An Order of Coffee and Tears Read Online Free PDF Page B

spun around to give it a once over. My first thought was Angela’s Diner. When the doors did open, I think a bit of our business left. A big bit, or, should I say, a bite!
    I’ve walked past the fast-food place every day on my way to and from the diner. Their parking lot is always full, and enough bodies are lined up to keep me from seeing through the wall-to-wall glass windows. It is a busy crowd. A fast crowd. A crowd interested in getting in and getting out. There are days when it is full of a younger group of kids. On those days, I’ve seen teens wearing blue tweed jackets and gray blazers. They’re the kids from the all-girls and all-boys school. A few of the faces, I recognized, and even remember serving a coffee or two. Once, I glimpsed Blonde and Red, sitting atop a beige plastic booth, laughing it up with some boys while dipping fries into their chocolate and vanilla shakes.
    “Hi, Gabby. Ms. Potts and Clark treating you okay?” Mr. Thurmon asked. I jumped when I heard his voice, startling the fast-food thoughts away. At some point, the conversation in the back of the diner broke, and, while Ms. Potts continued working an inventory check, Mr. Thurmon had poured himself some coffee and had taken a seat at the counter.
    “Yes. Yes, thank you,” I answered quickly, thinking my voice sounded nervous. I passed him the creamers and sugar, and asked, “And you?”
    With half a smile, he nodded his head and then gave his mother’s diner a glance, “Same… but same is good, right?”
    “Sure thing,” I answered back, this time my words sounded stronger. Sipping his coffee, Mr. Thurmon began to say something, but then hesitated. Ms. Potts joined me at the counter, and Mr. Thurmon stood and took a step toward the booths and stared. Moving to the far corner, he knelt down on one knee, looked beneath the table, and began to laugh.
    “Ya know,” he started, his finger pointing under the table, “I used to fit under there. Amazing. This place used to look enormous to me.” He chuckled as he stood, and then spun a seat on one of the counter’s stools. Lifting his arms like a conductor of an orchestra, he announced, “A kingdom with shiny gates coming up from the ground, and Clark, our Knight, and Guardian of the Grill.” His eyes were wide as he described a strange land he’d made up and played in as a boy.
    “Junior. It’s gonna be okay.” Ms. Potts said, her voice shaky. She stepped toward Mr. Thurmon and placed a hand on his arm. “It’s gonna be fine.”
    Mr. Thurmon turned to face us, his expression lost thirty years in that moment, and briefly, I saw a little boy’s eyes, and a little boy’s smile.
    “Can you fix me some of your hot cocoa… with the little marshmallows? It’s been years since I’ve had your hot cocoa,” he begged with his hands brought together.
    “Sure thing. Would be my pleasure,” Ms. Potts answered, and led him back to the counter where he took to his seat.
    “Thank you,” he said, his smile broad and his eyes wandering around the diner. Clark and I passed a confused look. I liked Mr. Thurmon. I didn’t like seeing him like this. In fact, it scared me. Ms. Potts’ expression told me it scared her, too. He reminded me of someone on the verge, someone who’d been given news that was just too much for them to take in one sitting.
    Whatever he’d come to talk to Ms. Potts about, it couldn’t have been good news. Selfish relief settled in me as I realized that any news this big couldn’t have been about letting me go. Surely letting a waitress go due to financial reason wouldn’t spin up Mr. Thurmon’s cuckoo clock. That meant the news could be about Angela’s Diner, and that, too, wouldn’t be good for anyone.
    Ms. Potts hurried a cup of hot cocoa to the counter, and plunked three mini marshmallows into the small frothy pool floating on top. Steam circled above the cup, gesturing an invitation. My stomach growled, and my mouth watered. Ms. Potts held a proud