," the fabric of Remy's shirt strained against his broad shoulders as he straightened up to smile at Cheryl. The overhead light cast dark shadows down his face and made his cheeks hollow, his nose auspicious, and his forehead ridged. Cheryl blinked back at him a few times. "I've had my fill. Thank you."

"I've just noticed," Cheryl began haltingly, taking short glances over her shoulder to see Larry, the flamboyant fry cook waving his spatula at her in encouragement. "You only ever get a coffee and donut. And it's barely even six in the mornin' and I was wondering if you ever got some rumbles by ten or maybe felt a little hangry by the time it's lunch bein' as ah burly and muscular as you are."

Cheryl's face looked like it had been completely dipped in red paint. "Very muscular," she whispered, wide-eyed, before turning on her heel and disappearing into the kitchen to have what Remy thought was a very heated discussion with Larry.

He looked after her, then around himself at the empty diner to try and validate what had just happened with another patron, to no avail. He was early by normal standards, and the diner was just about empty this early in the day.

Not that Remy minded. He liked the time alone to reflect and prepare for the day. It was relaxing and he rather enjoyed being encased in silence with the occasional clang and clattering ambience from the kitchen. Even Cheryl's gliding footsteps and the repetitive sound of her wiping down tables and adjusting salt and pepper shakers was a welcome background noise to his musings.

Now he was wondering why she was acting so strange. It wasn't like Cheryl. She usually stole glances at him and fluttered about him like an awkward butterfly, more so than she should especially when the diner would get random rushes at 6:13 and she would have to tend to the other patrons but still somehow found herself at Remy's elbow with a pitcher of coffee.

The pitcher never refilled his cup and barely made acquaintance with others along the wall of diner booths and barstools down the long counter.

Remy shrugged and pulled out a few crisp dollars. He stacked his mug on top of his plate on top of the money and stood up. He brushed off imaginary crumbs and smoothed his polo into his belt, grimacing. Maybe he could do with a healthier breakfast after all.

He was thinking of asking Cheryl about it tomorrow, when he got the chance. 

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