Come June [ h.s. ]

14

14
.

It was almost six o'clock in the afternoon, and Eileen was wiping down tables at her parent's restaurant.

There was a knot digging into her back from the waitress apron tied snug around her waist. She'd tried several times to sneak away and loosen it throughout her shift, but didn't seem to make any progress. This was quite typical of her — her parents had always poked fun at the strange habits she possessed, like tying knots too snug, or closing lids too tight. It was referred to as "pulling an Eileen," which never really made much sense to her (as her father would say, "Eileen, you pulled an Eileen").

Scrunching her brow in frustration, she gave up on the knot for the thousandth time and scanned her surroundings for him.

As the restaurant owner — or co-owner, with his wife — Ove Harris was usually moving all over the place. He greeted people, helped his daughter wait on tables, whatever was needed in order for things to run smoothly. Today had been particularly slow, meaning that he spent most of his time outside of the dining area.

She couldn't find his tall figure anywhere nearby, at least not at the moment.

In the hopes of closing early, she quickly tended to the last two tables, clearing plates and speaking lightheartedly with the customers. The majority of people who visited were familiar faces. Eileen loved that aspect of small-town life; she had made countless friends just by going to her job. Some individuals were more unpleasant, naturally — and at times the younger fellows who fancied her came across unsettling.

She wasn't oblivious to it; but she wasn't interested, either. In secondary school she'd never had boyfriends. Even at university, she spent most of her time with friends or keeping up with her courses. She wasn't interested in flings, nor people who weren't serious about being with her, and therefore hadn't ever been in a real relationship.

Maybe that was surprising.

But Eileen wasn't the type to go searching — she knew that love, among other things, never seemed to show up while you were looking for it.

The bell above the front doors sounded as a new customer walked in. Having nearly cleared out the entire place, she felt her heart sink at the thought of working a minute longer. The heavy feeling in her eyes matched the heavy feeling in her legs, even the heavy feeling in her chest; her entire body felt like a wet dish rag, worn, tattered, and just plain exhausted.

Stay strong, she told herself.

Just a little bit longer, and then you'll be home.

The words didn't do much to comfort her. She took a moment to compose herself and turned to greet whoever it was, her shoulders still slumped.

"Wow," said Harry. His lips were pressed tightly together in an attempt to hold back his smile. "You didn't look nearly this disheveled 'last time I was here."

Eileen gasped with excitement, not even bothering to take offense from the remark.

The sight of him almost rendered her speechless. His hair looked a bit more wavy than usual, and had definitely grown since she'd met him — it was still on the shorter side, but the new and messy nature of it made him look so much younger. The restaurant lights cast a warm glow across his skin.

"Boy, am I glad to see you," she chuckled. They took a few steps closer to each other from their places across the room. "I thought you were someone looking for dinner. Unless — that is why you're here?"

"No, no!" he exclaimed. "I wouldn't dream of making you wait on me. I just came by to say hello."

She gave him a look.