Chapter 3 - Coming Home [https://cdn.midjourney.com/f07f3689-8020-4ffa-b55f-0100c26e9a5d/0_2.png]
Jittering her knee in the back of the beat-up Rideshare, Kennedy’s bladder ached. The bathroom at the bus station/post office combo had been closed for repairs. A stabbing sensation crossed her pelvis. She was not planning to pee in this guy’s car, but if he didn’t get to the diner soon, her bladder might make an independent decision. When he pulled up to the worn brick building, she muffled a groan of relief. Canyon Grill. Phone in hand, she escaped the vehicle without accident and slung her backpack over one shoulder. With her thighs pressed together, Kennedy waddled toward the public restroom the driver had recommended, dragging her suitcase behind her. The bell above the diner’s door chimed as Kennedy swung through and made a beeline for the restrooms.
The line cook behind the Formica counter called out to her, “Bathrooms are only for paying customers.”
Waving him off, she said, “I’ll buy something, but I’d rather not piss on your floor first.” Swinging the bathroom door open, she didn’t wait to hear his response.
Gratitude flooded through her body at the sight of an empty stall. The relief made her shudder and caused tiny black spots at the edges of her peripheral vision. Her eyes had been acting weird for the past few weeks. Sometimes colors seemed brighter. She was pretty sure she had never smoked anything strong enough to come back and haunt her later, and it wasn’t like being high. The difference tickled at her brain.
With her hands freshly washed and her backpack slung over both shoulders, she headed to an empty booth by the window and slid across its plastic seat. Her suitcase fit neatly under the table. A server with teased mouse-brown hair and more wrinkles than Moses placed a menu on the scarred table. Next to the rolled silverware, the waitress settled a cup of unasked-for tea before her.
“I don’t drink tea.”
“Everybody in this town drinks tea. It’s our thing. On the house, complimentary.” She drew a pen out of her apron. “What do you want?”
Kennedy hadn’t had time to look at the menu. She pushed the tea back toward the server. “I won’t drink this. Any chance you make smoothies?”
The woman shrugged. “Milkshakes. And you really should try our tea.” Jaw tightening, she firmly pushed the chipped cup and saucer back toward Kennedy.
“No, thanks.” Not one for bullshit, Kennedy pushed the cup away from her and across the table until it teetered on the far edge. Holding eye contact with the woman, she said, “I don’t drink tea, but I’ll take a strawberry milkshake.”
“Suit yourself.” A muscle at the corner of the woman’s eye twitched and her lips thinned as she retreated to the main counter. Bitter and woodsy, the tea smelled similar to the morning concoctions her Mom made her. She’d brought along enough of her Mom’s magic herbal mix to last the trip. Kennedy’s friends hated the smell of it so much that she’d gotten into the habit of keeping her supply in a stink sack in her room. Kennedy had never been sick a day in her life. Not even the time that her entire second-grade class had come down with the flu. All alone, Kennedy sat for days with a substitute teacher. He’d taught her how to make paper airplanes.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
When her milkshake came, Kennedy reached for it with both hands. “I’m going to try your meatloaf.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Kennedy blinked and looked up. “Why not?”
“I mean, you can eat it if you want to, but the roast chicken is a better option. Or the BLT. It’s hard to mess up.” She tapped her order pad with the tip of her pen. “The cook doesn’t like outsiders.”
“I’ll take some fries.” Kennedy unrolled her silverware and claimed the spoon. “I’m gonna need ketchup too.” She arched one brow. “I mean… if that is a safe option.”
“Pretty safe.”
The milkshake was properly pink, but it didn’t taste like strawberries. She dug out the herbs that her mother had packed for her in tiny square baggies. It wasn’t bad mixed in a smoothie. In this one way, she could do what her mom wanted. She dumped the contents into her milkshake. The taste wasn’t bad. As she stirred, she wondered which herbs were in both her mother’s mix and the town’s famous tea.
When the server placed her fries on the table, her gaze lingered over long on the speckles in Kennedy’s milkshake.
“It’s just vitamins.” Kennedy pulled the plate of fries close, her stomach clenching and complaining about how long it had been since breakfast.
“I see.” The waitress reached for the untouched tea. “Enjoy.” Retreating with the teacup, the older woman looked back at her once as if she had questions.
Kennedy saluted her with a French fry and tucked into her lunch.
When the waitress placed the bill next to her napkin, Kennedy put the picture of her folks on the table on top of the scrap of paper. The woman looked like she’d lived here forever. “Any chance you know them?”
Visibly recoiling, the waitress flashed a glance toward the cook behind the counter and wiped her hands on her apron as if they were dirty. Focused on the grill, his broad back and faded t-shirt gave them a little privacy. “That’s a pretty old picture.”
“Please, take a look. It’s my folks.”
Her ash-gray eyes searched Kennedy’s face. “We don’t like looking backward around here.”
“Just one look. I’ll make your tip worth it.”
The woman bent over and put on the glasses that hung around her neck. “Can’t say I know either of them. That big rock, though.” She pointed at the photograph, but kept her fingertip from touching the surface. “You can find it up by the lake, west of the canyon. Be content with that. I would recommend you don’t go around here asking questions.” She glanced back at the counter. “We are private folk. Looking into the past is frowned upon and considered bad luck.”
Kennedy covered the photograph protectively with her hand and shot a glance toward the counter.
The woman gestured with her closed pen toward the hotel across the street. “You’ll enjoy your stay more if you keep to the present. There are pretty hikes in the area. Weather should be good the next few days.” The hotel across the street needed some paint and the neon open sign flickered inconsistently. “You don’t have to wait for the official check-in time. Loretta will give you your room key.”
“How do you know I’m going to the hotel?”
She looked pointedly at Kennedy’s listing suitcase. “It’s the only hotel in town. Quit wasting my time. Keep your picture to yourself. Take my advice or don’t.” Her smile was brittle as she stepped away from the table and headed to claim a coffee pot and freshen some cups. Her orthopedic sneakers squeaked on the tile with every step.