She Waits For Him To Notice

Flash Fiction

Photo by Nick Hillier on Unsplash

Dishes clatter in the crowded city diner where Josh eats his breakfast every day. That is not an exaggeration. He sits on the same stool in the same spot and orders the same thing. It is predictable but comfortable. He walks from his apartment to work, with this morning stop along the way. He once told a fellow diner that this routine serves as a deep breath before he walks into his office to field the many requests that fill up his working day. 

There’s something about this diner that Josh really finds comforting, even though it is not a quiet place. The loud city voices of boisterous people coming off the night shift, all talking with the volume turned up. The jazzy music is playing nonstop from the speakers above. Waitresses collect orders and set down plates of food a little too carelessly. His coffee cup is never more than half empty, always hot and a little too strong. The unknown guy next to him assumes that sitting at the bar is permission to converse with strangers. 

This noise allows Josh to quietly enjoy his meal in relative anonymity - except for the guy loudly complaining about the panhandlers and hard-to-find taxis. Josh just nods and eats his breakfast. Living alone, his apartment is awfully quiet. That’s why he likes this noisy diner. He would eat here in the evening as well, but when he passes the diner on the way home after work, it has closed for the day. The windows reveal a darkened dining room. The only light is in the kitchen as she cleans up and prepares for the next day. 

Photo by Nick Hillier on Unsplash

With all the customers, noise, greasy food, and music he has never noticed her. But day after day she watches him enjoy the breakfast she has prepared. She doesn’t have time to take a break and meet him, and she wouldn’t be that bold if she did have the opportunity. When he walks in, she begins preparing the breakfast she knows he is going to order. Sometimes she gives him a little more than the order calls for. He never mentions it to the waitress, and he never glances toward the kitchen for an explanation. Lost in his own world, he is oblivious to her existence. 

There are lots of sad stories at the diner. Women who work here as a second job, trying to feed their family. Sometimes there are women on probation after a wrong turn in life, looking for a second chance. There have been drifters who come to work for a month or so before moving on to some other city. But she has been there for a long time and enjoys preparing the food for the customers. Well, except for the grumpy complaining ones!

Josh has never turned away her cooking. She only knows his name because the waitress who serves him most of the time is sometimes annoyingly loud. She calls him “honey” most of the time. She has, though, called him by name. A little too friendly, a little too bubbly, but it is all in search of a bigger tip. Behind the counter, and then into the kitchen, there is no interaction at all.

Hers is not a glamorous job, by any means. Most would see it as a temporary effort until something better comes along. But not Myra. She found the work hard but satisfying. It did not seem so long ago that she prepared meals at home, entertaining her friends and finding joy in their delightful responses to her enjoyable meals. Her husband invited clients to be impressed with her hospitality and grace. That was before he found another woman’s charms too difficult to resist.

Now it’s just her. There is no home to invite others to, just a small apartment. So Myra finds solace in doing something she enjoys. Not especially the cooking - she is not formally trained but capable. It is the delight on the face of those who enjoy what she prepares. Most days. Some days, it is a struggle to make it through the hours. Each day, near the same time, the bell rings over the door and she knows to expect him. Sometimes in the evening, she wonders what he is doing, what it would be like to get to know him, or even if he has someone in his life already.

Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash

Josh doesn’t even think about her. 

He politely gives greetings to whoever is sitting next to him. It’s always someone different. The only one in the place that is consistently on the same stool is Josh. He engages in small talk with the waitress and tips her generously before heading out the door. Sometimes he sees a lemon pie displayed on the counter and buys a piece to have later while in his office. 

She smiles as she watches from the kitchen. He never passes up the lemon pie.

The dishes clatter, the voices are raised, and Josh sits down for breakfast. The music plays almost beneath their awareness, where the lady prepares his breakfast, extra eggs, and waits for him to notice. 

This is my entry into S. E. Reid’s Flash Fiction contest at Talebones Weekly. I’ve written a few short fiction posts recently and this prompt gave me the idea to write something different than I usually compose. If nothing else, it gave me a moment to contemplate the joy of lemon pie. I hope you enjoy it! - JED

I’ve written two other fiction posts, accompanied by original photographs. I didn’t have the photos I wanted for this post, so I’m thankful for Unsplash.

Gentle Reminders (at this point, the most popular post on my Substack).

He Walks Through Fields.