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Susanna tried to stifle the yawn she felt rising up in her chest, but didn’t succeed. Unbothered by the failure, she lifted a hand to the eye that had started watering and rubbed the single tear away.
“Tired, tonight?” asked Victor. Vic was a semi regular of hers. A few times a week while he waited for the bars to close, he’d park his cab outside and sit at the counter, always the same stool - the one with weird stain she was never able to get clean. She smirked at that thought, and nodded her head. “Can’t help it, I yawn and my eyes water.”
Vic flashes a smile as he stands up and began to dig his wallet out from his back pocket. Susanna watched him flip through the bills, counting out his tip, when a young couple walked in.
One was sweet looking blonde woman and with her was a man with sweet looking shiner, partially hidden under a baseball cap. The man walked ahead of the woman, surveying the near empty diner, and caught Susanna’s eye.
“Be with you in a few,” she called out.
It was then she managed to catch a moment, only a slight moment, of awkward hesitation between the couple. The blonde briefly started to move forward before pausing to let the man lead. Simultaneously, the man seemed to do the exact opposite, he briefly paused to let the woman move before catching her drift and jotted forward to pick out their seats.
Now despite working in an all-night diner, in a seedy neighborhood, in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen, Susanna didn’t dislike her job.
In fact there was one thing about being a waitress she actually truly enjoyed. Servers had a tendency to blend into the background, people didn’t mind them. And Susanna loved being a fly on the wall. She’d watch people from across her counter and marveled at how much they gave away. Things were so obvious to see when you were a stranger.
Most of the time she didn’t need to hear a single word, she could spot the couple on a first date or the couple about to break up, the signs were easy to read from a distance. In her own life she’d had her share of heartbreak, signs were much harder to see close up.
She turned her attention back to the couple as they walked past the edge of her counter. Something about this couple intrigued her, not enough hesitation between them for it to be a first date but, she supposed, it was a possibility.
Grabbing her trusty towel from it’s designated pocket on her apron, she began to wipe down the counter, as casually as she could, moving closer to the couple to catch their conversation.
Susanna turned her head back to Victor just as he wiggled into his jacket and gave his usual farewell wave and parting line, “Keep the change”. She started to wish him a good night when the man in the hat raised a finger to catch her attention.
“Ma’am? Just get a little black coffee over here?”
Nodding, Susanna placed her towel down and began moving to the other side of the counter. As she grabbed the pot of coffee from it's heating rack, the other couple in the diner, the man with silver hair and the woman with short brown hair (who was most likely his disgruntled mistress) knocked their silverware onto the floor. Susanna turned to catch the woman sighing in anger at herself as she leaned over to pick up the fallen forks and knives. The man quickly moved from his seat to help her. A good sign, Susanna thought to herself, and as the man helped the woman into her coat, the pair smiled at each other. Susanna was confident their argument had ended.
Now with only two customers left, Susanna reverted her focus and made her way over to the booth, catching just the end of the woman’s sentence.
“…that leaves us with railroads, shipping lines, trucks, maybe?”
Certainly not a first date. They know each other at least well enough to, what, be planning something. Maybe the woman is trying to run away. The man noticed Susanna approaching them first.
“Hey. Thank you.” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on the windows outside.
“How ‘bout you, hon?”
“Sure, yeah.” the blonde replied. Susanna peered at her, the woman looked nervous, kept her face down and spoke reluctantly, making a note of this, Susanna brought her attention back to the man.
“Get anything else right now?”
“You know what, I’m gonna need about as much black coffee as this place would pump out. So,” the man paused to dramatically twirl his fingers in the air, “just keep it coming.”
Susanna caught herself smirking at his little motion and took her leave as the man thanked her again.
Once she was back at her counter, the country song on the radio drowned out any conversation taking place at the booth. The woman on the radio sang about losing her man to another woman, was there any other type of country song, and belted out her lyrics full of heartache.
I’ve got your class ring that you gave to me
And it still looks the same as when you were here
The only thing different the only thing new
I’ve got your class ring she’s got you
Sighing for a moment and letting herself get caught up in the song, Susanna pours herself the last cup of coffee, sets up a new pot, and leans back against the counter, picking her feet up one and time and rotating them in small circles. As the coffee bubbles into the pot she watches the lone couple.
The man looks straight into the woman’s eyes, laughs, and begins talking, maybe telling a story. He’s moving his head side to side as he talks and his hands ever so slightly gesture to emphasize a point. The woman stays motionless but her eyes follow him and every move he makes. Every so often she will tilt her head down and look into her cup of coffee, is she nervous or is she shy. Suddenly, she looks up to meet his eyes and smirks. Whatever she says next makes the man laugh. He pauses for a moment before he slowly says something back to her. Her reply seems to pleasantly surprise the man. He laughs again before looking out into the street and begins to hardens his face as the woman talks. She keeps her eyes down but he stares at her. As the man sips his coffee and turns his gaze back out to the window, the woman flickers her eyes up at him. She looks up at the man once, twice, three times. Just as she starts to relax and settle into the seat, something shifts in their conversation. The man's elbows are on the table and his gesturing is getting bigger, while the woman is frozen and silent. She stares at the man, turns her head forward in disbelief, and begins speaking. Now he too leans forward and matches her pace of speaking, they are both frowning and shuttering out words.
Susanna folds her arms and continues her observations. It’s not a first date, they are too familiar with each for that. It’s clear they want to talk to each other. Their conversation never stops. The man is inclined to stare out the window and the woman prefers to keep her head down. But they are unbothered by the other’s distractions, they have an intimacy in the way they sit and converse. They keep engaging each other in discussion, making the other one smile. Whenever the woman stares down into her cup, the man scans her face like he's trying to memorize it. Maybe it’s not love yet, but no doubt about it, they care for each other.
“Ma’am,” again the man raises a hand for Susanna, “just a little bit more. Thank you.”
Carrying the full pot of hot coffee over to them, Susanna is just able to catch the last few words out of the woman’s mouth, “like ingredients, it’s not love”.
“Ma’am. Can I ask you, do you guys always serve bullshit here or is it just her, huh?” asks the man, his mouth curling up at the corner as he hides a smile.
The blonde scoffs loudly and pulls her face into a grimace.
Oooh boy. Fighting back her own smile, Susanna knows better than to engage, and simply replies, “Fresh pot.”
Chuckling to herself as she walks away, Susanna moves to wipe the counters down, getting closer for the impending flight to unfold. It sure looks like a love triangle.
The man had finished whatever speech he made and is leaning victoriously back into his seat while the woman is still bent forward. She is defensive and speaks slowly. The man laughs off her reply, shaking his head, and tilts forward towards her. He speaks fast and the woman keeps opening her mouth to argue and shaking her head in agitation.
Curiosity getting the better of her, Susanna turns off the radio, it’s just playing commercials now anyway, and she hopes she’ll be able to catch more of the conversation. Maybe when she was younger she could have heard them but she was no spring chicken.
The man was speaking rapid now, his eyes fixed on the woman with a strange look, something between regret and resolve, he must be giving a break up speech. The woman is angry, pointing her finger down at the table and outside the window. The man has retreated back into his seat and doesn't make eye contact with her, looking only at the window as he clenches his jaw. Suddenly the woman shoots up from the booth. Susanna figures this is the break up and the woman is going to the bathroom to cry. The last thing she expects is the blonde woman to rush over saying, “You’re in danger, there’s about to be a shootout. Hurry, we have to hide.”
The next few minutes are a blur.
The blonde woman tells Susanna and the bewildered cook, Harry, to hide in the walk in fridge. Susanna doesn’t question why the woman doesn’t stay with them. After the sound of bullets cease there is a long silence before the woman, this time with red eyes and tear stained cheeks, returns to open the door. She cautions them that there have been fatalities, the scene is gruesome, and that the police have been notified. While she speaks, she holds a pair of keys clutched tight in her hands. After a few minutes she unclenches her hand and stares at the blood smeared on the outer keys. The longer she looks at the keys, the faster her chest starts to rise until finally, she stomps over to the sink. Fighting back tears she slams the faucet on muttering under her breath, “This wasn’t. Our plan. Damnit Frank."
When the police arrive, Susanna watches a handsome and relieved detective call the woman “Karen” and tell her how glad he is that she is safe. Karen says something about being kidnapped her from the hotel and that she only managed to get away from the man, who she calls “Frank” with a softness Susanna pretends she doesn't notice, once the shooting started. Susanna says nothing when she is questioned, claims she is in too much shock.
When Harry’s boyfriend Jared arrives outside the diner, Karen watches with a mixture of bittersweet pain on her face. Jared is wide-eyed with terror when he collapses into Harry’s arms. At their touch, Harry's face becomes calm with gratitude, whispering in Jared’s ears how much he loves him. Karen watches them out of the corner of her eye and flips her hair to distract herself. The police are there no more than five minutes when Karen has convinced the officer in charge they have to go after Frank. How she talks the officer into letting her go with him, Susanna doesn’t know. All Susanna knows is the anxious and impatient look creeping across Karen’s face as she is driven away.
It's a few days later when Susanna is back, in the newly cleaned diner, that she reads the news about Frank Castle’s death.
She looks across to the empty booth and tries to imagine brief memories coming back to life. Frank teasing Karen, Karen teasing Frank, Frank’s toothy smile, Karen’s small grin, locked eyes and held glaze, arguing, tension, the disappointment and the attachment. What else would you get if you added it up together, it was love. Or it could have been. Would have been.
She wondered if Frank knew how much Karen cared, if Karen knew how much Frank cared. Where they too close to see the signs?
Susanna felt the yawn coming on but didn’t try to stifle it. Unbothered, she let the single tear fall down her face. Letting out a deep sigh as she set down the paper, she wiped away the tear rolling past her cheek, and carried on with the rest of her night.