The Fast Lane [gxg]

Kidnapping Cars: A Memoir by Bryan McBryan

Maze: "I just want to know how she is. How's she doing? Is she doing okay? How tall is she now? What perfume does she wear? Is she dating anyone?"
Bryan: "That's pretty bi of you to be asking."

__________

Maze staggered out of the car laughing and swinging her duffle over her backpack over her shoulder. She knew she shouldn't get her hopes up, but she couldn't hide her smile as she waved to Bryan's middle finger through the windshield before Bryan left the lot.

Maze stepped up onto the curb circling the diner's outdoor seating. She passed the front stretch of windows on her way to the door where she cupped her hands around her eyes and peered in. Her ma was behind the bar tapping her finger on the countertop between her and one of the waitresses.

She had feared that coming back home would mean noticing all of the ways her mom had deteriorated since she last left. That wasn't the case, though. She looked no different from January, sweet smile and all. Her hair was a curly black dome over her eyes and it matched every bit of the retro diner she owned.

When she looked up from the counter and caught sight of Maze standing there, Maze waved. She heard her ma's thrilled yelp through the window and laughed.

Her ma scurried around the bar in an instant and ran across the floor, yelling, "Oh! There she is! My baby girl!"

She unlocked the front door in the same second she flipped the "Closed" sign to "Open". The instant the door opened, she tackled Maze with a tight hug.

Maze dropped her duffle on the ground in preparation for it. She squeezed her back, her cheek pressed to her mother's hair.

"Hey Ma," she said, voice hoarse at the back of her throat.

"Hey welcome back, sweetie. How're ya feelin'? Did you and Shouto get something to eat? I'll make you breakfast," she said and all but pulled Maze over the threshold. Maze ducked down to grab her bag on the way.

"Ah, no, haven't eaten yet," she confessed, and that was rectified immediately.

She was still polishing off a plate of french toast when the first regulars of the morning trickled in. She sat through every reintroduction her mother presented to her—Willa's dad, who stopped on his way to work in Chicago; Maze's old pediatrician at the clinic down the road; and even Mr. Norman, who Maze spent all four of her high school years avoiding lest she wind up in detention. It was difficult sneaking into school late when Mr. Norman's always fetched his morning coffee from her ma's diner and knew for a fact that Maze slept in late because of it.

Maze grimaced at the memory of it. Word spread fast in this small town when her mother had no filter.

The waitress that morning glided up on her skates, spinning, and slid backwards into the slot between stools where Maze was seated at the end of the counter. She hooked her elbows back on the retro arm cushion that lined the bar top.

"Long time no see," Brielle said.

"You working the summer here or something?" Maze asked, because last she heard, Brielle Chandler was attending Northwestern. This would have been her last semester in undergrad.

"Something like that," she said. She crossed her ankles, sliding forward and back idly on her roller-skates. She tipped her head curiously to the side and said, "What about you? I didn't even know until your mom mentioned it, like, a week ago."

"Yeah, it was kinda last minute," she confessed. She folded her arms against the cushion in such a way that prevented Brielle from looking too closely at her hands. "I figured she could use some help. And I just wanted to... visit."