Chapter Text
Everything was spinning, dancing. She heard a voice speak but she could not make out the words. Another voice responded and she thought it was her own. She was saying something… something important… If only she could hear. She strained to listen but all she could hear was a buzzing sound that grew louder and louder, shattering the haze around her and-
Sarah smacked the alarm clock and pressed her hands to her eyes, attempting to block out the sun streaming through her bedroom window. Summoning all of her willpower, she dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom, gazing with resignation at the mirror and the dark circles under her eyes.
She had slept the night through, a full seven hours, but she felt as if her head had just touched the pillow. She turned on the shower and began to undress as she waited for the water to heat. Idly, she tried to remember the last time she felt like she’d gotten a full night’s sleep. Sometime before she’d moved, surely. So six months, at least. With a groan, she stepped into the shower and willed it to wake her up.
She relished the hot water for just a moment before she started washing her hair. She would like to stand in there and contemplate the meaning of life for a while, but the water heater in the duplex was a sad little thing and her neighbor often took a shower around this same time. Such was life in Gooseberry.
Her brain checked out as the morning routine took her. Brush her teeth, dry her hair, braid it and pin it around her head, clothes, light make-up, breakfast? No, she’d grab a smoothie at work. Before she knew it she stood at the door and ran down the final mental checklist. Shoes, pants, wallet, keys, phone, check. She cast one last uncomfortable look at her computer, sitting dejectedly in the corner, and closed the door.
It was only a few blocks to work so unless the weather was absolutely abysmal, she usually walked. Today the air was the crisp cool of early spring in the mountains, but nothing a jacket couldn’t take care of, so with a muttered, ‘Come on feet,’ she headed out.
Everything was nearby in Gooseberry, population about 1200. The little town was named for nearby Gooseberry Lake and catered heavily to the steady stream of campers, hikers, hunters and fishers that loved the area, set into beautiful mountains and criss-crossed by little streams and brooks. Fortunately it was also ‘on the way’ to enough places that it could get by, even in the off-season, though there were times in the winter when heavy snow made the road into and out of town impassable for a few days here or there.
Had she really only been here half a year? It felt like so much longer, despite the fact that many of the life-long residents of the town still viewed her as the mysterious newcomer.
Sarah walked the short distance to work, the cool air perking her up a bit, jogged across the empty highway that bisected the town, and knelt down to give Ludo a good pet. Ludo was a huge, shaggy dog that lived back behind the laundromat next door, but he was friends with everyone in town. He had long, russet red fur, a droopy face and soulful eyes. She had no idea what breed he might be, but he reminded Sarah of her old dog, Merlin, so she often brought him little treats.
At last, she took a deep breath before opening the door to the Piece of Cake Diner. Little bells jingled merrily.
“Yer late!”
She rolled her eyes and hung her jacket on the coat rack by the door. “I’m ten minutes early,” she countered.
“When I was yer age there wasn’t any of this showin’ up at the last minute without a care in the world. What if we had hungry customers waitin’, eh? What then?”
Slipping on her apron and name tag, Sarah said, “Then you wouldn’t let them in because we don’t open for another half hour.” She grinned impudently at her boss and he threw up his dark, wrinkled hands in disgust. There was no point getting ruffled by Mr. H, the owner of the diner. He was gruff and always grumpy, but he never failed to do right by his employees and they all knew that deep down he was a complete softy.
She was grateful to have gotten a job here. It was a decent place with mostly good coworkers and it paid enough even without tips to cover her rent. It had been stupid, she knew upon reflection, to pack up her things on a whim and move to this little town in the middle of nowhere and no plans for what to do when she arrived. She’d gotten lucky to be taken under the wing of Mr. H, who gave her work and helped her find a place to live. She owed him a lot.
After making herself a quick smoothie, Sarah set to work preparing the front counter to open. She exchanged a few words with Boris in the kitchen, wiped the countertops down, set out condiments and menus, and moved the pastries from the big refrigerator to the display case. She scowled at them for a moment before calling out, “Carrot cake. Everyone likes a good slice of carrot cake.”
“No,” Mr. H snapped.
“We have pie, cinnamon rolls, danishes and cobbler,” she exclaimed with exasperation. It was an old argument.
“We got plenty,” her boss agreed.
“It’s called the Piece of Cake Diner. The Piece of Cake . How can we not sell cake? It’s… it’s false advertising!”
Mr. H snorted, an impressive sound from his bulbous nose. “Ain’t nobody ever complained but you.”
Sarah opened her mouth to continue her argument but the little bells on the door jingled, welcoming in the first customer of the day.