Home > Hairpin Curves(3)

Hairpin Curves(3)
Author: Elia Winters

   Grumbling to herself, Scarlett watched the video again, zooming in on part of it, and leaned back under the sink again to start her work back up. She could do this.

   “How’s it coming?”

   Jacen’s voice drew Scarlett out from under the sink a while later, right when she was putting the last piece into place. She wiped her arm across her forehead. Ugh, she was going to need a whole additional shower after doing this. “I think I’ve got it.” She pushed up to her feet, unsteady after so long on the floor. Her roommate was staring at her, frowning but also looking a little curious.

   “You really fixed it? I was kidding about the YouTube thing.”

   “I fixed it. You look way too nice to have just rolled out of bed.” Scarlett looked him up and down. Jacen had the whole “casual chic” look happening, from his skinny jeans to his snug T-shirt, its deep cobalt blue bringing out the rich undertones in his dark brown skin. He had pulled his black dreadlocks back with a blue cloth headband to match, and had finished out the look with a leather jacket.

   “Zayne’s picking me up in an hour. We’re going to the movies. I wanted to look nice.” He struck a pose. “This is good, right?”

   “Gorgeous. I look like I took a bath in our sink. But look.” Scarlett flipped a switch and the garbage disposal roared to life, draining the brown water away in a whirlpool. “Très sexy, non?”

   “Magnifique.” Jacen chef-kissed his fingers. “What about you? Are you going out with—” he blanched, probably remembering she was single “—anyone?” he finished, somewhat weakly.

   “No dates for me.” Scarlett started packing up her tools. Ever since she and Gwen had broken up a few weeks ago, she’d struggled to find the motivation to go anywhere. With a freelance job that she could do from home, this was a recipe for not leaving the house much.

   “You want to come out with Zayne and me?” Jacen gestured vaguely toward the door. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

   “No, I don’t want to be your third wheel. That—” she gestured to his outfit “—is clearly clothing for a date. I have work to do tonight, anyway. And a video chat.”

   Jacen frowned again. “You okay? This isn’t like you, home on a Friday, video chatting instead of going out. I swear, you’re here all the time, now.”

   “I live here, Jacen.” She carried the tools she’d used back to the closet, then stripped out of her shirt on her way to take a shower.

   “Well, let me know if you change your mind about coming with us,” Jacen hollered down the hall. “I don’t like to see you moping.”

   “I’m not moping!” She left her clothes on her bedroom floor and locked herself in the bathroom, in part just so she wouldn’t have to continue that conversation. Sure, yeah, she’d been moping, but that wasn’t Jacen’s problem.

   She took her hair down to rinse it, massaging her scalp with her fingertips. With the warm water running over her body, she could close her eyes and relax, if only the tension that had settled into her muscles these last few weeks would go away. It wasn’t money; she never had enough of that, but always managed to get by. And she didn’t want to think that it was Gwen. They hadn’t been good for each other, despite making a healthy attempt at a relationship, and the breakup was the right move. Missing her was normal. But she wasn’t actually missing Gwen as much as that physical closeness. Cuddling on the sofa to watch a movie. Spooning together in bed. Kissing, pressing against each other, hands and mouths bringing sweet, mindless pleasure. All that was gone, and her bed was empty.

   Scarlett stood beneath the water until it began to run cold, then reluctantly got out and toweled off. Silence in the house meant Jacen had left. She put on fuzzy pajamas, even though it was the middle of the afternoon, and flopped down on the couch. Her phone stared at her, blank. No one was calling or texting. Gwen came to mind again, and she grimaced. She had better find some way to shake off this funk. In the meantime, though, she had work to do. She pulled her laptop over with a sigh.

 

* * *

 

   “Closing?” Megan had to repeat the word just to make sure she’d heard Winston right. “As in, no more Starlite Diner, forever?”

   Winston rested his wrinkled hands on his desk and smiled sadly at Megan across the cluttered surface. His blue eyes turned down at the edges, the smile not reaching them. “We made it through Christmas, and that’s as far as the Missus and I were hoping to take things. I’m sure you’ve seen this day coming.”

   She hadn’t, but she didn’t want to tell him that. Obviously she hadn’t expected the Starlite to stay open forever, but Winston and Martha hadn’t given any hints of retiring. Well, other than the travel brochures that had been piling up on the desk...and the shortened business hours after the holiday...and the way Winston had started photographing the place and sighing wistfully after the New Year.

   Oh.

   Nodding, Winston leaned back in his chair. “We’ve had a good run, all of us, and you’ve been darn indispensable these past few years, but we got an offer from the Winn-Dixie that’s too good to turn down.”

   “When?” Her voice cracked, and she tried again. “When are you closing?”

   “End of the month.”

   The end of the month. That month. January. Megan’s mind tipped on its axis, like her whole center of gravity had shifted, and she wrapped her hands around the arms of the chair. She’d been here for nearly ten years. Ten years. The Starlite had been her first job, a part-time dishwashing gig when she was still too young to get a job almost anywhere, slowly increasing in hours and responsibility as she got older. When Scarlett quit to take a job at the grocery store, Megan had continued at the Starlite. After college, without any immediate job prospects in Communications, at least none that didn’t require leaving the area, the Starlite had taken her on full-time. She couldn’t picture her life without these too-early mornings, brewing coffee before dawn and setting out paper placemats and silverware for the regulars.

   Megan loosened her grip on the armrests, taking a breath and trying to regulate her tumult of emotions. “Have you thought about trying to find new owners? Instead of closing it?”

   Winston chuckled. “Oh, we talked about it. Wondered if you might want to buy the place.”

   If she had the money, maybe she would. She leaned forward to say so, then froze, mouth slightly open. This was only supposed to be a temporary job. The fact that a temporary job had grown to a nine-plus-year commitment was not because she loved it.

   Winston barely paused, seemingly oblivious that she was about to speak and had stopped. “Martha told me, she said the worst thing we could do is try and saddle you with this place for the rest of your life. Restaurant’s on its last legs, Megan. You’ve seen it. We’ve all seen it. No, the Winn-Dixie wants the space, and we’re giving it to them. For a pretty penny, that is.”

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