The sound of a bell jingled as Melissa stepped into the diner. She smirked, taking in the white floor, counter tops, wall and retro furnishings. "Leave it to Sally," she muttered, before making a scan of the room. Several booths and tables were already full of local gentry, as were the bar stools that lined the chrome accented bar.
"Mel!"
Melissa Blackburn turned toward the sound of her name, and smiled. Her old college friend, Sally Tuttle was sitting at a corner booth, waving furiously. As Melissa approached she couldn't help but notice that Sally still looked like the college chum from days gone by. Her blonde hair hung in curls to her shoulders, her cheeks were slightly pink – indicating she'd most likely been out for her morning run and was just chillin' with a tall glass of water with lemon.
By the time Melissa reached Sally, the young woman was out of her seat, arms extended. They embraced, held hands, stepped back and took a quick look at each other. "Oh wow!" Melissa exclaimed taking in the obvious baby bump on her friend. "Maybe that blush isn't from your morning run."
Sally laughed, "No, it is. I just don't run as fast or as far as I used to." Sally rubbed her stomach before sliding back into the booth. Melissa slid in opposite of her friend and grinned. The two women held hands for a moment, each giving a gentle squeeze before separating. "I can't believe you're finally here!"
Melissa laughed. "Neither can I. It's been what – eight, nine years?"
"Almost ten," Sally told her, before pulling a menu from the silver holder and handing it to her, "I know you like waffles, so I'm going to recommend the waffles and fried chicken. It's awesome!"
"I bet!" Melissa scanned the menu. "So," she glanced at her friend, "when are you due and why didn't you tell me online?"
"August 3rd, and I just assumed you had read my updates and looked at my photos once you accepted my friend request."
Melissa blushed. "Yeah, I should have, but honestly – I barely have time to log in, let alone read status updates and scan photos. I probably wouldn't have been on that day and seen your friend requests had it not been for the fact I was fighting the flu. I just don't have time these days."
Sally's smile faltered. "I guess, running your own business does leave you little free time, doesn't it."
"Yep," Melissa confirmed.
Before she could go into detail about her business, their server arrived. "What can I get you?"
Melissa and Sally turned as one. Sally grinned, "Hey stud. I didn't know you were in town." Melissa studied the waiter. He was a tall black man, his hair cut close to his head, and he wore a two, maybe three day growth of facial hair. His eyes were charcoal gray, and when he smiled at Sally, he did so with genuine heartfelt friendship.
"I'm helping dad this week. He's bound and determined to get that car up and running."
"His dad is restoring a old car," Sally mentioned to Mel, "Buick right?"
Melissa smiled politely, but already felt her eyes glazing over as Sally talked to the man about the coming and goings of the town's locals. "I think your friend is ready to order," the server said, bringing Melissa back to the task at hand.
"Yeah, I am."
Sally bit her lip, and blushed. "Well, you know what I like, so the usual for me."
"Alrighty and you miss?"
She glanced at his shirt, his name was written in red script. "Well, Lou – I'll have the waffles and fried chicken – white meat please."
Sally opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when Lou shook his head. "I bet you want coffee, black – no sugar," he said to her friend.
"He's got your number," Sally giggled softly.
"Hardly," Melissa muttered. She looked up at Lou. "Sorry, headache. Coffee will be fine."
He walked away, tucking his pencil behind his ear, order in hand. He felt Sally's apology in the air, and the sting of being insignificant in her friend's eye on his back. There was no doubt in his mind, the newcomer didn't belong in their town. Her manicured fingers spoke professional, not home-kit, and her hair looked as if only the finest salons were allowed to caress their ruby curls. She probably spent more on her make-up than he did on his monthly car payment. The shoes, skirt, tank top, and pearls she wore screamed money and when she had dismissed him without a second glance he found himself hoping that Sally would eat quick, so she and her friend could leave. He liked Sally – so why the young perky blonde was having breakfast with Uptown Girl, was lost to him.
"Order in," he called to his father, who was behind the giant stove scrambling eggs and flipping sausage patties.
"So is that bitch as hot as she looked?"
Gray eyes turned to look at Bryon, a local teen who had a way with words. "She's only looks hot, Bry. Inside, she's all ice," he answered.
"I got somethin' that'll melt her." The young man reached under the counter and grabbed his crotch. He laughed hard, and grinned.
"You keep rubbing that thing, it'll fall off. Finish your soda and get out of here," a girl muttered, as she stepped behind the young man and moved to take a seat next to him. "Your mom just called and you're supposed to be at your grandfather's – so get."
"Aw man, you told her I was here? You're no friend of mine Bridgett, no friend at all." Bryon finished his drink, grabbed his hat from the counter, pushed it on his head and dropped some dollar bills by his plate. "So you gonna let me take you to the dance tomorrow night?"
Bridgett sighed. "I guess, but don't you be late and don't bring that dumb dog of yours. Make sure my seat is clean too. Last time I rode in your truck, I was covered in dog hair."
"You know you like Spike and he likes you."
"Go on," Bridgett laughed, "your Princess is over there waving you down."
They all glanced at the new person in town and Sally. "Good luck with that one," Bryon said, before making his way toward the front door.
"Fuck, I forgot her coffee."
Bridgett laughed. "I'll serve it, you get her food."
"Thanks – black, no sugar."
He watched the teen waitress pick up the coffee pot and make her way past several of her friends and family. A part of him wanted to stare at her, to make sure she left the table with her pride intact. If the ice princess was as cold to Bridgett as she had been to him, he wasn't sure he'd be able to maintain his professional demeanor.
"Order up!"