Page 15 of Diners, Damsels & Wolves

“No,” Clarissa admitted. “I haven’t for a while now.”

“And I’m not working at the office anymore, am I?”

“No.” Clarissa stared at her feet.

“How long?”

“I started working full time at the diner about seven years ago.”

Rachel braced herself against the counter, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Seven …” Rachel swallowed. “You’re too young, Claire. This isn’t right. When my brother—when your parents died, I took you in. I swore to take care of you. It shouldn’t be like this. Claire … You need to put me in a home.”

“No!” Anger surged through her. “First off, if you think I have the money to put you someplace remotely nice, then you clearly need to have another look around this place.”

“We could figure something—”

“NO. Do you understand me, no. You’re all I have. Sick or not, you’re my family. What am I supposed to do without you? Where would I go?” Anger gave way to hot tears. “You’re all I have, don’t you leave me too. If it weren’t for the photos, I wouldn’t even know what Mom and Dad looked like. You’re all I have.”

Rachel pulled her into a fierce hug, letting her cry until her tears dried up.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel whispered. “I just want what’s best for you. I love you, Claire.”

“I love you too, aunty.”

“Come, no more tears, our dinners are getting cold.” She kissed her forehead then lifted her face up, wiping away the tears. “Chin up, girly, and you’ll go far.”

They ate in silence. Rachel put the fuller plate in front of Clarissa. She didn’t protest. With their plates in the sink, they sat together on the sofa, watching old movies. Clarissa laid her head on Rachel’s shoulder, her eyes drooping.

These were her favorite days. The few hours when Rachel mercifully returned to her. Clarissa cherished each second.

Four

Clarissa

Elbow deep in sanitizer, Clarissa reached into the glass pie tower. On the tips of her toes, she jammed the cleaning cloth into every nook and cranny.

When they’d sold the last fresh pie that afternoon, she seized her opportunity to clean it. She’d rolled the sleeves of her turtleneck past her elbows, exposing the end of the burns on her left arm, but she didn’t care. Except for the workers, Jeff and Eugene were the only ones there.

“I think you got it.” Sylvia came up behind her, making her jump and bonk her head. “Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you, again. Where is your head today?”

“Nowhere, I’m just tired.” She took a clean cloth and started drying off the shelves.

In truth, she’d been looking out the corner of her eye for him all morning. It was stupid. She had no indication the good Samaritan would return today. Furthermore, she had no reason to want him to return. He was nothing more than a stranger she encountered once. Nothing more, nothing less. She’d probably never see him again.

It was best this way. She was no good at relationships, and she didn’t have room for one now anyways. All her energy and money had to go into taking care of Rachel.

“I think it’s good,” Sylvia pressed. “You should go in the back and clean up, you smell like bleach.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Clarissa said. Sylvia ushered her into the kitchens as the front door jingled.

Clarissa didn’t look to see who it was. Instead, she dumped the bucket and went straight to the employee washroom. She scrubbed her hands three times, washed her face, and spritzed her perfume.

There, she should be less bleachy now. As Clarissa went back into the dining room, Sylvia bounced up to her.

“You have someone in your section,” she said. “I already gave him a menu.”

Him? As in one him, not a group? Peeking over Sylvia’s shoulder, Clarissa blushed.