This is a repost of a story I removed last year for publishing purposes. It was written for someone I know, (you know who you are), and I feel the same now as I did two years ago when I wrote it...
* * *
I had a real bad day.
I mean
real
bad.
I pulled into my driveway and punched the emergency brake, threw open the door and got out of the car. I slammed the door hard, trying to burn off some of my frustration. My dog Jack came running around from the back of the house to greet me as I closed the gate behind me, stopping dead in his tracks when he sensed my mood. He just stood there looking at me, waiting for me to enter the house.
I unlocked the door, tossed my keys on the kitchen table and flopped down on the sofa. Jack jumped up next to me and laid his head on my lap. I started petting him and took several deep breaths. 'I really have to get a new job,' I thought, as I counted to ten a few times and then went to the kitchen to get Jack his dinner. "I'm so stinking glad this is Friday Jack, I need a break from that place," I said, filling his bowl with Dog Chow.
Normally I'd call for pizza on Friday night, but I just didn't feel like eating in. I changed my clothes and walked to the diner down on Main Street.
Rosie's Diner was an old style type. It opened for breakfast at 7:00 and closed after dinner at 8:00. From the outside, it still looked like a diner car from a train. Inside there were about ten booths and, of course, the counter, to eat at. It was crowded this evening. There was only one seat left at the counter. It was the one where the server has to come around the counter to get to the booths that usually meant several interrupted attempts to put food in your mouth. Everyone avoided that seat, but at that moment there was no where else to sit and I just didn't care. I sat in the vacant seat and looked at the menu board on the wall.
Rosie always had some sort of special going on. With her being a devout catholic, tonight's was fish, a slice of pie, and coffee for $5.95. I wasn't in the mood for fish.
"Hey! Gene! Where the hell have you been? I haven't seen you for ages!"
I didn't even have to look. Only two people that ever lived on this planet have a voice like that. One was Ethel Merman and the other was Rosie McCloud. Rosie was the sole proprietor of the diner. She bought it in the 50's with an insurance settlement after her husband's death, and had run it ever since. She was now a very senior citizen, but you'd never know it by looking at her and of course, listening to her thunderous voice. She didn't wait on tables anymore, but she took the orders, and kept everyone up to date on the latest gossip.
"Hi, Rosie. How yah doin'?" I said.
"Great!" she bellowed.
I noticed that the drinks rippled a little on the counter when she answered. She'd make a good Mrs. Tony the Tiger.
"How's the meatloaf tonight?" I asked.
"Why does everybody ask that question? Okay, it sucks. It was made four days ago and has been sitting in the oven ever since, just waitin' for you to walk in. Any other questions?" she asked, as she whacked me on the side of the head with a menu.
"What's new?" I asked, as I ducked from another swing of that menu from her.
She held her hand in front of her, rolled her eyes, and hooked her thumb toward the other end of the counter. I tried to look, without looking like I was tying to look.
There sat an attractive woman that appeared to be 40ish, with long black hair. She wore a black long sleeved shirt and a pair of blue jeans. She didn't seem to be with anyone, and was sipping a mug of coffee, minding her own business.
"Wow, she's pretty. Who is she?" I asked, still looking like I wasn't looking.
"I don't know. She's been in here three nights this week. Never saw her before in my life," said Rosie, much quieter than before.
"You mean she's been here three times and you haven't talked to her? You know your customer's grandkid's animal's names. Don't try to fool me."
"Why don't you find out yourself," she said. "Now, what do you want?"
"I'll have the meatloaf," I replied.
She turned and hollered back into the kitchen, "One four day old meatloaf dinner for Gene!"
A couple of customers dropped their utensils with that sudden explosion of verbiage coming from her. I watched her, (without looking like I was trying to watch her), for over an hour. I had finished eating and was drinking my fifth cup of coffee. The crowd at the counter had thinned to the point that the woman and I were the only two left.
Rosie came over to me and asked, "You're very quiet tonight Gene. You didn't even complain about the meatloaf. What's the matter?"
"I've had a real bad week and today was down right horrible," I said.
"Me too," said the woman at the other end of the counter, under her breath. She didn't look in my direction; instead she just stared off into space. Then I saw a tear fall from her face. I don't think she intended for anyone to hear her.
Rosie gave me the 'go talk to her!' look. I gave her the 'what am I supposed to say?' look. She took a menu and hit me over the head. I took her advice and moved to the seat next to her. Another tear hit the counter.
"HI, I'm Gene. Are you alright?"
She stared a moment more, then wiped her face with a napkin. "I'm Natalie. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to overhear you. I'm sorry that you've had such a bad week," she said, as another tear hit the counter. She hadn't looked at me yet. She was staring at her coffee cup.
I looked back at Rosie and gave her the 'what do I do now?' look. She answered by moving her fingers like a sock puppet's mouth, indicating that I should talk to her.
"Ah, Natalie, that's a nice name. Ah, are you new in town?" I asked, looking back at Rosie for ideas. She shrugged her shoulders.
"Yes," she said, in a small voice. Another tear hit the counter. "Excuse me," she said, as she got up and went to the ladies room.
"She's done the same thing the last two nights she's been here. She sits alone, orders dinner and then sits and cries," said Rosie. "That was the first time I heard her say anything other than what she wanted off the menu."
Natalie came back out of the ladies room and sat back down on her stool. She looked at me for the first time. "Sorry. My week was bad as well."
"Tell me," I said.
"No, it's not your problem."
"Sometimes it helps if you talk to someone. Even if you don't know them," I said, in a low tone. She looked at her hands and began to speak.
"I moved here last weekend after transferring my job from Jersey. I was seeing a man that I had met at work. He lived here and worked in the Philly office. I would see him when he traveled to the Jersey office, maybe once every two weeks. We had a fling. I was flattered because he was 20 years younger than me. It was against company rules, but we did it anyway. I wanted him to transfer to the Jersey office, but he said he would have to take a pay cut to do it. So, I surprised him this week, by transferring here. When he saw me in the office, he almost fainted. It seems he forgot to tell me one small detail about himself." She closed her eyes. "He's married. Now, I have a new apartment and no job. I got fired today for fraternizing, all because I was stupid, and moved here for a married man," she said, shaking her head.
"Well, how were you supposed to know?' I asked.
"I just should have. All the signs were there, I just ignored them," she said.
"Do you have a year's lease?" I asked, trying to get her to look at me.
"No. It's month to month."
"Well, you have a month to decide what to do. There's plenty of places to work around here," I said, trying to cheer her up.
"I can't live on $6.00 an hour."
I looked at Rosie and she shrugged her shoulders. I had a lot of friends in town and maybe it was time to cash in on some of the favors I was owed. "Look, Natalie, I may be able to help you in the job department. Why don't you meet me here for breakfast and then we can check out a few prospects? What do you think?" I said, still trying to see her eyes.
"Why would you want to help me?" she asked, still looking at her hands.
"Because I've had a real bad week, and I need to do this to get my mind off of it," I answered.
She turned her head and looked at me. Her eyes were a bit blue around the edges and then all green. They had a haziness to them that can be best described as mist that you see hanging in a cool air over a warm and calm swamp. She had 'swampy' green eyes. She had smooth skin and appeared to have come from Latin ancestry. With her long black hair partially obscuring her face, and a slight hint of a smile, she reminded me of Mona Lisa. "What happened to you this week?"
"Nothing like what happened to you. Don't even worry about me. In fact, forget my week even existed. Let's concentrate on making yours better. Meet me here at nine tomorrow morning and I'll buy you breakfast," I said, patting her on her folded hands.
I got up and paid for my meal. Rosie hugged me on the way out. "That's the Gene I used to know," she said, as the door closed.
* * *
I realized while walking home, that my life didn't suck as bad as I thought. There were always people with worse problems than I. When I reached my house, I could hear Jack barking and whining as I opened and closed the gate. I opened the door and was nearly flattened by him jumping on me. He could tell before I even opened the door that my mood had improved. I grabbed my phone book and started calling in favors. I had no intention of going out to breakfast with Natalie with nothing to offer her. I made about seven calls when I was satisfied with what I could present to her in the morning. I flipped on the TV and watched some comedies before heading to bed.
* * *
I returned to Rosie's diner in the morning about an hour early. I wanted to talk to her first to see if anything was said after I left the night before.
"She couldn't figure out why you were so concerned about her." She saw my reaction. "Don't worry, I didn't tell her," she said.
I breathed a sigh of relief. With that, Natalie came in the door. I asked her to sit in a booth.
"How are you doing today? Better I hope?" I asked, smiling.
"I guess," she said. "What is it you want to tell me?"
"Let's get something to eat first," I said. I waved Rosie over and gave her my order. Natalie just wanted coffee and a Danish.
"I don't understand why you want to help me. I don't have anything to repay you with," she said, looking at me with those swampy eyes.
"I'm not asking for anything. So, tell me about yourself," I said.
"I was born and raised in Jersey. I was married before and have a few kids that now have kids of their own. I've been divorced for about five years. I had just started dating when I met the 'married man'."
"What was your job?" I asked.
"I was an insurance adjuster. I've been doing it for years after my kids were all able to go to school. I was making pretty good money too," she said.
"Here yah go," said the waitress, as she placed our order on the table. I added some sweetener to my coffee and decided it was time to talk turkey.
