Broken Strings

Eight

So it made her nervous. Palms clammy with sweat, Ginger nearly dropped the mug of coffee as she carried it back to him. Yet the nerves dissipated with a flash of that grin. Different than the ones she'd seen on the cover of magazines or in movie promos. Softer, a little bit crooked, just a glimpse of the teeth. 

"Thank you," Jay said. He took a sip of the coffee and his eyes widened in surprise. "That's amazing. Best cup of coffee I've had in a while." 

"I'd take the credit but really that should go to the people who harvest and roast the beans in Hawaii. We just bring 'em in and brew it." 

"Well, what you do here with the beans is much better than the instant coffee I make at home." 

For some reason, it surprised her though she didn't quite know why. Ginger supposed that she'd thought that all famous people had their daily coffee delivered to them fresh from the Starbucks down the street. It hadn't really occurred to her that they might also make shitty instant coffee in their immaculate kitchens while wearing ratty sweatpants and t-shirts with holes in them like she did in the mornings. 

Ginger only smiled at him. "Is there anything else I can get you? Or just the coffee?" 

Jay raked an eye over the menu again. "How good is the mac n' cheese?" 

"Best in town." 

"Is that hard to be?" 

"Nope." Ginger laughed and he chuckled alongside her. Low and muted but with a trace of real amusement. "But it is good. I promise. The trick is that instead of breadcrumbs on top, we use potato chips." 

Jay looked as if he wasn't quite sure how to process that. Then, he nodded slowly and shut the menu. "Okay. I'll try that. If it's terrible, I guess I know who to blame. Right, Ginger?" 

She was so used to people picking up her name from the nametag on her shirt that she wasn't even surprised when her name rolled off his tongue. Though she was surprised at how melodic it sounded coming out of his mouth. And familiar. Jay said her name as if they were old friends – someone he was close with. 

"That's right," she said to him as she took the menu. "I'll put that order in for you." Ginger wrote up the ticket and passed it into the kitchen. 

There was only one cook in today – Jerry – but he was the best Annie's Diner had.  He was older, in his sixties, with white and a grizzled stubble of a beard on his chin. Aging lines were just starting to deepen in the plains of his face. Jerry nodded at her as he took the ticket and got to work on Jay's order.

While she waited for it to be finished, Ginger brought out the check for the family by the window and after they'd left, she went back to the counter and pretended to clean again. It was half to pass time and half to keep from studying Jay. 

After a few minutes though, she couldn't help but ask, "Are you in town to see Bailey Grant?" 

Jay's head whipped towards her. "What? How'd you know that?" 

Ginger snorted and threw down her rag. It was just the two of them now – and Jerry in the back but he was older than her father and definitely didn't have a clue who Jay Dawson was. "Oh please. It's pretty obvious to tell when out-of-towners pass through here. There's really only one place you all head to." 

"I'm just here on a vacation." 

"Right. Sure." 

"No, really," he said firmly. Jay sighed and took the sunglasses off as if there was no point wearing them now. His eyes were impossibly green, like the colour of springtime. "My roommate is the one who is here to see Bailey Grant. They're both musicians. I just tagged along."