Page 21 of Life After You

I’m pulled from my memory when Patty hands me a big bag filled with icing. Setting it aside, I notice Clay and Amber watching me, concern evident on their faces.

“Sorry, I was in my own little world.” I say with an apologetic smile.

“Okay…” Amber replies cautiously, “Well, I’ll have a hot chocolate to go, please.” I nod, still distracted, as I clumsily prepare her drink. Sliding the sealed drink across the counter, I catch Patty nodding approvingly before gesturing to the bag.

“That’s for the cakes cooling in the kitchen,” she says from behind me, making me jump, “I wanna see what your decorating skills are like. Clay, quit gawping, and get your cute buns off to class now, ya hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Clay says with a cheeky salute.

As he heads out Si the mechanic from across the street heads in. A towering man in his early sixties, with a build that could rival a lumberjack. His broad shoulders stretched the seams of his well-worn coveralls, and his hands, rough and calloused from years of work—looked big enough to crush a basketball. His thick, salt and pepper beard framed a face that was perpetually smudged with grease, and his eyes, a piercing blue, sparkled with a mischievous warmth that made it clear he loved to laugh. Despite his intimidating size, there was a gentleness about him—visible in the way he carried himself, and spoke to others, especially Patty. I’d served him in the diner a few times, he always had time for a friendly chat, and his deep rumbling voice was as comforting as a warm blanket on a cold night. Si was the kind of man you wanted in your corner—loyal, dependable, and fiercely protective of those he cares about. I watch Clay exchange words with Si, before Si claps him on the back hard enough to send him stumbling forward. Si’s booming laugh echoes through the café.

“What are they talking about?” I ask Patty, whose busy brewing another pot of coffee.

Patty shakes her head, wagging a finger. “Now, Kayla. I’m not one to gossip…”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

She grins. “My guess is our boy there’s trying to get Si to wrestle with him. Si babysat Clay when he was younger—kinda like his unofficial Uncle.” Her tone turns dreamy. “What a man…”

I smirk. “Patty, do you have a thing for Si?”

Patty’s ears and cheeks flush scarlet as she lets out a giggle that seems decades younger than her age. Her reaction sets off a fit of laughter between Amber and me.

“He’s got big hands,” Amber teases, grinning wickedly.

“I bet that’s not all that’s big!” I add, earning an exaggerated gasp from Patty. She flutters her hands as through batting away the thought. Just then, Si ruffles Clay’s hair on his way out and steps up to the counter.

“Morning, Patty. Usual, please,” he says, drumming his massive hand on the counter.

Amber dashes out of the door, cackling. Si watches her leave puzzled.

“She okay?”

“She just had an idea.” I reply with a smile.

The rest of the day was uneventful—until evening. The door chime rings as I clear a table, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. It’s the man from this morning, but now he’s brought two friends. Camera’s hang from their necks as they joke loudly, their pale complexions and greasy appearances making my stomach turn.

“I told you, Frank, my source says he’s coming here.” One of them says. The others speculate loudly about a potential family member, love interest, or even a pregnancy scandal, laughing crudely.

Patty steps up. “What can I get you fellas?”

One of them sneers, “Anything here that doesn’t suck?”

The others chuckle, but Patty stands her ground, her silence pressing.

“How about sending the cute waitress over?” another suggests, leering. “We can make her famous.”

Patty’s voice turns sharp. “That’s enough. Order, or head to the bar down the street—they serve hot wings in fifteen minutes.

The apparent leader smirks. “Espresso and a brownie, then.”

As Patty serves them, I focus on wiping tables until one of the men suddenly appears behind me.

“Sorry, darlin’” he slurs, “Need any help?”

I stiffen. “Would you mind stepping back please, sir?”

Instead, he leans in, his hand brushing the small of my back. I flinch and step forward.

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