"Who in the fuck stays open on Christmas Eve?" I cursed under my breath.
"Slave-driving bastards like Mr. Brooks, that's who," replied Stacie as she strode through the swinging doors into the kitchen.
I quietly fumed, hands shoved in my pockets, leaning against the diner grill; heat on the stovetop matching my temper. It was Xmas eve and every business in this two-stoplight town was closed except for the diner. All night we had a total of ten customers, most wanting just coffee and a sticky bun.
I lucked out the first two years I worked here on holiday duty, but pulled the short straw this time.
Stacie opened the refrigerated cabinet across the room, retrieving a slice of Boston cr?me pie from the shelf before making herself comfortable on a stool in the corner.
"So JD, What are you doing for Christmas?" asked Stacie.
"Rum-spiked eggnog and watching 'A wonderful life' and 'Christmas Story' back to back." I mumbled.
"What about your family, back east?"
"Don't really celebrate the season."
Stacie pouted at my remark, shifting the pie plate between her fingers.
"Do you exchange gifts at all?"
"Nope."
My holiday attitude was probably turning her off by now, but I was already in a foul mood.
"Christmas has become too commercialized for me," I continued. "People who won't say two words to you all year are full of sugary goodness in the month of December.
"You are such a scrooge." She said with a tiny smile.
I watched as she began to eat, sans fork. She lovingly slid her finger around the cool dark top before plunging into the yellowish center, then extracting her finger and placing the gooey decadence onto her waiting tongue.
She caught me looking and with a wink, slowly slid out her finger clean of any evidence.
"I won't tell if you won't."
A hundred freaky thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could reply, she turned around and picked up the marker that hung from the dry erase board.
"One BC pie."
As she added the new entry to the waste sheet, I felt a little guilty. Damn my horny periods. There were days, even months where sex wouldn't cross my mind, but lately I had the urge to stick it somewhere other than the crook of my hand with a dollop of lotion on the side.
"I take it you have a big thing going on at home." I asked.
"Just folks, Tyson, and me" she said, referring to her little boys. " I haven't heard from Kevin, but he might show up."
Kevin was a do-nothing wannabe rock star that had the privilege of climbing between her thighs on occasion.
A jingle of the tiny bell above the doorway announced the arrival of a customer. I ducked my head through the slot of the sell window and saw Officer Dwayne P. Hobbs as he shook the newly fallen snow out of his hair and stomped the wintry crust off his boots.
Stacie exited the kitchen and greeted him with an empty cup and steel decanter of Java.
"Hey Officer," she purred, filling his cup before he had a chance to sit down.
"Hey beautiful," he replied with a broad smile. He glanced in the back and saw me, quickly wiping the smile off his face and giving a curt nod.
I returned his holiday greeting with a salute of my spatula and promptly left the window. We didn't exactly care for each other after a traffic incident that got me a weekend in jail and him in trouble with his superiors.
It was right after the previous New Years, when I was pulled over for "acting suspicious" by said Officer. "When he saw that I wasn't going to play by the "special" rules set aside for "my kind", he tried to play hard ball.
I played right back with him and ended up cuffed and stuffed. It wasn't until the following Monday morning that my fat got pulled out of the fire by an independent witness and I was released with an apology. Since then, we shared few words but many a fiery gaze.
"Gonna eat today, honey?" asked Stacie, leaning on the counter.
"Not much of an appetite, just coffee." He put down the menu and picked up his cup.
I sat down on the stool vacated by Stacie and pulled a smoke out of the crushed pack from the front pocket of my jeans. I was out of sight, but their conversation still floated through the window.
"Gonna get a couple of more inches tonite."
"I hope Brooks lets us close up early."
Hobbs laugh sounded like heated glass. "In all my years, I've never seen Brooks close early.
"If we get snowed in, I'll quit. Swear to God."
Stacie has been talking about quitting this greasy spoon every week for the past three years I worked here, but everyone knew that was a lie.
She had to care for Tyson and her on-again off-again boyfriend spent what money he had on music equipment for a Southern Rock band that changed names every month and never played in front of an audience. Besides, she made the most tips out of any of the other waitresses in the joint.
The bell jingled again and the voices of two more people entered the diner. I stubbed out my Marlboro on the heel of my shoe and got up. A young couple came in and took a seat in one of the booths adjacent to the counter. Stacie left Hobbs with his coffee and took them some menus. They ordered quickly and she brought me the torn off ticket. I wiped off my hands and got to work. Over the hiss of frying meat and eggs, I could still hear her and Hobbs talking.
"How about going out sometime?"
"Aw, that's sweet," she replied rubbing his hand across the counter. I whistled under my breath like an incoming torpedo. "But, I'm not trying to date right now."
"Boom!" I breathed out a little too loudly, causing both of them to stare back at me. Hobbs' nose tipped red with humiliation as he downed his cup and gathered his belongings.
"You have a good night," he said to Stacie before glaring back at me and heading out, slamming the door a little too harshly, startling the seated couple.
I finished the orders of bacon and eggs for the lady, steak for the gent, and slapped the counter bell with my spatula for pick up. Stacie delivered the plates with a smile and made a beeline back into the kitchen.
"That was mean, JD" She lightly punched me in the arm. That was her favorite way of communicating with me
"Guess I'm off his Xmas card list," I chuckled. She smiled and picked up the partially eaten pie. She dabbed a piece of the cr?me filling on my upper lip.
"Now you're an accomplice." I quickly licked it off, wagging my finger at her like I was scolding a student, but with a smile on my face.
Stacie was a looker when it came to the small town types, but her image would get swallowed up in the big city. She was about ten years my junior, but the daily pressures of child rearing and bad relationships gave her a five year handicap. She stood about 5'10" with naturally curled auburn hair that flowed past her shoulders, even though she kept it pinned up at work. Her eyes were a sparkling green that fluctuated like a barometer, gauging her emotional state. She had a decent body, but her weight wavered with each break up and make up Kevin. I trained myself to stop looking at her breasts that strained for freedom under her polyester uniform, but allowed myself carte blanche with her apple-bottomed butt when she wasn't looking.
Either from childbirth or recessive genes, she was the only white girl in town with a genuine black booty. She tried to play down the effects her posterior had on men, but she saw the rewards with all the attention lavished on her from passers-by and extra dollars slid across the counter.
Hobbs wasn't the first suitor to get the polite brush off from the serving vixen and he certainly wouldn't be the last, but she only has eyes for Kevin. Only God knows why.
"I wouldn't date him anyhow," she replied claiming her spot back on the corner stool. "He dated my friend Brenda and she said he was a 10 on the P.N.G. scale."
"P.N.G.?"
