*** The ride back to Boston was not as relaxing as the ride to Brimfield, since Karyn and I got stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the Massachusetts Turnpike.
After going on and on about the great finds that took up most of the back seat of my Audi RS5, she decided to listen to an au-dio book on her iPod while I took free reign of the radio.
As I flipped through the channels, I stopped at—of all songs— Mandy by Barry 61/727
Manilow. Definitely not one of my favorites, but it freaked me out because I remembered that it was playing when I walked into the diner that day. It reminded me of the moment I first laid eyes on Allison. It’s weird how I hadn’t heard that song in years and now I have heard it two times in a week.
Maybe it’s a sign that I should go back.
Mondays are the only days in my schedule where I have that kind of time in the middle of the day to make the forty-minute drive to the suburbs. Tomorrow is Monday and I am nowhere near ready to step foot back in there and face her yet. I would have to come up with an excuse to talk to her, but somehow explain the tip I left, if she remembers me and asks. Maybe she won’t bring it up but I have to be prepared.
No, I am not ready to face her. It won’t be tomorrow.
***
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Several weeks pass before I finally decide to drive up to the Stardust diner again.
I figured if I dressed casually, maybe she wouldn’t remember me as the tip guy.
So, I wore my favorite pair of Levis and a gray cotton shirt under a leather jacket, letting my chin hair grow out a little more for the past few days as well.
I needed to start fresh, grow some balls and somehow start a conversation without coming across as too forward. I don’t want to scare her off. Guys must try to pick her up all of the time and I don’t want her to think that is what I am trying to do because it’s not. I really just want to get to know her.
She has no idea how much. Aside from stalking her at her job, I just don’t know exactly how else to make that happen.
Lucky enough to find a space right in front of the diner, I put the car in park and took
the
deepest
breath
I
could,
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remembering the breathing technique I learned in the Bikram Yoga class Karyn dragged me to in Brookline last week.
Breathe.
Ok, F-this. What I really needed was a cigarette. I had been trying to quit, but if there were any moment to make an exception, this would be it. I reached into the glove compartment, grabbed my stash of Marlboro Lights, took one out, lit it and inhaled.
Breeaathe. That’s better, I thought as I exhaled. I am so going to Hell. After a few puffs, I tossed it and popped an Altoid, getting out of the car.
You dumb fuck, now you’re gonna smell like smoke.
Bells chimed when I opened the door to the diner. It was much noisier and more packed than the last time and there didn’t appear to be any available booths. The Long and Winding Road by the Beatles played on the stereo system and the only seats 64/727
available were right up on the counter. Damn it. I conceded that I had no choice and walked over to the counter seats.
An older woman with very bleached blonde hair and bright red lipstick handed me a menu and told me she would be right back. This was the same waitress who worked with Allison last time… Delores…according to her name tag.
But there was no sign of her as I looked around . The diner wasn’t a big place, so there wasn’t a lot of area to cover. The doors to the kitchen swung open and I could see one other waitress in there, shorter, red hair with...gigantic breasts. No Allison.
Delores came out of the kitchen and the other waitress followed. I could have sworn they were looking over at me in unison and whispering by the coffee station. The other waitress then came towards me with a bit of a maniacal smile.
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“Hi, my name is Sonia, I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you started with some coffee?” she asked in a strong British accent.
“Ugh, sure. That’ll be good. I’ll take a coffee and a salt bagel with butter, please.” I realized after the fact that I ordered the same thing I got last time, having not really looked at the menu. I had no appetite anyhow, once I determined that this had been a wasted trip.
“Sure, thing. I’ll be right back with your order.” She winked.
The waitress walked back over to the coffee station to pour my cup and I noticed her whispering to Delores again, but this time, Delores turned around and stared more blatantly in my direction. The other waitress… Sonia…she said her name was, jumped up a few times, laughed giddily, and then went into the kitchen.
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Delores came over with my coffee and smirked.
What’s up with that? Perhaps, she is expecting a big tip again.
When Sonia came out three minutes or so later, she set my bagel on the counter in front of me.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked with a grin.
What a fucking miserable experience.
“No, thanks…just the check.” I smiled but inside I felt like absolute shit. For all I knew, Allison didn’t even work here anymore.
I gulped the coffee down and ate half of the salt bagel by the time the waitress came back with the bill. I set my credit card down and she took it away.
When she came back, she was staring and hesitated for a minute before handing it back to me. I opened the leather binder, 67/727
added a tip and signed my name as fast as I could.
“Thanks, a lot,” I said as I got up from the stool.
The waitress smiled. “Thank you, Mr.
Callahan. Have a brilliant day.” I grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair and headed for the door. The bell chimed again on my way out and I left the diner feeling empty.
As I ran to the car, I realized I should have had the balls to ask if Allison still worked there. But that would have been too random and didn’t feel right. What if I lost the only means I had to see her? I decided I would go back a few more times on different days before I jumped to any conclusions.
*** The ride back to Boston was slow and painful. It was cold out, but I opened the car 68/727
windows anyway and let the frigid air hit my face in an attempt to snap out of my depression.
I had to stop at the condo to change back into my work suit, seeing as though I wanted to dress down for the diner, so as not to tip Allison off.
I pulled my jeans off, replacing them with my black Armani pants. Just as I was taking off my shirt, the phone rang. I usually let my answering machine pick up calls to my landline phone, since all of my important contacts have my cell phone number, so its usually just telemarketers calling me at home.
As I slipped my purple pinstriped dress shirt on and fastened the ‘trendy’ sus-penders Karyn bought me, I heard a female voice on the machine.
Hi, Mr. Callahan. I got your numberfrom the Boston white pages. I am hoping 69/727
it’s the right Cedric Callahan, but there was only one. I am calling from the Stardust diner. You were in here about an hour ago. I am so sorry but you must have been in a rush and you left your credit card in the bill folder. Your waitress tried to catch you, but you had already left the area. Anyway, if this is your number, we are open until elev-en tonight, so feel free to come by anytime; we’ll hold here for you. My name is Allison; I’ll be working tonight, so you can ask for me.
CHAPTER 5
ALLISON
It was rare to be home during the afternoon. Sonia and I had switched shifts today, so that she could go out with Tom tonight. I offered to take her evening shift instead. Sonia was part-time at the diner and only worked a few nights a week. When the phone rang, I had just stepped out of a relaxing bath, wrapped in a towel and decided to let the answering machine pick up.