Diner Girl
Chapter One
New Hope, Illinois
Cold settled over her like some kind of cruel blanket. Even half running, Jennifer Cleary wasn’t able to escape the slicing knife of wind and sleet as it swirled around her legs and up her scant nylon skirt. Vacant eyes of storefront televisions flashed blue and grey through a display window. The echoing sound of a forgotten speaker bounced off the too-cold concrete. “Pay attention, ladies, because this is a name you will not want to soon forget! Our most eligible bachelor of the year is Mar—”
Dumb contest, Jennifer thought as she turned the corner. Losing the protection of surrounding buildings, sharp pellets of sleet stabbed her face and settled in her hair. The weatherman had forecast unseasonable warmth through the weekend. Her mind raced ahead to the homeless woman who slept on her stoop. She usually brought a bagel or sandwich from the diner where she worked, but tonight she just hoped the woman had a warm place to go.
With the apartment building in view, the woman was nowhere to be seen. Jennifer stopped briefly and held open her purse, shaking it to hear the jingle of her keys. Nothing happened. Where? Then it hit her. They must still be at the diner.
All she’d been able to think about was getting home.
Whorls of sleet danced across the empty street. A light flashed at the end of the block but even as she hoped it might be someone driving toward her, she remembered the construction barricade. The lights signaled for drivers not to turn there. The strange quiet weighed heavy. On this side of town couples fought loudly, drunks stumbled out of bars, a few people slept on the sidewalks, but it was never quiet.
Her heart pounded as icy wind blew up her skirt. Jennifer felt trapped, alone, and completely out of control. She hated feeling out of control. I need to get some pepper spray, she thought, almost as a way of getting her balance back. And she needed to get inside.
The stairs to the entrance sparkled with a dangerous layer of ice, causing Jennifer to slip as she ascended. C’mon, c’mon! She pushed the first intercom button on her building.
Shlobansky. The building manager. Someone had to be home. Someone had to answer. She scrubbed her arms with frozen hands then interlaced her fingers to blow on them before pressing the next button. A smell wafted from the nearby alley. Alcohol mixed with sour milk.
“Please.” She waited a few moments and after still no answer, she punched the next button. If she’d known it would turn so cold she would have brought her coat. None of that mattered now, though, because if she didn’t find a way into her apartment building soon, she would freeze to death. She pressed the next button. “C’mon!”
“Hello?” The scratchy, deep voice on the other end sounded as if he’d been asleep, and was none too happy about being wakened.
“Hi, um…s-sorry, I live in the building, but I forgot my keys. Could you let me in?” The intercom clicked off almost before she finished talking. At least she knew which button to press now. Desperate, she tried again.
“C’mon lady, go find some other building to bother,” the voice said this time.
“Wait, pl-please, I left my keys at work, if you could just open the door, Mr. Shlobansky will let me into m-my apartment. Please...it’s fr-freezing out here.”
A siren blared in the distance and she wondered if he’d called the cops. At least if he did, she’d be out of the cold. The intercom clicked, and as she reached forward to press it again, a light flickered on in a second story window. Jumping from side to side to keep from going numb, she pressed her face against the glass beside the door.
After a few moments a man stumbled down the stairs. He pushed open the door, and before she had a chance to say thank you, turned around and headed back up. She only got to see his backside: muscular flexing thighs, tight white undershirt, cute boxers with little yellow ducks on them. Ducks?
Jennifer stifled the giggle that threatened, and concentrated on admiring the view as she stepped into the foyer. She wondered what he was like when he wasn’t being wakened from his sleep. The exotic smell of his cologne lingered in the lobby, but she tried to ignore it. Instead, she made a mental note to give him a proper thank you in the morning. Perhaps invite him to have breakfast at the Four-Star, on her.
Rubbing first on her naked legs to restore circulation, she stomped to shake off ice and dirt before heading downstairs toward Mr. Shlobansky’s apartment in the basement. A large sticky note on the door read: Family Tragedy, Out of Town—-For Emergencies, See Clyde in Apartment 206. Her shoulders drooped.
“Just give me a break!” Jennifer still felt frozen, and now she had to track down Clyde. With a resigned air she started up the three flights to 206, then sized up the door before her and wondered only briefly how Clyde would feel about being wakened. Squaring her shoulders, she knocked.
New Hope, Illinois
Cold settled over her like some kind of cruel blanket. Even half running, Jennifer Cleary wasn’t able to escape the slicing knife of wind and sleet as it swirled around her legs and up her scant nylon skirt. Vacant eyes of storefront televisions flashed blue and grey through a display window. The echoing sound of a forgotten speaker bounced off the too-cold concrete. “Pay attention, ladies, because this is a name you will not want to soon forget! Our most eligible bachelor of the year is Mar—”
Dumb contest, Jennifer thought as she turned the corner. Losing the protection of surrounding buildings, sharp pellets of sleet stabbed her face and settled in her hair. The weatherman had forecast unseasonable warmth through the weekend. Her mind raced ahead to the homeless woman who slept on her stoop. She usually brought a bagel or sandwich from the diner where she worked, but tonight she just hoped the woman had a warm place to go.
With the apartment building in view, the woman was nowhere to be seen. Jennifer stopped briefly and held open her purse, shaking it to hear the jingle of her keys. Nothing happened. Where? Then it hit her. They must still be at the diner.
All she’d been able to think about was getting home.
Whorls of sleet danced across the empty street. A light flashed at the end of the block but even as she hoped it might be someone driving toward her, she remembered the construction barricade. The lights signaled for drivers not to turn there. The strange quiet weighed heavy. On this side of town couples fought loudly, drunks stumbled out of bars, a few people slept on the sidewalks, but it was never quiet.
Her heart pounded as icy wind blew up her skirt. Jennifer felt trapped, alone, and completely out of control. She hated feeling out of control. I need to get some pepper spray, she thought, almost as a way of getting her balance back. And she needed to get inside.
The stairs to the entrance sparkled with a dangerous layer of ice, causing Jennifer to slip as she ascended. C’mon, c’mon! She pushed the first intercom button on her building.
Shlobansky. The building manager. Someone had to be home. Someone had to answer. She scrubbed her arms with frozen hands then interlaced her fingers to blow on them before pressing the next button. A smell wafted from the nearby alley. Alcohol mixed with sour milk.
“Please.” She waited a few moments and after still no answer, she punched the next button. If she’d known it would turn so cold she would have brought her coat. None of that mattered now, though, because if she didn’t find a way into her apartment building soon, she would freeze to death. She pressed the next button. “C’mon!”
“Hello?” The scratchy, deep voice on the other end sounded as if he’d been asleep, and was none too happy about being wakened.
“Hi, um…s-sorry, I live in the building, but I forgot my keys. Could you let me in?” The intercom clicked off almost before she finished talking. At least she knew which button to press now. Desperate, she tried again.
“C’mon lady, go find some other building to bother,” the voice said this time.
“Wait, pl-please, I left my keys at work, if you could just open the door, Mr. Shlobansky will let me into m-my apartment. Please...it’s fr-freezing out here.”
A siren blared in the distance and she wondered if he’d called the cops. At least if he did, she’d be out of the cold. The intercom clicked, and as she reached forward to press it again, a light flickered on in a second story window. Jumping from side to side to keep from going numb, she pressed her face against the glass beside the door.
After a few moments a man stumbled down the stairs. He pushed open the door, and before she had a chance to say thank you, turned around and headed back up. She only got to see his backside: muscular flexing thighs, tight white undershirt, cute boxers with little yellow ducks on them. Ducks?
Jennifer stifled the giggle that threatened, and concentrated on admiring the view as she stepped into the foyer. She wondered what he was like when he wasn’t being wakened from his sleep. The exotic smell of his cologne lingered in the lobby, but she tried to ignore it. Instead, she made a mental note to give him a proper thank you in the morning. Perhaps invite him to have breakfast at the Four-Star, on her.
Rubbing first on her naked legs to restore circulation, she stomped to shake off ice and dirt before heading downstairs toward Mr. Shlobansky’s apartment in the basement. A large sticky note on the door read: Family Tragedy, Out of Town—-For Emergencies, See Clyde in Apartment 206. Her shoulders drooped.
“Just give me a break!” Jennifer still felt frozen, and now she had to track down Clyde. With a resigned air she started up the three flights to 206, then sized up the door before her and wondered only briefly how Clyde would feel about being wakened. Squaring her shoulders, she knocked.