All Too Well ⏤ Tim Shepard | ✓

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

September slips through everybody's fingers. Time ticks by, days pass one another as fall has well and truly set in. The leaves turn a rusty brown and burnt orange, scattering the sidewalk like splashes of ink on a blank canvas. The world is changing around them; the days get cooler and shorter, the leaves change colour, trees start to shed and yet, everything remains the same. Annie still hasn't told her folks about her pregnancy, Becca still avoids her parents and the threat of a gang war looms above Tulsa like a threatening stormcloud.

October has arrived with a flurry of windy days in succession. More often than not, Becca leaves her apartment with a thick jacket coating her body as the wind viciously swirls all around her. The wind curls around Becca's neck, a deep chill running down the length of her body. It howls in her ears; a high, sorrowful sound full of anguish.

Her curls fly in all directions as she runs inside the diner for her usual Monday graveyard shift, seeking refuge away from the chill outside. Warmth envelopes her as she pushes open the door, the bell chiming above her.

"Close that door, will ya? It's cold outside," Reggie, her boss, snaps. He walks past with his trademark scowl on his face and not the first time, Becca thinks her boss is in the wrong profession.

Becca slides behind the counter, wrapping an apron behind her waist and deftly tying a knot to hold it in place. It is a mindless action, one born of years working at the same place, at standing behind the counter, or gliding past tables and booths serving or taking orders.

Things around her change, but her job, this, is constant.

The girl at the counter beside Becca is not Annie. It isn't a surprise, as Annie has been sick all weekend, confined to her bedroom. She had covered up her bouts of nausea as food poisoning and to anybody who didn't know what Annie was really going through, it was believable.

With time getting away from Annie, the day looms closer and closer for her to tell her folks. Both Becca and Diana have offered to be there with her for support, but Annie told them she wanted to do it by herself. Privately, Becca and Diana think it's because Annie doesn't want them to see her break down after her parents inevitably don't take the news well.

Lucy, a girl who graduated last spring and remained in her hometown this fall, is covering Annie's shift. Becca doesn't know much about Lucy; she lives in the heart of Tigers territory and never have they shared a shift before until now. Her blonde hair is tied up in a ponytail, two long strands framing her heart-shaped face. She gives Becca a tiny smile.

"Hey," Lucy says politely. In front of her are the laminated diner menus. She is scrubbing them clean, wiping away crayon scribbles left by children and the regular dirt and grime that comes from patrons gripping the edges, intently scouring the menu as they order.

Cleaning the menus is a tedious job and Becca isn't envious at all that Lucy has been assigned that task.

Becca spends her shift taking orders and serving the regulars that shuffle into the diner late at night. Marjorie Green sits in her usual spot at the counter three seats away from the door, a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. Then there's Joe, another regular who comes in to eat after his late-night shift ends at the factory. He always sits at a table in the middle of the diner, and always the same thing: double-stack buttermilk pancakes with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and strawberries. A hot chocolate accompanies his pancakes ⏤ even in the middle of July when the humidity hangs in the air like a weighted blanket. He smiles when Becca places his pancakes down in front of him, the lines around his mouth deepening.

"Thank you," he says in a gravelly voice, the sound just as rough when tires of a car roll over gravel. He pauses like he is going to add something but decides against it, picking up his knife and fork and cutting into a pancake.