I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or insulted. Fortunately I was saved by issuing any kind of response when a loud clap of thunder rattled the building again. “Looks like the storm is here to stay,” I said.
Justin nodded. “Which means you need a ride, right? I know you. You’re the adventurous type. No way you drove here when it was so gorgeous out this morning. So how about it?” he asked. “Want the most irresistible, good-looking guy in town to escort you safely to your front door?”
When I didn’t respond right away, he reached for my hand. The gesture felt good, familiar. “Please, Denise. I think we need to talk.”
I hesitated only briefly before answering. “I think we do too,” I said. There was a surprising eagerness in my voice I couldn’t ignore. The truth was I had been hoping I’d get the chance to see Justin again. Rumor had it that he had accepted the coaching position at Clayfield High. Memories of the two of us confronted me all over again. If there was a chance we could work out our problems, didn’t we owe it to ourselves to try? After all, it had been five years. We’d both grown up.
There was also the fact that I wasn’t keen on the idea of walking home alone in the storm.
Justin’s gaze softened. “Good,” he said, obviously taking my hesitation as a yes. “Then I will have some of that coffee. It will take the chill off.” He shivered as if to make his point.
I served Justin, then returned to table twelve with the coffee pot where the gangster-type gentleman had sat earlier. The seat was vacant. The pie had hardly been touched, and the coffee was almost to the rim. I sat the pot down, and started to clear the dishes when something beneath the table caught my attention. I bent down to my knees and retrieved a black leather wallet from the grimy floor.
“Lose something, Miss Thomas?”
Even before he spoke, I noticed Mr. Winslow’s brightly polished shoes from my awkward position. As gracefully as possible, I backed away, bumping my head on the table when I tried to stand. “I was just getting this wallet the customer left behind,” I explained. I massaged the bump on my head, wondering if it had left a bruise. I finally straightened, meeting my boss’s five foot nine inch frame with my own equally impressive height. I showed him the wallet I had found.
He appeared uninterested. “Just look inside for some identification,” he said. “Then you can phone him and let him know it’s here.”
“But…” I started to issue a protest, then decided against it. It was none of my concern whether the man paid his bill when he left. Maybe he was a friend of Heather’s and she let him slip by. Mr. Winslow walked away, his fingers twisting nervously behind his back.
Strange little man, I thought.
After returning the coffeepot to the beverage station, I quickly rinsed it out and shut off the burner. At the cashier’s counter, I started to reach for the telephone, when Heather’s hand stopped me. “No personal calls,” she said.
I slid her hand from the receiver and picked it up. “It’s not personal,” I told her, offering no further explanation. Avoiding her curious stare, I made a mental note of the name on the driver’s license and dialed information. “Could I have the number for a Michael Black on Benton Street in Clayfield, Missouri, please?” I asked when the operator came on the line.
I glanced at Heather to see if the name registered with her. She made no indication that she recognized the name.
“Thank you,” I said to the operator after she recited the number.
I jotted the information on a sticky note and dialed. After several unanswered rings, I gave up and started to hand the wallet over to Heather.
“Miss Thomas, were you able to reach the owner of that wallet?” Mr. Winslow’s voice startled me even though I should have been used to his sudden appearances. Sometimes I wondered if those thin, round glasses he always wore sent out radar signals if there was something to report.
“There’s no one home,” I answered. “I’ll just leave it with Heather in case he returns for it.”
Apparently, my plan didn’t set well with my boss. He shook his head. “We’re getting ready to close for the night. If he lives close by, maybe you could just drop it off on your way to work in the morning.”
His suggestion surprised me. “Well, actually, it’s just around the corner from me, but won’t that be too early to disturb him? I work at seven tomorrow,” I reminded him.
“More than likely, he’ll be getting ready for work himself. Since you obviously have his license, I’m sure he won’t mind the intrusion. Besides, it will be good customer service if you return it to him in person.”
I didn’t like his idea. Six o’clock came early enough, barely allowing me sufficient time to shower and dress for work. Now I would have to make a stop along the way. Surely someone would notice their wallet was missing once they returned home, I thought. But I decided not to argue.
I tucked the wallet into my apron pocket just moments before Justin appeared at my side.
“Are you about ready to leave?” he asked.
“I think so.” I glanced around the empty diner. “Looks like we’re done here.” I reached over and flipped the closed sign on the front door.
Justin placed the money for his coffee on the counter and reached for his raincoat. “Nice to see you again,” he said to Heather. To me he said, “You wait here while I bring the car closer. There’s no reason why both of us should get drenched.”
He pulled his hood up over his head, pushed the front door open, then dashed across the flooded parking lot, his long jacket blowing in the breeze like a bandit fleeing from a crime scene.
I waited near the register in awkward silence while Heather pulled the cash from the drawer and zipped it into a bank bag. “A good day?” I asked. It was a lame question since I already knew the answer. Winslow’s Diner didn’t draw big customers. I assumed it was because Harry Winslow catered mostly to the high school age palates. I always wondered why my boss didn’t add a bit more variety to his menu. But since I didn’t plan to stick around long, my only concern was that it remained open long enough for me to find a more suitable position.
Justin’s blue Malibu appeared at the diner’s entrance. I untied my apron and used it as a shield against the pelting rain. “See you tomorrow,” I shouted to Heather before racing out the door. Heather always stayed later to help close up the diner. I wondered why but never asked. I was just thankful I didn’t have to stay and help.
Justin reached across his seat and threw open the passenger door. I ducked inside and pulled the door closed, then removed the dripping apron from my head. The thin material had done nothing to protect me from the rain. I tossed the wet fabric into the floorboard, then hand-combed my damp hair from my face.
“Something fell out of your apron.” Justin reached down to the floorboard and retrieved Mr. Black’s wallet.
I took it from his hand and shook the water from it. “I’m glad I didn’t lose that,” I said. “I need to return this to the owner on my way to work in the morning.”
Justin frowned. “Wouldn’t it be easier if he came back to the diner for it?”
“That’s what I suggested, but Winslow wanted me to return it. I tried calling, but no one was home. Besides, if I drop it off, he won’t have to wait until the diner reopens. He may not even realize it’s missing until he needs it again. He just lives around the corner from me, so I’ll drop it off on the way to work in the morning.”
“Why don’t you let me return it for you,” Justin suggested. “I can drop if off on my way home. I’m staying with my parents until I find a place of my own.”
“I already told you, he’s not home.”
“Then I’ll get up early and take it to him in the morning,” he offered again. “That way you won’t have to go out of your way in the morning.”
I flashed him a knowing smile. “I remember how much you enjoy sleeping late,” I said. “I can be there just before seven. Hopefully he won’t even have left for work.”
Justin’s mouth curved into a grin. His thick eyebrows shifted.
“What?” I demanded.
“You’re always looking for excitement, aren’t you?”
I slumped back against the seat, crossing my arms over my chest. The reason for our breakup was becoming clear again. Justin was just as bad as my parents when it came to my choice of professions.
“I’d hardly call returning a wallet cause for excitement,” I answered sharply. I diverted my gaze out the window avoiding his probing stare.
Justin eased the car into gear and changed the subject. “So how did you wind up working at Winslow’s Diner of all places?”
I sighed heavily before answering. My gaze remained straight. “Believe me, it wasn’t what I had in mind.”
“I’m listening,” he said. He pulled away from the curb. A gust of wind rattled the small car, sending torrents of rain splashing against the windows. Justin rubbed a small circle of fog from the windshield and peered anxiously outside.
I straightened in the seat and braced myself against the deadly lightning that lit up the inside of the car. “I was supposed to go to work with my uncle Bob as a private investigator,” I finally answered. “But that fell through at the last minute when my parents talked him out of hiring me. Like I said, my parents have the same opinion of women’s positions in the work force as you do.”
Justin rolled his eyes. “Come on, Denise,” he pleaded. “Let’s don’t get started on that again.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I agreed, fighting back tears. “We should just accept the fact that we weren’t meant to be together and get on with our lives.”
“But there’s no reason we still can’t be friends? Is that what you mean?” He sounded like a wounded animal.
I reached for my wet apron and began fumbling with the tie strings. “Why did you come back to Clayfield?” I asked. “Surely there must be more exciting coaching opportunities for you somewhere else.”
“I’m not the one looking for excitement,” he answered. His insinuation jolted me like a slap in the face. “I like it here. I like the small town living.”
“I like it too, Justin,” I answered truthfully. I looked him squarely in the eye. “It’s not the town I object to. It’s the lack of employment opportunities the town offers.”
“I can’t argue that point,” he agreed. “I was lucky to get the coaching job for Clayfield High. I’m hoping to start apartment hunting as soon as possible.” He rubbed another circle of fog from the windshield, then eased the car into my parents’ driveway. Placing the gear into park, he let the engine idle while he turned to face me. “Are you sure you’ll be all right here by yourself in this storm?” He took my hand in his. “I know your parents are vacationing in Florida right now.”
I smiled. “Are you kidding? There’s a scary movie on the late show tonight. This is the perfect weather for a murder mystery.”
He shook his head and laughed out loud. “You haven’t changed a bit,” he said.
“No, I haven’t,” I said pointedly. I jerked my hand back and reached for the door handle. “The job at Winslow’s Diner is merely a temporary setback. I have every intention of becoming involved in some type of law enforcement career. If Uncle Bob won’t change his mind and hire me as his assistant, then I’ll find another position somewhere else.”
I turned back to face him and our eyes held for an awkward moment before Justin finally broke the silence. “At least let me walk you to your door,” he offered.
“Don’t bother.” I started to open the door, but Justin leaned over and pulled me back. Our gazes held for a moment before he gently kissed me on the lips.
“I really have missed you,” he said softly, his eyes searching my reaction.
I couldn’t ignore the irregular beat of my heart. “I’ve missed you too,” I answered honestly.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think, Denise,” he said. “About us,” he added, after a moment’s hesitation. “Look, I know we have some problems to work out. But I’d really like to try and make our relationship work. I think we’re worth fighting for.”
My breathing increased, making me lightheaded. “I’d like to try too,” I whispered, realizing I meant it. I just wanted to have Justin, as well as a career of my choice. Why should that be so difficult?
Justin’s face relaxed. “Good,” he said. “How about we get together tomorrow after you get off work? We could go on a picnic, just the two of us. Someplace where we can be alone and talk.”
“I’d like that,” I admitted. I reached for the door.
Keys in my fingertips, I raced for the front door, while the car idled in the driveway. The beam from the headlights as my guide, I unlocked the front door of my parents’ house. Once inside, I waved good-bye to Justin, then waited until his car backed out of sight. I closed the door and secured the lock.
In my room, I exchanged my wet pink uniform for a comfortable ankle-length lightweight gown. After running a quick brush through my damp hair, I entered the kitchen and placed a bag of popcorn into the microwave. When the appliance beeped, I reached for a bowl, dumped the contents inside, then curled up on the living room sofa with the remote control. Ear splitting crashes of thunder brought shivers to my arms. I snuggled deeper into the plush sofa despite the warm temperatures. I flipped the remote control to the movie channel and lifted a handful of popcorn to my lips.
The eerie sound of music signaled the beginning of the movie. I reached for the lacy afghan on the back of the sofa and switched off the overhead light. Brilliant flashes of lightning lit up the room. Booming thunder rattled the house. Knees under my chin, I pulled the afghan up around my shoulders and nestled against the back of the couch.
What a perfect night for a murder mystery.
I was still on the sofa when I awakened the next morning. As I stretched my arms overhead and yawned, my body collided with the carpeted floor. Remnants of popcorn spewed across the room.
I untangled my legs from the cocooned blanket. An infomercial was on the television trying to sell me the newest thing in exercise equipment guaranteed to help me lose inches in just two weeks.
I must have dozed off shortly after the movie started. As I often did, I’d figured out the ending early on, quickly losing interest in the final hour. I maneuvered my feet into soft slippers, then felt my way to the window. A full moon lit the room in an eerie glow as I raised the blinds.