He Never Looked Up at Breakfast, So I Served Him Papers novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Her Usual

At the diner across from the courthouse, Seth knows her order after one visit and Dot offers a room upstairs. At home Stuart asks the color of the kettle and cannot say.

The diner smelled of coffee and fried onions, and every stool at the counter was taken.

A grey-haired waitress with two pencils behind her ears pointed me to the one empty table by the window.

"Sit anywhere, hon. That one's got the best light."

I sat.

My hands were still cold, and the envelope of divorce papers lay on the table in front of me.

I turned it face down.

A big man in a flour-dusted apron came out of the kitchen with a plate in each hand.

He set them in front of two men at the counter, then walked straight to my table.

He did not hand me a menu.

"Western omelet, no peppers, rye toast, and hot tea instead of coffee," he said.

I stared at him.

"I've never been here before."

"You were here Thursday, around ten," he said. "You ordered it then, and you looked like you wanted to be left alone."

Thursday I had come to buy a book for Stuart's mother, and I had needed a quiet half hour.

I had not noticed anyone watching me.

"You remembered that?"

"It's a small place," the man said. "Do you want the same today?"

I looked at the clock over the pie case.

It was past one in the afternoon.

"I want the same," I said. "But with the peppers."

He nodded once and wrote it on a pad.

"Peppers it is. I'm Seth."

"Elise."

He went back to the kitchen.

I had been married fourteen years to a man who could not tell you how I took my tea.

A stranger had learned it in one visit.

The waitress came with my tea and a slice of pie I hadn't ordered.

"On the house," she said. "You've got the look of a woman who walked into the courthouse and walked out with something."

She tapped the envelope with a short, blunt finger.

"I'm Dot. I've worked this floor for thirty years. I know that envelope."

"Is it that obvious?"

"The county seal is printed on the corner, hon."

I laughed, and then to my own surprise my eyes stung.

Dot put a napkin on the table without comment.

She waited until I had pressed it against each eye.

"Is he the kind who hits?"

"No."

"The kind who drinks?"

"No."

"The kind who doesn't see you," Dot said.

I looked up at her.

"I've poured coffee for that kind my whole life," she said. "They never mean to. That's what makes it worse."

I ate the omelet.

It was the best one I'd ever had, with peppers.

When I finished, I asked her something I had not planned to ask.

"I need someone to hand these papers to my husband tomorrow morning. It can't be me."

Dot did not even blink.

She turned and called across the diner.

"Deputy! You still on day shift?"

A man in a tan sheriff's deputy uniform looked up from his pie.

"Till six, Dot."

"Eight sharp tomorrow, a house on Maple. You're delivering something for this lady."

The deputy wiped his hands on a napkin and held one out for the envelope.

"Happy to," he said.

I gave it to him and gave him the address.

For the first time all day I could breathe.

Dot sat down across from me and folded her hands.

"Now, where are you going to sleep tonight?"

"Home," I said. "I'll sleep in the guest room."

"And tomorrow?"

"I haven't thought that far."

"There's a room upstairs," said Dot. "Own bathroom, own door, a window over the street. Two hundred a month and breakfast is included."

I opened my mouth to say that I couldn't.

Across the diner, Seth set a plate down and glanced our way for exactly as long as it took to look away again.

"I'll take it," I said.

Dot slid a key across the table.

It was on a red plastic tag that said ROOM 2.

"The papers go out at eight," she said. "You move in at nine."

I walked home in the late afternoon light with the key in my pocket and a hand over my stomach.

I wanted to tell the baby that we had a plan.

I did not, because I did not know yet how to say the word out loud.

Stuart got home at seven.

I was at the stove, making him a last dinner, because I could not make myself leave a pot of soup unfinished.

He walked in humming.

He dropped his keys on the counter, kissed the air near my cheek, and went to the refrigerator.

He opened it, looked in, and shut it again.

"Good day?" he said, not turning around.

"Long," I said.

"Mine was amazing. The scene finally clicked. Sydney's incredible."

He talked for ten minutes about Sydney, and not once about me.

He was still talking when he picked up the kettle on the stove and frowned at it.

"Hey, did we always have a green kettle?"

I turned off the burner.

"It's yellow," I said. "It has been yellow for nine years."

He held it up to the light.

"Huh," he said. "It looks green."

I stood there with a wooden spoon in my hand, and for one second I felt sorry for him.

Then I remembered the couch, and the pad, and what he had asked about her hands.

"Eat your soup, Stuart," I said. "It's your last."

← Chapter 1 · All chapters · Chapter 3 →

Want to keep talking to characters like these? Chat with AI romance characters: AI Boyfriend · AI Girlfriend · Dark Romance · Fantasy Romance · BL (Boys’ Love) · Billionaire Boyfriend · Mafia Boyfriend · Possessive Boyfriend · Hockey Boyfriend · Older Boyfriend · K-Drama Boyfriend · Anime Boyfriend · Vampire Boyfriend · Werewolf Boyfriend · Demon Boyfriend · Fae Romance · GL (Girls’ Love) · Anime Girlfriend · Goth & Alt Girlfriend · Gamer Girlfriend · Tsundere Girlfriend · Fantasy Girlfriend