Desolation

“Will do,” said Brenda. “Eggs sunny side up or scrambled?”

“Scrambled.”

“Coffee or juice?”

Had she really been about to jump up and rip the waitress’s face off, just because of her tone of voice? She felt amazingly stupid right now.

“Juice,” she said. “Thank you. Oh, and …” Amber held up her hands. “I had an accident.”

“So I see.”

She gave Brenda a weak smile. “Would it be possible to have my breakfast, like, cut into smaller pieces?”

“You want it all chopped up?”

“Yes, please. Well, besides the egg. Because that’ll be scrambled.”

“Okay,” Brenda said dubiously. “Might cost you a little more, though.”

Amber frowned. “To cut it up?”

“It’s an unusual requirement.”

“But it’ll only take ten seconds.”

The waitress shrugged. “We’ll see if the cook is comfortable doing it. Will that be all?”

Amber hesitated. “Yes.”

Brenda nodded, and moved away as an old man came in.

“Hey there, Brenda,” he said.

Brenda smiled for the first time. “Good morning, Mr Tomlinson. How are you?”

“I’m doing good, thanks,” said Tomlinson. “And you?”

“Doing fine,” said Brenda. “Nice weather we’re having.”

“It is. It is nice weather.”

“Is it the usual, Mr Tomlinson?”

“Sorry?”

“The usual?”

“Oh yes, the usual. Ham on rye with mustard.”

“With the crusts cut off.”

“Just go ahead and cut them crusts off, you betcha.”

“You got it.”

The moment Brenda turned away from him to deliver the order, her smile was gone, and Amber watched as Tomlinson’s own smile slowly faded. He stood there, staring into space. Amber’s mom had once said something about friends and fake smiles, but that was Amber’s mom, so Amber banished the memory from her mind.

A woman came in behind Tomlinson and the smile suddenly reappeared as he turned.

“Morning, Jackie,” he said.

“Morning, Brett,” Jackie said. “Good weather for fishing.”

“It is.”

“Getting your usual?”

“Yes, I am. Ham on rye with mustard, with the crusts cut off. Hey, how’s little Everett doing?”

“He’s doing fine,” said Jackie. “He had a bad cough that went on for a few days. I thought it might be a chest infection, but it cleared up on its own.”

“I heard that,” Tomlinson said, nodding. “I heard he had a cough.”

Brenda arrived back, handed Tomlinson a brown paper bag. “Here you go, Mr Tomlinson. Your usual.”

“Much obliged, Brenda,” Tomlinson said, handing over the exact change. He tipped his hat to them both. “You have a good day now, ladies.”

They smiled at him and he walked out, and then they turned those smiles on each other.

“How you doing today, Jackie?” Brenda asked. “How’s that boy of yours?”

“He’s good,” Jackie said. “He had a cough, but it cleared up. You all set for Book Club tonight?”

“I am,” Brenda said. “What did you think of it?”

“A little racier than what I’m used to,” Jackie said. “Did you like it?”

“I thought it was fine. Racy, like you said.”

“Maybe too racy?”

“Probably too racy. What can I get for you?”

“Just a coffee, thanks. In one of those cardboard cups.”

“To go?”

“To go, yes. With cream and sugar.”