Finding Me

Chapter 6

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I waited for the light to turn. You would think that the only stop light in town wouldn't take that long. I have what my father calls a lead foot so , when the light finally turned to green, I barely put my foot on the pedal. I have been trying to improve my driving. Even thought I was going slow for me, it only took me about a minute to reach the edge of town and my favorite diner.

To most people their favorite diner would be the restaurant with the food that tasted the best to them. While the food this place had was good, I liked it because it was a renovated and restored boxcar.

My family actually knew the owner, Lydia Greyson. My mother had met her in grade school and they knew each other until graduation. At that point my mother had went off to college, where she met my father, and Lydia stayed in Newburn and learned how to be a line cook. Lydia saw this old boxcar sitting on the edge of town, saved up enough to buy it, and renovated the heck out of it. She added a kitchen, some booths, and ad counter and it took off. You wouldn't think there would be enough of space to have a diner but Lydia made it work.

I tightened my coat around me as I walked from my car to the door of the diner.

I should have worn gloves, I thought when I grasped the frozen handle and pulled the door open.

One great thing about having a really small diner is that , with the kitchen being so close, it is always warm. At least in the winter it's a good thing. Maybe not so much in the summer.

The heat blasts me in the face when I opened the door. I hung my coat up on the coat rack by the door, turned to go to my usual spot at the counter ....

"Are you stalking me?"

The first thought in my head was , No way, not her again. I turned and there she was in the same vintage shirt and jeans she was wearing earlier. Before I said anything in return, Lydia noticed that I was there.

" Hey baby girl, " Lydia said," Just have a seat anywhere. You want your usual?"

"Yes please, " I said. I don't know why but I sat now next to Ms. Rude. I wasn't planning to say anything to her but I couldn't stop myself.

I turned to her. "What exactly is your problem? " I asked, " What did I ever do to you?"

Her face softened a bit. "I'm sorry ," she said, " The last couple of days have been.... well let's just say not good and you got the brunt force of it."

I don't know why but I said, " Sorry to hear that."

"I'm Becky by the way." She held out her hand and I grasped it. Her hand was soft, the nails a perfect french manicure. I don't think she had ever did a days hard work.

" I know it's none of my business but what is going on that made you treat me that way?"

"It's okay. I'll tell you. My ex girlfriend is being a pain and I guess I'm taking I'm out on people. You still in school?"

Did she really care? "Yeah I'm a senior . I graduate in a couple of months . "

" Then what ?"

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it much."

"You want to get a table?" Becky asked.

"Sure," I said.

When we were sitting at booth, she looked at me for a second. The waitress came over and sat a cup of coffee in front of me.

"I already know what you want Steph. What would you like?" She turned to look at Becky.

Becky picked up a menu and studied it as if she was going to have a test on it. "Do you serve breakfast all day?" she asked. The waitress nodded. " I'll have the sausage omelette with the biscuits. Thank you." The waitress went to put he order in.

I was starting to see a different side of Becky. She was nice and polite. Not the rude person I had met earlier.

"What about college?" Becky asks.

"I don't know. I know it's what I'm supposed to do but I'm not sure it's what I really want." I raised my mug to my lips and almost sighed from the warmth of the coffee spreading through out my body. " What about you?" I ask, " I haven't seen you in school."

"I'm actually out of high school but I went to a boarding school not the public school here. But I just started college last semester."

"What are you studying?"

"American literature," Becky said. This piqued my interest. In general I loved literature but I had a special place in my soul for American literature.