Beware of James

The yellow sun was slowly creeping its way over the sleepy town of Janesville, Iowa. Pretty soon the residents would start getting up and heading out to their menial lives. I had been up way before the sun, wiping down the tables of the local diner and preparing for the morning rush.

Small town folks live for their morning coffee.

Murray’s Diner was the only one of two diners in the area. Janesville was so small that we don’t even have a Starbucks. Not that we needed one, of course.

Patting down my crumpled apron, I eyed the mustard stain on my pocket — the same stain that had been there since four years ago, when I had first started waitressing and the apron was handed down by the woman who had quit before me.

Those days I used to dream about getting out of this sleepy town. Those days I dreamt of being a singer slash journalist slash philanthropist who would spend her days road-tripping to California with an attractive man behind the wheel. Those were the days.

Nowadays, however, I just wanted something salvageable — something tangible, so when I die, I will be able to look back at my life with a happy grin and think: I did that; that is my legacy.

All I could possibly hope for now is a simple life with my soul-mate and maybe a child or two, just being happy. I felt I deserved that much.

Even though I was barely twenty-two, small-town girls were meant to marry young and have four children before the ripe age of thirty— or, at least, that was what my mother always told me.

Sighing, I managed to drag myself away from those thoughts and back to the task at hand: opening Murray’s Diner. I pulled my brown curls up into a ponytail and flipped the ‘Closed’ sign to ‘Open’, being sure to flick open my notepad as soon as the first customer came in.

I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Good morning James. The usual?” I scrawled ′one large cup of coffee′ down on my pad then spared him a look, the same look I always spared him every morning. Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I slipped my pencil behind my ear as I studied him.

James Delatori was a brooding, silent man with a thick halo of sandy brown curls and deep brown eyes. His face was something that dripped European aristocracy and his prominent features had been one of the things our high school girls gossiped and flushed over. In fact, I bet the girls at Janesville Highstillgossiped about the man, even after all these years. I smiled at the idea.

I remembered him back in high school. James had not changed in the slightest. There was something about him that gave me the sense that he hated everyone and everything in this town. He was Janesville’s biggest mystery.

The most mysterious thing about him was the fact that he refused to talk. He wasn’t deaf, nor was he mute. He just didn’t talk.

There’s an urban legend that if he liked you, he would say something to you. The fact that our small town circulated legends around the Delatori family definitely spoke wonders on how nosey the people here were.

As I peered into his stone brown eyes, he simply tore away from my gaze and flipped open his book of the month.

He has yet to say one word to me.

Shrugging, I tore the piece of paper from my pad and tossed it into the bin. I hummed a light melody, breaking the silence of the morning as I grabbed a ceramic mug and filling it to the brim with the thick, charcoal colored liquid. I slid it over to him with a small grimace. Coffee had to be the worst thing in the world. Even the smell of it made me feel dirty. Not to mention the taste.

James only nodded at me and pulled the mug to his lips, never taking his eyes off of his novel, probably assuming that the coffee had come from an invisible troll. At least, that’s how I felt he saw me.

The tiny jingle of a bell signaled another customer as they stalked through the paint-chipped front door. I had also memorized who this would be and grinned immediately at the sound.

“Hey, Jim!” I called, pulling the pad from my pocket and walking behind the bar as Jim lowered himself down with a heavy sigh and a groan. He rolled his shoulders and a series of pops and cracks followed.

“Good morning, Daphnie,” he said. Jim Hanks was a kind, old man with laugh lines that sprouted out from his grey eyes and sun spots that littered his skin from the relentless hours he spent in the field. His, once black, mustache was peppered with more grey and white than the original color, and what was left of his thinning, white hair was tucked away under his dirty red cap. “Glad to see you’re looking cheerful.”

I pushed some loose curls, that had managed to escape my ponytail, behind my ear and nodded. “Well, what about you? Your birthday was yesterday. You promised to come in, you know. I had a pecan pie slice all prepared and everything. The big seven - zero is nothing to sneer at.” I winked, eyes straying over towards James. His eyes were still trained on his book as if he was in his own secluded world.

Jim groaned once more and stretched himself out on the barstool, making a point to express how old he truly felt. While never really being a man who aged ‘gracefully’, he still barely looked a day over sixty-five, even with his deep wrinkles and years worth of beer belly. “Oh, don’t go reminding me, hun.”

Chuckling to myself, I slipped my pencil out from behind my ear and pressed it against the pad, eyeing him carefully as he stroked his stubbled chin, reading over the menu in thought. “All right, so I’m guessing you want the house special with a cup of black coffee, two sugars —hold the cream— and a side of hush puppies?”

Jim tapped a finger to his thick mustache and grimaced with a heavy sigh. “I’ll be damned. Hush puppies do sound good right now, but Molly’s been getting on me with the cholesterol.” He folded his hands over the sticky bar with a playful frown. “You know how she is.” He folded up the menu and handed it back to me with a wink. “Everything sounds fine, hon. Just hold the hush pups.”

“You should listen to Molly more; good for you.” I winked back at him as I tucked the menu under my arm and scribbled down his order. Turning towards the kitchen shelf, I ripped the paper from my pad and clipped it up on the line. As soon as I rang the bell on the counter, David, the chef, was on the order.

Picking back up on the tune I had been humming earlier, I poured him a cup of coffee and grabbed two sugars, sliding them over. “You know, Daph . . . you are a pretty gal,” Jim muttered to me as I grabbed his plate of eggs and bacon from the shelf.

“Thank you, glad to see you think so.” There was a soft, half-smile playing at the corner of my lips as I set the plate down in front of him, tossing over a bottle of ketchup. All the back and forth was beginning to strain my hip, so I leaned against the counter for a quick rest.

Jim furrowed his brow. “No, I’m serious. Why aren’t you settled down?”

“Well, Jim,” I paused, feeling a second pair of eyes on me. I felt slightly pressured to carefully consider my answer now that James was paying attention. I rubbed my brow and smiled politely, placing my hands on the countertop. “I guess I just haven’t found the right one. But, I do have a date tonight.”

Jim perked up at this, while in the corner of my eyes I watched as James’s eyes darted from my face with mild interest then back down to his book, losing all sense of curiosity. “Really? Let me see, is it Tommy? You know . . . I’m not entirely sure about that boy, he’s always making a ruckus around town with those friends of his . . .” Jim let his voice trail off, allowing his silence to speak louder than his words could.

I shook my head, grabbing a damp cloth from the sink and walking out from behind the bar to prep the booths. Soon it would be seven in the morning and families would be coming in before school. As I wiped down a table, Jim turned on his seat and watched me, waiting patiently for my reply.

“Nope, not Tommy. But, I will say that he and I went out before —back in high school— and it will never happen again. That boy is only out for one thing.” I rolled my eyes and Jim only chortled, biting a chunk out of his buttered bread. “No, tonight it’s Howard.”

“Howard?” Jim scoffed and wiped the crumbs from his facial hair, face shriveled in a look of distaste. I tried not to laugh at the way his nose was scrunched sideways. “The sheriff’s boy? Excuse my French, hon. But that boy’s a pussy.”

James snorted into his coffee, his gaze lazily watching the two of us intently before he lost interest once more and flipped the page on his book. I huffed at this and pushed fallen hair back once more, taking extra care to scrub a suspicious stain from the leather booth seat.

James’s snort had caught Jim’s attention and, naturally, Jim turned to him with the look of an epiphany on his weathered face. “Well . . . wait just a moment. What about you, boy? James, right? I hear you aren’t a wimp. Sure all the women are against your past, but to hell with ’em. I say — I say we need more guys like you in this town.”

Arching a brow, I shot James a special look from across the small diner, waiting for a response. Maybe he would speak, wouldn’t that be something.

James just looked over to Jim and rose a brow, a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.

Jim chuckled heartily and clapped James on the back. “Yes, you’re perfect — don’t talk too much, and don’t need to. Ain’t that right, Daph?” Directing the conversation towards me, I once again felt pressured to carefully think about how to answer as a small blush crept up my neck.

He was clearly amused, I could tell by the way James’s eyes traveled over the room and landed on mine, making my stomach twist and tie up into knots. I couldn’t speak in fear of sounding like a little school girl, so I only nodded my head quickly, trying to play it off, but most likely crashing and burning.

The sound of the bell ringing on the door was my salvation.

“Welcome to Murray’s,” I squeaked, giving the small family a nervous grin that they returned with a happy wave. The Johnson’s were always a nice family.

This was my town. The town where everyone knows everyone; the town where Jim tries to matchmake me with guys every now and again. This was the first time he had tried pushing me off on James though, and it was actually quite a surprise.

It also made me feel pretty pathetic. Now I was so unwanted that old men had to play matchmaker for me.

It was around noon when Kelly, my best friend, came into the diner, her little Benji clinging to her shirt-front like a lost puppy. “Hey there little guy, you want me to cook you up some chicken tenders?” I cooed at the five-year-old, who was still very shy around people outside of his family.

She smiled down at her son and detangled his arms from her nice, yellow top that managed to bring out the flax color of her hair. She seemed exhausted but found the ability to balance her kid and her lunch break at the same time.

Kelly brushed her blonde bangs away from her eyes as she sat her son down on one of the bar stools, eyeing James wearily before scooting Benji down a few more seats, leaving a wide gap. Not that James noticed, and even if he did, he didn’t seem to care in the slightest. “Howdy Daph. How’s your day been?”

“Long.” I heaved a sigh, giving James a small look and noticing that his mug had been drained once more. Grabbing the coffee pot, I went to fill it, his sixth cup of the day. Though my eyes were trained on Kelly, I luckily looked down a few seconds before pouring; he’d covered the opening of his cup with his hand and gave me a sharp look.

I offered him a sharp look back and I threw my hand on top of my hip. “Oh, so you’re done now?”

James simply shifted his eyes back down to his novel and removed his hand, slipping back into his own little world.

I watched from the corner of my as Kelly puckered her raspberry lips and gave him a side glance of distaste. ShepatBenji on the head and handed him a juice pouch to keep him busy when she turned back to me. “I don’t like the fact that you work here all the time, Daphnie. You need to get out more, see the world and get a man.”

I groaned and tossed my head back, my ponytail swaying as I sagged my shoulders. “What? A man like Greg?” I clamped my mouth shut, regretting that as soon as those words left my mouth.

Kelly’s gaze turned to stone and she straightened herself out, flinging her tired blonde curls behind her back. “You know that isn’t fair. Greg was a mistake, but you know what? I got something real good out of his leavin’. I got my little man right here.” She turned towards her son and gave him a light pinch on his cheek, making the boy giggle. “Ain’t that right, Benji?”

“That’s right Mama,” he chirped and slurped his juice happily, baby green eyes holding all the joy in the world.

I rubbed at my forehead, scrunching up my forehead as I apologized to her. “I know, I know. I’m sorry Kelly — it’s just the meds I guess. It’s just been one of those days.”

Her face dropped from honest anger to worry in a heartbeat, massaging circles over her temples. “I’m sorry, is the pain okay today? You know you should really go see the Doc again.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “No, no I’ll be fine. The check-up isn’t for another few weeks anyway.” The sound of a chair scraping against laminate flooring made me jump slightly. My eyes to strayed over towards the, now vacant, seat James was occupying.

Kelly turned and watched him leave, not taking her eyes off of his broad back until he had mounted his sleek red motorcycle and was halfway down the street. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, Daphnie. That man . . . I don’t like the way he looks at you. Beware of James.”

Placed discreetly under the ceramic mug, was a ten dollar bill.

/ / /

this story, full disclosure, is going to be a general romance. it’s a change of pace for me, but, I’m hoping that it will give me a wider range to pitch my work. Hope you guys enjoy it!