The Boys Down South by Abbi Glines
31
scarlet
The apple cobbler wasn’t tart enough, the collards needed more salt, but the new warm potato salad was a hit. That could be because the Lions Club wasn’t eating today. It was almost as if the majority of customers knew my day was shitty and I needed them to go easy on me. The complaints about the cobbler, well… I had to agree with them. It was not Netty’s best. Once you’ve had her cobbler, you expect delicious.
The two old men who complained about the collards more than likely needed less salt in their life anyway. The majority had been easy. A few had made me smile with their comments. Ethel had yelled across the restaurant, asking Netty or Jim to bring her something or fix something. She had no inside voice.
It was Diesel who made the day difficult. He kept watching me like he expected me to burst into tears at any moment. He studied me. His smile rarely there. I hadn’t seen one dimple all day. Which should be reason to celebrate. He normally used his dimples as a way to get better tips. They worked better than any service I could render.
“Take the two old bastards at table five some of this blueberry cobbler and tell them it’s on the house,” Ethel told me, not even trying to whisper. “And here are some fresh sugar cookies for those sweet babies at table seven. They’re headed home from vacation and need a treat to brighten their day.”
I took the tray from her and went to the table with George and Norman. George owned the Feed and Seed across the street. Norman was retired from the ministry. They met here for lunch most days. “Ethel wanted the both of you to have a slice of Netty’s cobbler. It’s really good today,” I assured them.
Norman smiled. “Well thank you, Scarlet.”
“She called us, bastards. I heard her. The evil witch,” George said, picking up his fork. “Looks delicious.”
Norman only chuckled then took a bite of the cobbler and finished it up with a sound of appreciation. “Netty outdid herself.”
“She better have after screwing up the apple pie,” George replied.
“You two enjoy,” I said to them as I made my way over to the next table. It was a family from Tennessee. They had twin girls who were five years old and sad their beach vacation was over.
“Mrs. Ethel wanted you two to have these. She said they make the traveling back home easier.” I placed a cookie in front of each freckle-faced redhead.
The talkative one looked up at me. Her smile was missing a front tooth. But only one so far. “I like your hair. I wish mine looked like yours.”
Her hair was a bright orange. I couldn’t be sure it would ever darken, but she was adorable anyway. Mine had been that color once. It had turned into this by the time I was eight though. Red hair can be tricky. “I think yours is beautiful like this. As are you. Both of you.”
That reply got big smiles from both girls. The other one who was more shy was missing both of her front teeth. The freckles, I knew all too well about the summer sun causing those. The two of them would be a perfect summer picture.
“Thank you!” they said in unison. Then their mother thanked me too. I nodded and headed back to the kitchen. Diesel was standing there watching me yet again. His arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face.
“You need to take your break. I can handle the rest of the lunch crowd. It’s thinning out anyway.”
I wasn’t hungry. I shook my head. “I don’t need a break. I can wait until three.”
“That’s in twenty minutes. Go on now.”
“No, Diesel. I don’t need to,” I replied firmly. He wasn’t my boss. I didn’t need his concern. Or his advice.
“You didn’t eat breakfast either,” he continued.
I wasn’t going to argue with him right here in front of the entire dining room. Instead, I walked past him and into the kitchen. The tea was getting low and we wouldn’t completely thin out until three thirty. I had planned on making more once I had my tables taken care of.
“I’ve seen his kind. He’s an asshole. You’re better than that.”
I froze, my hand on the tea bags I had picked up, and I took a deep breath before moving again. This was not the time to lose my temper on Diesel. I had already done that once today. Ethel had forgiven me. I needed him to now back off and let me work.
“Diesel, I’ve known Bray most of my life. There is nothing I do not know about him. You, however, have known me a couple weeks. You’ve briefly met Bray. So please, back off. Shut up. Go do your job and let me do mine.”
That was kind enough, I thought. Not too bossy. Not too angry. Just to the point.
“Girl is right, boy. Stay out of her business. She ain’t asking you for any advice. Table six just left. Go bus it,” Ethel said behind me.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Saying thank you to Ethel for getting rid of her nephew seemed a little rude, so I went about making the pitcher of tea like I had planned.
“He means well. He has a protective streak when he cares about someone. You made it onto that list. I’m afraid he cares too much. I’ve seen you barely able to smile today. The sadness in your eyes tells me that your heart is hurting. Which means it’s taken. He’ll accept it eventually.”
I simply nodded as I turned to look at her. I didn’t have to be told Diesel liked me. No guy would be that involved in my moods and life if he didn’t. But Ethel was right. My heart was hurting. But even if I didn’t love Bray, I wouldn’t ever be able to love Diesel. He was too happy. There was no darkness there and he’d been in prison. Even that hadn’t brought him down. He made me laugh and smile when I needed it but that never took away what was underneath. And I knew it was something he would never be able to live with. It was too twisted.
“Thanks for understanding,” I told her.
She chuckled. “We are females with a lot going on in our lives. These men don’t get it. We gotta stick together,” she winked as she finished. Then she walked off with a pat on my shoulder. “You make some fine sweet tea, girl.”
I wanted to go find a quiet place and check my phone for calls or texts. Then maybe cry a little. Not enough to make my face red and blotchy but to get some of the pain out.
Bray was a balm to my soul. He had no idea. But he was. Being near him made the other hurt less. Often it faded away. In its place came happiness. Excitement. Going to Dixie’s wedding might possibly have been the worst thing I’d ever done. Because now I was reminded how good it felt to be in his arms, and I would have to get over it again.
