Wednesday 9 May 2018

The would-be sugar poet.

Progress. I didn't cry when I left my new job today. I have a nametag now. It says BRIDGET. When no one is looking I'm going to steal the labelmaker and print one that says BABY.

Just because.

When I got home after the lunch rush there were trucks all over the place again, doing a few little things we noticed after they left that weren't completed so I had to drive all the way down to the end of the driveway and park between the side door and Dalton's patio. My legs hurt and I wanted to lie down and his was the nearest bed from the car so I went into their suite and into Duncan's room, throwing myself on the bed, legs hanging out over the end, heavy black shoes and label still in place. The apron is balled up in my purse, which is now on the floor.

I pull the quilt up over my head, close my eyes and when I open them next Duncan is lying beside me, smiling.

Can I get a refill? He asks and I bean him with one of his pillows.

No. We're closed. 

Do you have to do this, Bridget? What if I...I mean, I can give you money if you need it. 

I'm not doing it for the money. Well, not yet. I'm doing it for the hustle. 

Also you smell like burned strawberry pie. 

Fancy that. As it happens, the cook burned one today. And you should save your money. 


If it means you don't have to do this, I'm fine with it. We'll make our own arrangement. 

Why don't you want me there? 

It isn't the diner in particular, it's just working in general. You're easily overwhelmed. 

Lochlan doesn't think so. 

That so? And what does Lochlan think? Tell me. 

He's so proud. He thinks this is good for me. So does Ben. I get out of my own head. I help others and I can sharpen my skills. 

You going to rob them while you serve them lunch? Or maybe walk a tightrope?

Not those skills, Dunk. 

What skills then, Bridge?

Blending into society better than I do now. 

Oh. So is everyone on board with this? Any detractors or am I alone here?

You're not alone. Caleb has forbidden me to work. 

And?

I will continue to defy him. 

He'll buy the restaurant. 

Oh, probably. But if he does that I'll fire the cook and I'll never burn the pies I make. So it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.