Archer's Voice(42)

I sighed and sat up and Phoebe came trotting into the room. "Hey girl," I said softly. "You probably need to go outside, don't you?"

I walked her to the front door and slid my flip flops on, noting that I needed to throw the rotting roses sitting on the table by my entry, into the garbage. When I opened the door, I immediately saw something sitting on the mat on my porch. Confused, I bent down and picked it up. I sucked in a breath and then started grinning. It was a "bouquet" of Almond Joy candy bars held together in the middle with a little piece of string, tied neatly in a bow.

I turned it around in my hands, grinning stupidly, happiness blooming in my chest. I guessed this was an apology? Or… a gesture of friendship? What exactly did it mean? I groaned. This man!

I laughed out loud, hugging the candy bars to me and then standing there grinning like a fool some more. Awkward boy. Sweet, silent Archer Hale.





**********





I worked six to two the next day and was practically skipping when I entered the diner. It was my second non-flashback morning. When I had gone to bed the night before, I was slightly scared that that morning had been some kind of weird fluke. But no, it looked like it wasn't. I felt like a whole new person. A lighter person, a person filled with hope and freedom.

As the breakfast crowd was thinning out, Norm called from the kitchen, "Maggie, I gotta take a break in the back. Call me if someone comes in." He removed the plastic gloves on his hands and then he stepped away from the grill and headed to the small break room behind the kitchen.

Maggie shook her head.

"Is he okay?" I asked.

"Damn stubborn ass is sick, but of course, he won't hire another cook. He's cheap and he thinks he's the only one who can do anything." She shook her head again.

I frowned, pausing in my counter wipe down and turning to Maggie. I tilted my head, considering and then said, "Maggie, if you ever need help in the kitchen, my family owned a deli and I used to cook there. I think I could muddle through here… I mean, you know, if it ever became necessary."

Maggie studied me. "Well, thanks, honey. I'll keep that in mind."

I nodded and turned back to my counter cleaning duties.

Just as I was finishing up, the bell above the door rung and I looked up to see a woman I'd estimate to be in her mid-forties walk into the diner. She was wearing a light beige, short-sleeved pant suit that looked like it was designer, and though I didn't know a whole lot about brand names, even I knew that the large C logo on her purse stood for Chanel.

She had glossy blonde hair swept up into a chignon, with a few pieces artfully framing her face. Her makeup was impeccable, if a little too heavy, painted on a tight face that had clearly seen a plastic surgeon's scalpel.

"Well, hello Mrs. Hale," Maggie said, rushing over to her like the Queen of England had just walked through her door.

"Maggie," she said, barely glancing sideways at her as she moved toward me at the counter. A waft of expensive smelling perfume–heavy on the lilies and roses–tickled my nose. I sneezed, bringing my upper arm up to cover my mouth and nose and then bringing it down again. "Excuse me!" I laughed softly.

The woman looked at me like I might be contagious. Geez, a God bless you wasn't a lot to ask, was it? Wow, I was getting really good vibes here.

"I'll wait while you wash your hands."

"Uh, right, okay, I'll be right back to take your order."

"I'm not ordering."

I paused. Okay…. but just nodded and hurried to the back where I washed and dried my hands and then hurried to the front. As I was walking toward the counter, it suddenly occurred to me to ask myself why I was taking orders from this person anyway.

"How can I help you?" I asked, keeping my distance from the counter, not wanting to go into a sneezing fit again. I was pretty sure I was allergic to her.

"I'm Victoria Hale, I'm sure you've heard of me."

I looked at her blankly. "No, I'm sorry, I haven't," I lied, taking some small measure of pleasure from the look of anger that briefly flashed over her face. What a bitch.

But then she quickly recovered. "Well, then I'm glad I came in to introduce myself. I'm Travis Hale's mother. I understand you're seeing him socially?"

"Uh, I… " I paused. What the hell was going on here? "I went on one date with him," I said, furrowing my brows and studying this brazen woman. I wouldn't be going out with Travis again, but this woman didn't need to know that.

"Yes, so I've heard," she said. "That's fine, I guess. Travis chooses the women he wants to… see. What I'm not fine with is that you've apparently made a friend of Archer Hale."