Page 3 of Diners, Damsels & Wolves

Three

Clarissa

F aint orange peeked over the trees surrounding the lot. Gravel crunching under her feet was the only sound in the early morning. It felt grating on her ears, the headache from the night, working at The Barrel intensified by her bad night of sleep. After walking in a circle for more than twenty minutes, Clarissa gave up. The necklace wasn’t there.

Grumpy and tired, she made her way into Donna’s Diner. The comforting pale pink of the walls enveloped her as she stashed her purse away. Pausing, she took a moment to check her reflection. Bad idea.

The walk in the cool morning hadn’t woken her up as much as she hoped. The dark circles under her eyes were magnified against her skin, pink from the cold wind. She’d put some concealer on before leaving the house, but it only did so much. Sighing, she resolved this was as good as she was going to get today.

“Morning, Claire.” Sylvia walked in and Clarissa frowned at the nickname.

“Morning, how’s the kiddo?” she asked.

“Oh, he’s fine. Picked out green for his cast and drew aliens on it with a Sharpie. He’s staying at the grandparents’ today, then back to school on Monday. How was the rest of your shift after I left?”

“It was fine,” Clarissa lied. “Same old, same old.”

“Well, you ready for the same old one more time?”

“You betcha.”

They settled in to tackle the morning rush. She and Sylvia had been working mornings together for over three years now. They had a seamless system in place and knew how to work together without stepping on each other’s toes. Clarissa hadn’t even noticed the time or the fact that she’d mentally checked out, until Sylvia came up to her in the back room.

“Claire? Hellooo, you in there?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said there’s a gentleman sitting in my section who asked about you.” She smirked. “He’s not too bad looking, if a married lady is allowed to look. I told him I had to check if you were in today in case you didn’t actually know him because he didn’t have your name, just a description of you. Oh, please tell me you know him, preferably on the carnal level.”

“A man is asking for me?” The blood drained from her face and her skin went cold.

“Are you okay?”

“Does he have blonde hair?”

“No, his hair is red. Hey, did something happen? Why are you freaking out?” Sylvia asked.

“Oh, thank God, it’s not him.”

“Him who, did something happen?” Sylvia placed a hand on her shoulder, concern lining her face.

Reluctantly, Clarissa told her a brief and slightly edited version of her encounter with Alister.

“And you came into work today? What if he was waiting for you here? Claire, you should have told us, we’d have all kept an eye out for you. Those stalker types are serious business.”

“I know, I just … didn’t want to deal with it.”

Sylvia pursed her lips but didn’t press the issue. “Well, the guy asking for you definitely isn’t this creep who attacked you. Who do you think he is?”

“That’s a good question.” Clarissa frowned.

“You don’t think … maybe it’s the good Samaritan. Come to check on his damsel in distress.”

“Real life doesn’t work that way,” Clarissa said.

“No, but it could, they had to get the ideas for fairytales somewhere.”

“Hey,” Adam called out across the kitchen, “did the diner shut down early today?”

“No, Adam, Claire was just filling me in on what happened yesterday,” Sylvia called back.

“Those boys come back?” His face went hard.

Adam was an amazing fry cook and ran a tight kitchen. He’d learned everything he knew in the state penitentiary. Donna gave him a chance upon his parole when no one else would, and for that, he was eternally grateful. So grateful he was more than willing to rough up and toss out rude customers.

Five years ago, a man who grabbed Sylvia’s ass and tried to steal from the register needed his jaw wired shut after Adam shattered it. He was too terrified to press charges and everyone in the diner told the cops they conveniently didn’t see what happened. Donna gave him a raise after that.

“No, it’s fine,” Clarissa said.

“In that case, we got orders pilin’ up on us, ladies.”

“Alright, alright.” Sylvia went to grab the plates for her tables. “You know, under that rough and tough attitude, I bet you’re just a big ol’ softy.”

Adam scowled at her as she laughed and walked off.

“Clarissa, you let me know if you see those boys again,” he said. “Been a while since I beat someone. I need to take the edge off. You know?”

“Sure thing, Adam.” She would definitely not be telling Adam unless she had no other option.

Between running orders, Sylvia pointed out the man who asked for her. He sat alone at a booth in the far corner, looking across the diner. His red hair was long on the top, cut short by his ears, and impeccably groomed, and he had a short beard. His eyes were a soft brown. The flannel shirt he wore over a gray T-shirt stretched tight across his arms and shoulders. Her stomach flipped.

She couldn’t be certain since she’d only seen the good Samaritan in the dark, but something about him was familiar. His gaze made her nervous. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy made her nervous. What was she, fifteen again?

After running more orders, she internally plucked up the courage to go see him. He watched her walk across the diner, and a smile spread across his face. It was warm and made his eyes crinkle and light up. Looking at it made odd things happen in the pit of her stomach.

“Hello, welcome to Donna’s Diner, what can I get for you?”

His smile broadened. “I came to see how you are this morning. I was worried about you last night.”

He was the good Samaritan.

“I don’t recall telling you I worked here.” She cleared her throat.

“You didn’t, but when you said you had to be back at work at six in the morning, I took a chance you’d be here.”

“So, you’re following me now?”

“No, not exactly. I didn’t drive here behind your car. I’d say that doesn’t exactly fix the definition of ‘following.’”

Clarissa shifted her weight and chewed on her lip. She was grateful for what he did last night but wasn’t sure how far she was willing to let this go. He could turn out to be just as crazy as Alister.

“You came here to check on me, you see, I’m fine. Thank you again for what you did for me, but we’re packed, so if you aren’t going to order, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Alright then.” To her dismay, he opened the menu and started flipping through it. “What do you have here that’s good?”

“If you have to ask that, then you’re already assuming our food is bad,” she said.

“Fair point. Allow me to rephrase: out of all the delicious options in your stunning menu, what do you recommend?” He beamed up at her, a small laugh hidden beneath his innocent smile. She wanted to slap him.

She glowered at him, but his face didn’t falter. If anything, he grew more amused.

“The veggie omelet and hash browns.” She kept her voice deadpan.

“That sounds lovely, I’ll take anything you recommend.”

Huffing to herself, she went to the counter and put in the order. Sylvia was practically jumping up and down waiting for her.

“So?” she asked.

“So … It is the good Samaritan. And he’s awfully cocky.”

Sylvia quirked an eyebrow at her. “Honey, when a man looks like that and goes around rescuing strangers in dark parking lots, he’s allowed to be as cocky as he wants.”

“You’re shameless,” Clarissa said.

“I pushed three kids outta my vagina, and I haven’t peed alone in almost seven years. I ain’t got any shame left,” Sylvia said.

“I see your point. But what would your husband say if he heard you talk like that?”

“He’d say look but don’t touch. Same thing I tell him when him and his buddies go out to Spangles.”

Clarissa laughed as Sylvia took more plates of food out. She grabbed a mug and the pot of coffee, then reluctantly headed back to his table. Stubbornly refusing eye contact, she set the mug down to fill it. His hand shot out, covering the opening.

“You wouldn’t happen to have decaf, would you?” he asked.

“Yeah, we do, but usually only the old ladies’ book club drink it.”

“It’s a health condition, I hope you understand.”

Flushing, she nodded and scurried back to the counter for the decaf. Why had she felt the need to make a snip about his coffee habits?

Returning to his table with the orange-capped pot, she filled his mug. The smug bastard didn’t stop beaming at her the whole time.

“Do you need anything else while you wait?” she asked.

“No, thank you.”

Nodding, she left to tend her other customers, trying to ignore the way his smile made her feel. Underneath the anxiety was an oddly warm sensation.

Nope, she wasn’t going to think about it. She resolved to just do her job so she could go home to Rachel.

“Order up!” Adam’s voice called out from the kitchen window. Clarissa sighed. It was the veggie omelet and hash browns.

Well, the guy had saved her from being attacked, the least she could do was take him the food he ordered. If he got creepy after that, then she would sic Adam on him. Even though she knew she would never actually do that, it felt nice to know she had that option. Pulling the smile off her face, she took the good Samaritan his food.

“Here you go, need anything else while I’m here?” Without making eye contact, she checked his mug. Still full.

“It looks delicious. Do you happen to have any hot sauce in this establishment?”

“Yup, be right back.”

In a jiff, she placed it on the table, still not looking at him. She thought she heard him chuckle and her face flushed. Yup, men were infuriating, even the good Samaritan types.

Over the next twenty minutes, the diner cleared out. Taking advantage of the lull, Clarissa and Sylvia took turns giving each other breaks. Clarissa used hers to wash her hands and face and apply her oil and perfume.

Pinching her cheeks, she tried to wake herself up before going back out. It was always harder to stay awake when the place wasn’t as busy. On autopilot, she refilled cups and handed out to-go boxes for the few trickles of customers wading in and out. Stubbornly, she’d saved the pot of decaf for last.

“May I have a word?” The good Samaritan’s voice startled her from her daze. “Now that the place isn’t as busy, I was hoping to have a moment.”

She stared at him. He had an angle; she just didn’t know what it was yet.

“Are you able to sit? Or will that get you into trouble with your boss?” he asked.

“No, I can sit. If anything, Donna’s too lax on the rules.” She perched on the edge of the booth.

At this level, she was forced to look directly into his face. God it was a nice face. An ivory complexion with a scattering of freckles across his nose and cheekbones, full lips, and a strong jaw underneath his beard. She could tell he spent time outdoors, and wasn’t a stranger to hard work, but he had an air of someone who took care of themselves.

“I hate to bring this up again, but last night—”

She stiffened, edging closer to the edge of her seat. Breath came heavy and fast. Her legs coiled, she readied to flee. She couldn’t handle this right now; on a good day, her composure was held together with nothing more than tape.

“Wait, I found something on the ground after you left.” Rummaging in his pocket, he pulled out a long, delicate chain.

Her eyes welled up. It was her father’s necklace. “I thought I’d lost it,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

“The clasp was broken. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of fixing it for you.” He placed it on the table in front of her. “It’s a beautiful carving, did someone make it for you?”

“My father,” she said.

“I’d like to meet such a talented man.”

“So would I.” The words came out before she could stop them. She had no reason to be telling strangers about her life.

“I’m sorry.” His brows pulled together. “Is that why this is so important to you?”

“Yes. It’s the only thing that’s left of them both.”

“I see.” His voice was low. “In that case, I’m very happy I found it and was able to return it to you.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. It was the right thing to do. Both times,” he said.

Clearing her throat, she tucked the necklace into her pocket and stood up. Tears pricked her eyes. She had to get out of there before she started bawling. “Did you need anything else?”

“No, thank you, I can come up to the counter and pay.”

She rang him up without speaking more than necessary, keeping her eyes down. It wasn’t until his back was turned to her that she looked up to watch him go.

Sylvia was by her side in a heartbeat. “Tell me everything,” she demanded.

“There isn’t anything to tell. He found my necklace in the parking lot and came to return it,” Clarissa said.

“A knight in shining armor returning a token to his lady,” Sylvia said.

“Okay, you clearly need to get out more.”

“I get out more than you do.”

“Little League games and parent-teacher conferences don’t count,” Clarissa said.

“Do too.” Sylvia stuck her tongue out and ran her next order.

* * *

Parking the car in the dirt drive, Clarissa rubbed her eyes. Donna had let her go an hour early. She didn’t know how Jeff and Eugene did it, staying up all night like that.

As she unlocked the door to the double-wide, her exhaustion left her in a panic. Rachel wasn’t there.

Television, off. Recliner, empty. Kitchen table, empty.

“Aunty!” Her voice shook.

This was it. Her worst fears of Rachel going off the deep end while she was at work had been realized. She needed to call a home nurse. She’d skip as many meals as she needed to pay for it, that is, if she found Rachel.

“Aunty!” Screaming, she tore through the trailer without bothering to take her shoes off. Only an emergency like this would drive the dirt on her soles from her mind.

“Rachel!” The bathroom was vacant, the bedrooms barren. Where had the sheets gone?

Clarissa stood in the kitchen, her heart hammering. Movement out the back window caught her eye. A sheet billowed in the breeze.

She tried the back door. It was unlocked. Rachel was standing outside with a basket at her feet, draping sheets over the line, smoothing and securing them with wooden pins.

“Hiya, Claire, how was work?” she asked.

Clarissa sank onto the back steps, leaning her head against the doorjamb, taking in several deep breaths.

“School was fi—work? Did you ask me about work?” Clarissa’s eyes widened.

“At Donna’s Diner, haven’t you been working there the last ten years?”

“Yeah, I have been. And you remembered that. Oh, aunty.” Leaping from the steps, she pulled Rachel into a hug.

“You okay, baby?” Rachel petted her hair.

“I’m perfect, just perfect. Why don’t I change and we can go for a walk?”

“I’d like that. I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Same.” She gave her another squeeze, then sprinted back inside.

She traded her uniform for jeans and her old Batman hoodie. It was a men’s 2X that went down to her knees. She’d had it since she was thirteen. It was worn and perfectly cozy. After pulling her hair into a ponytail, she grabbed her sneakers and went out to meet Rachel.

They spent an hour meandering through the back roads around their home. Walking hand in hand, they talked like they hadn’t in years. Clarissa yammered about town gossip and all the people Rachel used to know, giving her an update on everything she’d missed.

Days like this were the best and the worst. Clarissa got to spend time with her aunt again, and everything felt like it used to. It felt safe and comfortable, the worries about getting Rachel proper care and meeting bills on time all shoved to the back burner, if only for a moment.

On the other hand, spending time with Rachel the way she used to be made it that much worse when she reverted and her illness took her. The stab of that pain was like reliving the diagnosis all over.

Clarissa’s spine went rigid, thinking about it. Today was a harsh reminder she needed to get Rachel in for more testing.

At first, she’d believed the diagnosis. Why wouldn’t she? Rachel had the classic symptoms of early-onset dementia. But when Sylvia’s father-in-law had been diagnosed three years ago, her suspicion was piqued. Of course, illnesses would look different in different patients, but they shouldn’t look that different.

Sure, Rachel got confused, forgot what she was doing, and was easily agitated when confronted with this fact, but the illness hadn’t touched her physically. Once more, her lucid days were a little too lucid. Something wasn’t right.

After doing her own research, Clarissa had confronted the doctors about it. They’d been evasive and couldn’t answer any of her questions.

Something was wrong with Rachel, but she had no idea what. She needed more testing; only problem was, she was still trying to pay off the bills from the last round of tests. How was she going to afford more medical bills and a home nurse?

Deciding not to ruin the good afternoon with Rachel, Clarissa pushed it from her mind, for now. They strolled down the dirt lanes, zigzagging across their neighborhood as the sun started to set. When Clarissa’s stomach growled, they turned around.

Back in their tiny kitchen, she found Rachel hadn’t eaten the leftover spaghetti for lunch, so she split the leftovers, automatically giving Rachel the larger portion.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Rachel frowned at the plates.

Clarissa blanched. She always made Rachel’s plate fuller, typically going to bed hungry herself. Rachel wasn’t normally cognizant enough to notice.

“I had something bad for lunch,” she said. “I think that’s why it’s making so much noise. I don’t want to upset it again.”

Rachel pursed her lips. “Take some Pepto, maybe it’ll settle down enough for you to have a full dinner.”

“Good idea.” While the plates rotated in the microwave, she swallowed a spoonful of the pink liquid for show.

Frowning at the empty leftover containers, Rachel peeked inside the empty cupboards, then at Clarissa. She took in a shaking breath.

“You aren’t going to classes at the community college anymore, are you?”

“No,” Clarissa admitted. “I haven’t for a while now.”

“And I’m not working at the office anymore, am I?”

“No.” Clarissa stared at her feet.

“How long?”

“I started working full time at the diner about seven years ago.”

Rachel braced herself against the counter, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Seven …” Rachel swallowed. “You’re too young, Claire. This isn’t right. When my brother—when your parents died, I took you in. I swore to take care of you . It shouldn’t be like this. Claire … You need to put me in a home.”

“No!” Anger surged through her. “First off, if you think I have the money to put you someplace remotely nice, then you clearly need to have another look around this place.”

“We could figure something—”

“NO. Do you understand me, no . You’re all I have. Sick or not, you’re my family. What am I supposed to do without you? Where would I go?” Anger gave way to hot tears. “You’re all I have, don’t you leave me too. If it weren’t for the photos, I wouldn’t even know what Mom and Dad looked like. You’re all I have.”

Rachel pulled her into a fierce hug, letting her cry until her tears dried up.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel whispered. “I just want what’s best for you. I love you, Claire.”

“I love you too, aunty.”

“Come, no more tears, our dinners are getting cold.” She kissed her forehead then lifted her face up, wiping away the tears. “Chin up, girly, and you’ll go far.”

They ate in silence. Rachel put the fuller plate in front of Clarissa. She didn’t protest. With their plates in the sink, they sat together on the sofa, watching old movies. Clarissa laid her head on Rachel’s shoulder, her eyes drooping.

These were her favorite days. The few hours when Rachel mercifully returned to her. Clarissa cherished each second.