This was Renee, the girl who once told him she was going to own a business, travel the world, and never settle for less. But here she was, settling for less every single day. And he couldn’t stop wondering what had happened to her dreams. Matthew stayed in that booth longer than he meant to. He watched Renee work the room like she’d been doing it forever, balancing plates, dodging a kid running between tables, laughing at an old man’s joke she probably heard a hundred times before, but there were cracks in the act.
When she thought no one was looking, her smile faded. She’d paused to rub her wrist like it hurt. She’d stare out the front window for just a moment too long before forcing herself back into motion. When the crowd thinned, she came back over leaning against the booth’s edge. “You still in touch with anyone from back home?” she asked. “Not really,” he said. “Life got busy.” “Yeah, same here. ” Her gaze dropped to the floor for a second.
“Except busy looks a little different for me.” He didn’t miss the edge in her voice. “You want to talk about it?” She hesitated then shook her head. “Not here, not with Earl listening.” She tilted her chin toward the cook in the back who was clearly trying to look busy while leaning half out the kitchen window to eavesdrop. Matthew grinned slightly. “You free after your shift?” Her eyes darted toward the clock. “If I can get someone to cover the last hour, maybe, but” she trailed off biting her lip.
“Why? What’s this about?” “Just catching up,” he said, but he knew that wasn’t the whole truth. He wanted to know why she was here, what had happened between their teenage dreams and this diner. Before she could respond, a man in a stained trucker cap waved his empty coffee mug in the air. “Renee, refill!” She sighed. “Story of my life.” As she walked away, Matthew noticed the limp in her step, subtle but there. Something told him her life had been harder than she was letting on, but he had no idea just how deep that hardship went until she sat across from him later and told him everything.
The diner was nearly empty by the time Renee slid into the booth across from Matthew again, this time without her apron. Her hair was down now, framing her face, and she looked a little less like the waitress everyone ordered around and a little more like the girl he remembered. “I’ve got 30 minutes before my relief shows up,” she said. “You wanted to talk. So, talk.” Matthew leaned forward. I wanted to see how you’ve been, really been. She gave a small humorless laugh.
