The diner they found was only half a mile from the airport. By the time they pulled up, Drake said they should just get something in the terminal with how close they already were. But Lulu was insistent. She took him by the hand, leading him up the ramp and away from the rideshare, saying, “Nothing is ever as good as a real Greek Diner.” She even held the door for him.
Drake rolled his eyes and asked for a table for two.
“Let’s eat at the counter!” Lulu said. “It’s always faster.”
The waitress, who was almost a walking cliché with the name tag that said “Judy”, a bright red dress under a white apron, and a cigarette on her ear, raised an eyebrow at Lulu. “God bless if you’re try’na rush through this weather. Might as well spend the day with us.” She jerked her thumb at a sign next to the welcome podium that read “Bingo - Noon to two”. She then added, “It gets a little rowdy if that’s your thing.”
Lulu was involuntarily nodding, but Drake looked back out the door. The buildings on the other side of the road were almost totally blocked out by the falling snow. He knew then that there was no real need to rush. There was no way that they’d be able to get in the air, even if there was a vacant seat on the next flight headed in New York’s general direction. But he had to try.
“We’re not into Bingo,” he told Judy the waitress.
“Speak for yourself,” Lulu said with some humor returning to her voice.
“Counter’s fine,” Drake added.
Judy led them over to the counter and placed menus in front of them. “Something to drink?”
Drake didn’t look up when he spoke. He was busy swapping the places of his fork and knife on the placemat. “Coffee. Black’s fine.”
“And you, miss?”
“Coffee, but leave room for cream? And can I get a stack of silver dollar pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream?” Lulu slid the menu back across the counter.
Judy stretched out her jaw, then retrieved a notepad and pencil from her apron. “Still gonna rush, huh?”
She shook her head with a smile. “Just know what I like.”
The waitress scribbled Lulu’s order, then asked Drake, “You know what you want?”
Drake thumbed through the menu. “Can I get a lox and onion omelet, with just a small squirt of ketchup on the side, with a fruit bowl side and an English muffin?”
“You wanna just stick with Tom’s Special?” Judy asked, somewhere between helpful and too tired to care so early in the morning.
“What’s in that?”
“Just what you asked for, hun. ‘Cept it’s a regular omelet, but we can throw in the onion if’ya want. And it’s a buck cheaper.” She held out her hand for his menu.
“Yeah, that’ll be good. Thanks.”
“We’ll have that right out for ya.” Judy tore the order from the notepad and slid it through the window to the kitchen, then made her way to the coffee machine.
Lulu leaned on her fist, looking over at Drake while they waited. He mostly stared straight, tapping the heel of his foot against the support ring of the counter chairs, and glanced at the frosted windows when the roaring of a plane engine passed overhead.
“Why’d you do that with your fork?” Lulu asked.
“Do what?”
“You switched them. You OCD or something?”
“No, I just like things to be the right way. Forks go on the left on top of the napkin; knives and spoons go on the right with the cup. Didn’t you ever have a summer job at a restaurant in high school?”
“Sounds OCD.”
“It’s just about professionalism. If a restaurant doesn’t know how to set a placemat, what does that say about their food?”
Judy came back with their coffee just as he proposed his question, but didn’t say anything about it. However, both Drake and Lulu saw the offended look on her face.
“Might wanna check your omelet for a loogie,” Lulu chuckled, and reached over to rotate the knife on Drake’s placemat.
“What are you doing?” he asked, lifting his black coffee.
“Nothin’,” she said innocently, then pulled open a small cup of cream to mix into her coffee.
Drake fixed the positioning of the knife.
Lulu laughed a little louder. “You’re OCD.”
“You’re a pest.” He tried to say it without smiling. When he knew he couldn’t, he hid behind a sip of his coffee.
“If I’m a pest, then I’m a flea. And you’re a big old, grumpy dog.” She elbowed his arm, almost causing him to spill his coffee. “We’re in this together, buddy.”
“Maybe we don’t do that when I’ve got hot coffee over my crotch, yeah?”
“Oh, shit, you’re right. My bad. If I need warmer pants, I don’t want a coffee stain on them.”
Drake forced himself to look away from her so he could compose himself. When he thought he could maintain a straight face, he turned back around and was ready to fire off his response, until he saw her wide-eyed grin, with that silly haircut on the side of her head. He forced his words out before his reddening cheeks and growing smile betrayed him. “You still have your jean jacket, right? ‘Cause I was starting to get cold again.”
Lulu rotated her stool to face him properly, then scrunched her face and let what she took as a challenge, rather than a tease, linger between them. At first she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her seat. When he met her gaze with a raised eyebrow and his hand covering his mouth, failing to look casual, she sat up straight and pulled the sweater up from the hem in an exaggerated stretch and moan, revealing the white tank top beneath.
Drake stiffened and looked around the diner to see if anybody was staring. When his eyes came back on Lulu, she held out the sweater for him, pressing her almost non-existent breasts together with a pouty lip on her face.
“I guess I could survive the cold in my jacket,” she said.
Drake pushed the sweater back toward her and devoted his attention to his coffee. “Alright, you win. This isn’t gonna turn into one of your videos.”
Lulu shrugged and slid her arms through the sleeves of the sweater, saying, “You never know. Might have a little wait before we get on our flights. Gotta pass the time somehow.”
The waitress returned with their plates. Drake separated his food from touching with his fork before eating. Conversely, Lulu dug in. He was quick to match her frenzied pace. Between bites, he said, “Glad you finally found your sense of urgency.”
Lulu groaned with delight. “Nah, you go on without me.” She dipped a strawberry into the whipped cream – what was left of it – and savored the taste. “I can hop a flight tomorrow.”
He laughed, she ate, then he finished his plate. But not before Lulu asked for another favor.
“You gonna finish your fruit bowl?”
Drake took a deep breath, then slid the bowl down the counter. “Have at it.” With nothing left on his plate, he watched her eat again, amazed at how much food she was able to fit in her petite frame.
Even though she was scarfing down everything she could, Lulu savored every bite. She hadn’t eaten so good since the last time she’d been able to convince – Oh, what was his name? Taylor? Something ‘T’ – to take her out for lunch, just the two of them. That must have been a month ago. And between then and now, cereal for breakfast, peanut butter and jelly for lunch, and ramen for dinner. On a good day there were slight variations, cold cuts for lunch and leftover cold cuts to make a wrap for dinner, but that usually came with her monthly payouts. There was maybe another two weeks until the November payout came, but all she needed in the moment was enough to get to New York and the party. She’d worry about later later.
“Gonna have any room left for Thanksgiving dinner?” Drake asked as she picked at the fruit bowl.
She shook her head while swallowing a piece of cantaloupe. At the same time, Judy the waitress came over with the check. Drake waited to see if Lulu would actually reach for it and pay as she said she would. But when she answered his question, he didn’t have a lot of faith in her that she would.
“I won’t have time for one,” she said, poking around the fruit to find another piece of cantaloupe. “I’ve got a party to be at. But who knows, maybe the host will bring a turkey.”
Drake scoffed his jealousy. “A party like a party-party? Not a dinner party?”
“Yeah, the one I mentioned my friend invited me to. For the job.”
For the life of him, Drake couldn’t remember her mentioning any party, or friend, or a party a friend was helping her get a job at. Was this when they were falling asleep? Maybe it was just a dream she had.
“Sounds like a good way to spend the holiday,” he said. “I’m being dragged back to my brother’s place for a family dinner.” Laughing, he added, “I avoided it for years, but I guess I ran out of excuses this time. Shit, I never got back to him last night.”
Drake searched his pockets for his phone to give his brother an ‘I’m still alive’ text, and was frozen by Lulu’s indifferent words. “It’s nice they want you around. I’m not even allowed back home.”
If anyone else made a sound in the diner, Drake didn’t hear it. Lulu stabbed the last fruit cube with her fork and brought it into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, then picked up the check.
There was just enough from her payout left after the rideshare to pay the bill, leaving her with two dollars to her name.
“Come on,” she said while he was still silenced. “Don’t wanna miss your flight, do you?”