Nearly Broken (2 page)

Curious of the age
difference between me and my newfound twin, I scanned the flyer. Born
September 17, 1993. She’d turn twenty later this year, just
four months before me.

“Sorry,”
I soothed, laying the sheet of paper on the counter, though not
necessarily returning it, as I still felt the urge to study it.
Claire’s eyes were so full of life. You could tell just by
looking at her that she was incredibly happy, her smile bursting from
seam to seam. I wondered what she was looking at, who was physically
standing behind the camera that could invoke such a pleasurable
smile.

There’d never
been anyone in my life that lit up my eyes like that. And it saddened
me a little because I doubted I’d ever get to have that now,
not when I may have to up and leave as early as tomorrow. And I
suddenly felt a little jealous of Claire. Like I was the bad twin,
doomed to scavenge in the shadows of her life. But then I realized
how royally screwed we’d both been. We’d both gone
missing at one point, but Claire had one thing I didn’t.
Someone to notice. So why was I the one still here and she the one
still gone?

“I’ve
never even been to Seattle, let alone lived there. I’m from
South Cali, and I have my own parents.”

Thea nodded solemnly,
sucking on the corner of her bottom lip. Curiosity was getting the
best of me. I mean, seriously, what were the odds of this ever
happening?

I fidgeted nervously.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to her?”

To
Claire
.

Thea sighed, her eyes
falling to the mug with sadness, and I began to feel like an absolute
bitch for prying. I was about to say
never mind
but she found
her voice before I did. “No one knows for sure. She was a
senior in high school, on her way to class one morning. Best we can
tell, her car got hit from behind and she pulled off to the side. But
she never called anyone for help, and by the time her car was found
abandoned, the other car was long gone. She just vanished.”

I imagined that answer
was memorized and had probably been delivered so many times it made
Thea feel lifeless and emotionless inside. She certainly looked that
way. Eying the stack of flyers in her bag, I expected she’d
been at this all day, driving from town to town giving them out.
Still looking after all this time.

Two years, five
months, twelve days since Claire went missing.

Six months before
me.

Had I been her
replacement?

“That’s
awful. Never knowing one way or the other…” Instinct
told me to lightly cover her hand and gently squeeze.

Thea nodded, looking
up at me again, a pathetic half smile on her face. “You’re
sure there’s no way you’re Claire?”

Was it so wrong for
her to hope? Though statistics would probably say Claire was already
gone from this world, there was always the chance she’d been
kept alive.

Like I was.

Though I begged for
death every day. Maybe Claire found a way to end her misery.

Was she dead the
moment that car came up behind her, maybe intentionally hitting her
to get her out and alone? Or was she used,
spoiled
, before
meeting her untimely demise? I found it hard to believe that the
vibrant girl in the picture before me simply walked away. Not when
she had someone to smile for – a smile like
that
was
reserved for someone special. She was loved, and possibly
in love
herself.

No, Claire did not
simply walk away. She was forced to go.
Taken
.

Like me…

My lips pressed into a
straight line as my head shook. “Wish I was. I always wanted
siblings growing up, but my mom couldn’t have any more after
me. I do hope you find her though. Just keep looking. Tomorrow may be
the day she needs you most.”

“We’ll
always look for Claire. She was the heart and soul of our family. We
just haven’t been the same without her.” Thea’s
hand went to cover her mouth, but it was her eyes that needed
tending, as they glistened with fresh fluid on the verge of spilling.

I hated the way she
couldn’t look at me anymore, like it pained her to see her
sister’s look-a-like alive and well while Claire was possibly
neither of those things.
If she only knew what I had to do to be
here today…

Fire billowed on
the ceiling, reaching down, down, down…

Again I tugged on my
sleeves.

“Can I keep
this?” I asked softly, drumming my fingers atop the flyer to
draw Thea’s attention from the black hole she was on the verge
of falling into. “I don’t want to put it on the window or
anything, because you’d just get calls about me. But I could
place it on the bulletin board in the back and my co-workers and I
could keep our eyes open for her.”

“Thank you,”
she whimpered, and I saw a tear land in her coffee, initiating a
glistening ripple that bounced against its ceramic prison.

I felt pity for
Claire, and heartache. Because I had a pretty good idea what happened
to her. But even more, I feared telling Thea what I believed may have
been her sister’s fate.

A few minutes before
four o’clock, I walked the windows in front of Breenie’s
Diner, scanning its occupants for a face I hoped to never see again.
Once I determined the all-clear, I went inside. As always, the dinner
rush had already begun and would continue to be heavy through eight.
Of course, I used the word
heavy
lightly, since the diner only
held ten tables: five booths and five four-tops. Saying hello to
those I recognized, I made my way to the back and stuffed my purse in
the cabinet next to Darla’s and Tish’s.

“Megan. Good,
you’re early,” Paul said from the oversized closet he
used for his office. He stood from his chair, but didn’t come
out, so I moved to lean against the door frame. As he shuffled
through the papers on his desk, he added, “Our new cook started
today so I’ll need to introduce you.”

“New cook?”
I asked, turning and scanning the kitchen. There actually was an
extra body in the kitchen, but I couldn’t see anything more
than the plain gray shirt, most likely belonging to a guy. The bad
part about working in a kitchen this small was that you had to stuff
and cram and hang as much as possible, so you lost a lot of
visibility. “I didn’t know you were even looking.”

“Yeah, well,
Darla’s been on me for awhile now to get off the night shift.
She’s tired of working opposite schedules and no way in hell
she’s going to work until two in the morning with me. So…”

“New cook. Got
it.” Quite frankly, I was surprised the business could afford
it. My attention turned again to the new guy, but he hadn’t
moved from that particular spot, hidden well in the corner cooking
something on the grill. “So are you training him tonight?”

For some reason, Paul
found that amusing and chuckled before saying, “Nah. He’s
good to go. He’s been here since noon familiarizing himself
with the menu.”

Because our menu was
so
complicated.

“He’s got
a basic idea of what to do for closing, so just follow him and make
sure it all gets done properly.”

“Did you do a
background check on him?” I tried to ask it casually, but the
thought of working with a guy all by myself concerned me a little.
Especially if the guy was a drifter that could up and disappear like
it was nothing.

“I did. He
checks out, and his previous employer said nothing but good things
about him. Trust me, I wouldn’t leave you alone with anyone I
didn’t feel comfortable with.” Feeling a little less
anxious, I nodded my head. Paul finally found what he was digging
for, a set of keys that he dropped into his jacket pocket. “Come
on. I’ll introduce you.”

I stepped back and
allowed him to pass, then followed behind as he made his way to the
corner of the small kitchen. “Nick,” Paul called. Then he
pointed backwards over his shoulder using his thumb, stating, “This
is your waitress, Megan.”

Paul had to step
sideways just so Nick and I could actually see each other. I was sure
the rest of him was nice to look at, but what demanded my attention
were the bright green eyes that peeked out beneath the rim of his
black baseball cap. My boring brown pair felt downright muddy next to
the beauty of his. “Hi,” I said, smiling, keeping my lips
squeezed tight.

“Hey,” he
replied, cocking his head upward once.

Then silence ensued.
Somewhat uncomfortable silence.

Luckily, Paul spoke
out. “Well, you two should be just fine.” Turning to
Nick, he added, “If you can’t find anything, just ask
Megan. She’s been here long enough to know where everything
is.”

“Yes, sir,”
Nick answered, surprising me with his formality. I had serious doubts
Paul had ever been called
Sir
his entire life.

Then Paul squeezed
past me, unavoidably rubbing his arm against my shoulder in the tight
space. Nick and I just sort of stared awkwardly with half smiles
until I said, “Well, I’ll just be over there if you need
me.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I made my way to the
opposite corner to roll enough silverware into paper napkins to get
me through the night. Then I helped Darla and Tish by refilling
drinks and busing tables so I could begin picking up the new
customers in Darla’s section. She was ecstatic to be leaving
the restaurant with Paul at the same time for once, and rushed out of
here without really saying goodbye or finishing up her last two
checks. I couldn’t be mad at her though. Not when she was
flashing the happiest expression I’d ever seen on her face.

Tish and Juan, our day
cook, left at six, leaving Nick and me to contend with all the tables
for the rest of the night. If he had put out any of the dinners yet,
I hadn’t noticed, so I was curious to see if I’d have to
send anything back.

When I picked up his
first official order, I was stunned into silence, looking down on the
most beautiful display I think one could make with chicken fried
chicken, mashed potatoes and pot fried corn. The potatoes were
perfect, creamy with zero lumps, drizzled with gravy in a spiraled
circle on top and sprinkled with minced herbs. The corn nibblets had
some type of garnish that included finely chopped red and green bell
peppers and a little shredded cheese. And the chicken? Perfectly
browned.

“Something
wrong?” he asked, clearly trying to suppress a smile.

“Um…”
I muttered. “Not at all. Looks good.”

I delivered it to
Earl, the beefy, grungy man that worked under cars all day, and he
looked at me like I was crazy. He tried to see who the new cook was,
probably to call him high-falootin, but Nick was out of view. Didn’t
matter though, because when I came back five minutes later, he
couldn’t stop raving about the food and ordered another side of
the mashed potatoes.

And that was just the
beginning. The most popular item ordered at the diner was the
hamburger. Nick had reformed the thin beef patties so they were thick
and juicy, with additional herbs and seasoning that you could
actually see and taste when you bit into it. Pickles and onions were
cut with a wavy knife, iceberg lettuce was replaced with spinach. And
the French fries? Tossed in some kind of Cajun seasoning to give it
some actual flavor.

Even the Salisbury
steak, fried catfish and BBQ sandwich looked like masterpieces. And
with each plate I had to pull from the food line, another rave review
came from the customer, and Nick’s smile got smugger and
smugger. When all the dinners had been delivered and the remaining
customers began trickling out the door, I had to ask.

Leaning over the
stainless steel pass-through to the kitchen, I asked, “Nick,
what are you doing here?”

He was just off to the
side, wiping down the counters for spilled food. “I thought
that was obvious. I’m cooking,” he explained
matter-of-factly.

“I mean, why
aren’t you cooking in a restaurant?”

He adjusted his
baseball cap, sweeping his fingers back through his hair, and I got a
glimpse of the wavy one-inch locks underneath, shaded a soft, woodsy
sort of brown. It went really well with the honey beige shade of his
skin and emerald green eyes. “Last time I checked, this
was
a restaurant,” he jested.

I narrowed my eyes.
“
Oh
… So you’re one of
those
guys.”

Amused, he released a
weak chuckle. “What guys?” he asked carefully.

“Difficult.”

His head slightly
bobbed side to side a few times, his eyes admitting the truth behind
my observation. “My last girlfriend concurs.”

“Mmm-hmm,”
I mumbled with closed lips in a teasing manner.

Now that the diner had
cleared, I returned to my tables to begin busing. It was almost nine,
and rationally speaking, I only expected about five more locals for
the rest of the night. Any other customers would most likely just be
traveling through.