I somehow find a balance between seating new customers and rushing to deliver orders, my voice becoming hoarse in no time. Gus expresses his encouragement every now and then and I gradually gain more confidence about my new job, even though I’ve only been here for less than a day.
Harry locks eyes with me sometimes as I pass his secluded little corner, his futile attempts of trying to trip me falling short. We take turns making funny faces at each other, lightening each other’s moods.
Saying I’m thankful for him is an understatement.
At about five minutes to noon, an older woman enters the restaurant, bundled in a beige peacoat and a red knit scarf. Her dark brown hair is grey at the roots and the wrinkles that line her face give her a wise and friendly appearance. Chocolate brown eyes glance at me kindly as I grab a menu from the hostess counter.
“Table for one?”
She laughs, the wrinkles on her face becoming more prominent, “You must be Alexa.”
I’m pretty sure I’m going insane because I don’t recognize this lady at all. She notices the perplexed look I’m giving her and extends a hand.
“Sorry, dear. I’m Elaine.”
“Oh!” I exclaim, feeling stupid. We shake hands and I return the menu to the counter, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Elaine.”
“And you as well, Alexa,” Elaine responds, walking at my side as we head towards the kitchen, “Harry’s told us so much about you.”
“So I’ve heard,” I smirk.
Before I can get back behind the counter, Gus yells, “Take your lunch break, Alexa!”
Thankful for some time to rest, I smile at Elaine and grab an apple from a nearby fruit basket. I toss it into the air a couple of times as I head over to Harry’s booth, mind reeling with questions to ask him. Plopping down tiredly across from my new friend, I’m about to ask about his journal when he raises his head, curls shifting.
“Knock, knock,” he says simply, hands folded in front of his face.
I chew viciously on my apple, trying to decide if he’s serious. I sit forward so that my elbows lie flat on the table and I have to strain my neck upwards to see him. From this angle, his jawline is prominent and well-defined, curving upwards just below his ear. A couple of curls frame his face lightly and I get the feeling that I’m looking at some model out of the magazines.
My ogling is interrupted as Harry runs a hand self-consciously over his jaw. His eyebrows scrunch together with worry, “Is there something on my face?”
I snap back to reality with a nervous laugh, “Oh, no, um…sorry. Continue with what you were saying.”
“It’s a knock, knock joke; you have to say, ‘Who’s there?’”
“Oh, shit, right. Who’s there?” I finally play along, feeling my cheeks go warm from embarrassment.
“Doris,” Harry counters with a cheeky smile and a waggle of his eyebrows.
“Doris who?”
“Doris locked, that’s why I’m knocking!” he finishes, finding his own joke so funny that he slaps the table. His eyes do the crinkly thing and I automatically find myself beaming at him, my chin still resting on my hands.
Everything about him is contagious.
“That was really bad,” I state honestly, taking another bite of my apple.
YOU ARE READING
Heroism (h.s.)
Fanfiction"A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself." - Joseph Churchill. After a frightening incident on her way home from work, Alexa Mackie is left with more questions than answers. A mysterious stranger in black sa...
