Feb
chapter 1
Posted in not so short stories | 1 Comment »The sun hit her hair. Not in the light way of beauty and sunrises. It hit in the harsh blinding way. It hit so everyone notices, caught in the curls, living in the bounce, restricted in movement. He watched her from afar, never had the courage for more than distant admiration. He thought of himself as a lion at times. She must have been Dorthy. In movies, though, in his dreams, rather, they ended up together. He was the strong silent type, she the quirky love interest. He never knew her name, really. Someone once called her Jenn or Jane or something of the sort. But she was really Dorthy, she just didn’t know it. Yet.
"Can I get you more coffee, sir," the blond asked.
He mumbled a yes. His breakfast was cleared, his paper read, his email checked.
"I have a Mac," the blond again.
"I’m sorry?"
"I have a Mac. I’ll never go use a PC again," she explained. "Once you go Mac, you never go back. They say…" She babbled on and on, attempting to either rid him of her table or entertain him into a decent tip. He simply nodded and let her talk. He never took his eyes off Dorthy, though.
"She has a boyfriend."
"I’m sorry?"
"Jennifer. She has a boyfriend. They’ve been together longer than I can remember. They met in high school," the blond said, peeking his interest. "He’s a big guy, they biker type. His name is Chuck. Never mess with a Chuck."
"Like Chuck Norris," finally leaning into the conversation.
"Yes! Like Chuck Norris," she threw in. "You know under Chuck Norris’ beard, he has another fist. Ha ha. He can divide by zero too. Ha ha…." the waitress continued with her jokes, glad the tip may be greater now.
"Check?"
"Oh! Of course. Here you go, sir," with a wide toothy grin. Then she was gone.
He laid a twenty on the table and began to pack his things. Jennifer. Not Dorthy. Jennifer. Lap top, papers, power cord, pen, coffee mug. Ha ha. Not the coffee mug. Jennifer. Keys, phone, wallet, jacket. Jennifer. What a funny name. Dorthy seems to fit her more. He stood and put on his jacket, never moving his eyes from her hair, her sunlight. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked towards the door.
Wild idea. His feet changed course. He couldn’t do this. Mind over matter. Walk towards the door, not the counter. The waitress’ words flung through his mind over and over again. Never mess with a Chuck. What if he really had a third fist under his beard? Towards the door. Towards the door!
"Can I help you sir," Dorthy asked.
"I’m sorry?"
"Can I help you?"
"I, uh, see, I’m a lion," he fumbled. "I, um, I roar. Um, like a lion."
"Excuse me?"
"I’m sorry. I, um, I work," Why wouldn’t his tongue work properly?
"Yes sir. That’s what I’m trying to do. If there’s nothing else, Lion, please let me get back to it."
"Oh! Yes. Well, I’m going, um, now, um, work. Lunch?"
"Yes sir. We have a wide lunch selection. I believe I have things to do now, Lion. Have a nice day and we’ll see you next time." She was gone.
______
The rest of his day went by in a blur. There was a meeting about the budget and some customer complaints he needed to deal with. The day wasn’t completely lost, though. There were a few firings he needed to take care of before lunch. Then he would get to see her again. This time, he wouldn’t act a fool. He wouldn’t talk to her at all. Things are better from afar. Up close, she may vanish. Dorthy may not even be real. He couldn’t risk closeness. Not a chance.
The sun beat down on his face as he biked to the restaurant. It was still harsh, almost burned his cheeks. When he walked in, Dorthy gave him a sideways glance. She had never noticed him before. He was tall and broad, in obvious good physical condition. His tawny hair fell in his face when he removed his helmet. He swiftly ran his fingers over his head, setting everything back in its place. His legs where chiseled, apparently from the bike riding. His arms were tan and flexed. Lion seemed to be a very attractive man that Jenny had somehow missed.
"He stares at you every day," Bonnie said. "Couldn’t keep his eyes off you this morning. Leaves a good tip. Gave me twenty bucks for a eight dollar tab this morning."
"Can I steal a table from you, Bon? Just this once?"
"You know Chuck should be here soon," the thick blond warned. "He knows your tables and he won’t like that."
"I’ll blame you. You’re too lazy to take any more tables."
Bonnie’s eyes flashed a heavy warning. Chuck would not like this one bit.
"Ok. He’s all yours Bon," Jenny gave in. It was better this way. He was cute in his awkward way this morning, and temptation like that is better left alone. Why throw gas on an already burning fire? Just then, a loud roar rumbled, shaking the windows. Chuck and his gang had arrived.
Chuck was tall and well built. In his youth, a very attractive young man. Time and weather had beaten down his hair from a thick healthy black to a thin salt and pepper widow’s peak. His skin had grayed and leathered over time. He refused to give up his bike and all that entailed, the open road his best friend. They had been together almost 10 years. He would never settle down, though. Jenny would wait.
The bell over the door rang loudly as the entire place got quiet. People moved from Jenny’s tables, leaving whatever cash they could find. No one crossed Chuck. Jenny and the bus boy swiftly cleared the tables and pulled them together. Bonnie filled eight glasses with Bud Light from tap. In just a few short moments, the gang was resting easy, as if at home, filling all of Jenny’s tables.
Jenny could feel his eyes. The lion never took them off her. For 45 minutes she waited on the gang, catering their every need, all the while aware that lion was now aware that she was clearly taken. She should be glad. He would be off her trail now, couldn’t take on Chuck. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret though. Sticking by a man like Chuck means loosing out on the good men like Lion. Wonder what his real name is. Something strong like Anthony, she imagined. Lion Anthony.
"Hon, what are you doing," Chuck’s voice sharpened. Beer was sloshing everywhere. She was normally a good balance with trays. Almost never wasting an ounce of alcohol.
"Sorry Babe. I’ve been feeling a little bit off today," she lied. "I think I’m coming down with something."
"Well after you finish with us, you should ask for the rest of the day off."
A sigh of relief swam over her when she heard the bell and saw him leave. Back on his bike, back to his life.
"I’ll be fine. How are we gonna get that new bike you want if I take off work?"
Chuck laughed from the insides out, his whole face smiling.
"Good point, Suga." She placed the beers on the table and felt the familar booty slap as she walked away.