A Nighthawk at the Diner

When the she spoke, still walking, now about in the middle of the diner, her voice was almost saccharine in its sweetness. “Jerry, could I talk to you in my office, dear?” She glanced at Andrea with daggers in her eyes. “This will only take a moment, ma’am.”

Jerry leaned down to Andrea and whispered, his voice raspy. “You’d better go. That’s the manager, my boss.”

Andrea got up quickly, nodding. She hurried out the door as Jerry and the woman walked into the back. As Andrea stepped into the chilly street, she could hear the muted sounds of angry shouts from the back of the diner, though she couldn’t make out any words.

Andrea walked home in a blur.

She was sober before she could finally get to sleep.

Wednesday

The morning felt gritty on Andrea’s eyelids when the alarm shouted into her ear. She dragged herself out of bed and across the apartment with an effort of will, scattering nightshirt and panties somewhere unseen along the path as she went. The sudden light in the bathroom as she flipped on the switch blinded her, and she rubbed at her eyes dreamily. When her hands parted she found herself staring at something unexpected.

She was smiling.

Her face was tired, and the noticeable dark circles of sleeplessness were still there. But the corners of her mouth tricked upward in an unmistakable smile. She stared at herself for a minute, realizing that she felt good. Tired, but good.

I look good, too, she thought. She ran her hands through her tousled, tangled hair, pulling out the hidden knots, and over her neck and shoulders. Nice shoulders, after all, clear-skinned and fine-boned. She ran her fingers further, over her round breasts. They were average, not huge, but they were nicely-formed, symmetrical over her tight, flat stomach. Her light-brown nipples speared perfectly forward, large and prominent in the chilly morning air, and she brushed them with the fingertips of her hand.

She suddenly thought of the previous night, and covered her breasts with her hands in a moment of self-consciousness. She looked around, almost expecting someone to be watching her, admiring herself alone in her bathroom. She felt silly.

Still, she thought, as she turned on the hot water and stepped into the bathtub,I do look pretty good.

The day went by in a merciful blur. There was a distinct feeling of rush in the office, and the work piled up faster than she could deal with it. At the end of the day, Andrea honestly didn’t know if she had gotten anything done at all. Mandy was too busy to grill her again about her sleep and her health. Andrea was grateful for that; Mandy was a good friend, but she really didn’t want to answer any questions at the moment.

She arrived home exhausted. She tossed her purse at the table, missing, and stalked to her bed to fall over into it. Her energy drained out of her, pulled down through the mattress by gravity.

Sleep or not, she thought, I’m not moving.

It felt like hours that she lay there. It was probably only a few minutes, she knew later. All the little discomforts of the day rose up. Her feet hurt from her shoes. Her bra-strap was cutting into her shoulder. Eventually, she pulled herself up off of the bed to a sitting position and pulled off her shoes. Her toes breathed a tangible sigh of relief.

She ambled slowly over to her closet and hung up her jacket and skirt as she took them off. Her blouse and bra went in the pink plastic basket beside the closet, and her nylons went on the floor beside the basket. She massaged her shoulders and sides where the bra had been cutting into her skin, and pulled her worn panda-adorned T-shirt off of the coffee table where it had landed that morning. She dropped the shirt over her head, smelling the old-shirt smell and her own skin on it.

She looked back over at the bed. Wouldn’t you know it, she thought.After all this activity, I’m not sleepy any more. She was tired, but she didn’t feel like sleeping. At least she was more comfortable.

She wandered the apartment. She lay down on her short sofa and kicked her feet up on the arm to watch some television. She turned the television off and stared at the ceiling. She painted her fingernails and toenails. Red. She went into the bathroom and shaved her legs over the bathtub. Afterward, she lay on the couch again and ran her hands over her now perfectly smooth legs, searching for spots she missed. At a sudden thought, she hiked up her skirt and pulled her panties down over her hips. Running her fingers thoughtfully through the dark tangle of hair there, she returned to the bathroom and gave it a little trim. Nothing drastic, just enough so that she could wear a bathing suit if she wanted. A very small bathing suit. In the winter.

What am I doing? Nails, legs, and… Why am I going to all this work when no one’s even going to see it?

Still holding the razor, a crazy thought occurred to her.I wonder what it would feel like if I shaved the whole thing? Her sudden blush, in the privacy of her own bathroom, was so silly that she had to giggle. She put the razor up and rinsed herself off, then walked out and slipped her panties back on.

She threw herself onto her bed, angry that she couldn’t feel sleepy. Really, she thought. Who on Earth am I trying to impress, anyway? The thought brought Jerry’s eyes to her mind, the color of a storm at sea. Andrea blushed again at the thought, thinking of how he had been looking at her.

I barely know him.

Her skin tingled and felt warm as she remembered how she realized that he had been able to see down her shirt. Again, she was aware of her breasts, but now she was alone in her own apartment.

It was just a one-time thing.

She swallowed and licked her lips thoughtfully at the memory of the kiss. She glanced down at her body. Her nipples were fully visible through the white fabric of her shirt. She raised a hand and softly touched one hard nipple through her shirt. The touch sent an electric shock through her body.

She pulled the covers over her, rolled over on her stomach and closed her eyes. And tried to sleep.

His face kept coming back to her. His full lips, his friendly smile. The momentary feel of his lips on hers. Even as the apartment cooled off in the night, she felt warmer and warmer under the blankets. The more she tried to stop thinking about him, the more that very intent summoned him to her mind. Momentary images flashed through her head, curiosities rose up like whispering demons.What would his arms feel like around her. What did he look like naked.

Andrea became guiltily aware that she was lying with one arm under her, her hand under her hips. Directly under her groin. She felt very hot there. She moved her hand slightly, pressing into the soft mound, and could feel more heat. She closed her eyes tightly shut and moved her fingers slightly lower, and pressed again. A warm sensation of pleasure spread through her hips as she felt herself find the hard little spot there in the center. She massaged slowly and gently through the fabric of her panties, already breathing hard into the pillow.

But I just met him.

Her body let her know that it really didn’t care. The heat built up like a volcano in her hips, and she could feel her moisture slowly soak through the cloth. Guilt gave way to need, and she pushed her hand down into her panties to touch herself directly. She pressed two fingers between her swollen lips, and reached down to pull up some of the moisture that was seeping from her. She rubbed her lubricated fingertips vigorously against the hard pearl of her clitoris. Her hands seemed to be moving on their own. Her other hand reached under her body, cupping a breast and rolling the nipple gently between her thumb and fore-finger

It went on forever. Her body took all of her attention and demanded more. She even went so far as to push a fingertip slightly into herself. She could feel her body clamp onto her finger, and she felt a momentary full sensation, and pulled out, rubbing against herself again.

How long has it been since something’s been in there, she thought.

And then it was over. She lay there, breathing hard, wondering whether she had come or not. She was sore and exhausted. But she didn’t remember any great throes of orgasm like she had had in the past. It had felt good, she supposed.

The guilt caught up with her with a vengeance, and she got out of bed to go shower. She felt dirty.

After the shower, she got dressed and went out. But this time, she put on a bra. And makeup. She even checked herself out in the mirror, although she felt ridiculous.

It was 11:55.

The bell sang its little tune, its only trick, as Andrea walked into the diner. Once again, she found Jerry alone at the counter. He looked up as she walked in and smiled at her. When she got close, she realized that she could smell his cologne, not strong, but noticeable. She didn’t remember whether he had been wearing any before.

Jerry was running a towel over the counter as she walked up. “So, how did you sleep? Did the whiskey work?”

Andrea thought,Oh, I think the whiskey worked. But she didn’t say that. “No. But I don’t think I had enough. It’s worth trying again, if you don’t mind.”

Jerry looked surprised. “Uh, sure, sure. You’re not just trying to get free booze out of me, are you?” He trotted back to the kitchen.

Andrea raised her voice slightly so he could hear her from the kitchen. “That depends. If I was, would you cut me off?”

Jerry reappeared with a brand new bottle. “I think that the day shift got into the opened bottle. I couldn’t find it. I grabbed another one from the case.”

Andrea shrugged. “Well, if you open up a new bottle, I know that you’re not slipping my anything in the whiskey.”

Jerry cracked open the bottle and poured some of the clear fluid into the bottom of a coffee mug. Then he filled it the rest of the way with decaf coffee and set it down in front of Andrea.

“Wow. I rate a real mug this time. I’ve left the world of Styrofoam behind.”

“Nothing’s too good for our regulars.” Jerry poured himself a mug, similarly fortified, with two sugars, and slipped the bottle under the counter. He bent over to arrange something down there to hide it, though Andrea couldn’t see what it was.

They raised their mugs. “To Gina’s Diner,” Andrea said impulsively. Jerry nodded.

Clink.

“So.” Andrea started. “I take it you still work here?”

Jerry rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Zoe is a hard woman to work for. She doesn’t like us fraternizing with the customers too much. She says that the diner is a business, not here for my personal pleasure, and that I’m being paid to work, not make out with…” He paused and winced at what he had been about to say. “Well, you get the picture. She told me that if it happens again, I’ll be looking for another job.”

Andrea sipped the coffee, not tasting it. She kept catching herself staring at Jerry. She kept noticing little things. The way his hair curled just slightly. The way he kept the spoon in his coffee so he could stir it before each time he sipped it. How she could just barely see her reflection in his eyes. She kept pulling her eyes away so that he wouldn’t notice.

He set his coffee down and put a hand on her wrist. “Andrea…”

Andrea put her own hand on top of his. “Are you going to bring up our kiss?” She said clearly. She couldn’t believe her boldness, and her face immediately felt hot.

Jerry looked surprised again, then glanced down at her hand and back up into her eyes, smiling. “Yeah. I’m that transparent, huh? I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

Andrea squeezed his hand. “Great minds think alike.”

Jerry laughed softly, and Andrea found herself laughing as well, just for a moment. They sipped their coffees again, emptied them, and Jerry filled them again. The silence rose up again as they each looked at the other. Jerry broke it at last. “Well?”

“Well what?” She felt like the air had become slightly heavier in the diner.

Jerry softly cleared his throat. “About what we were talking about…”

Andrea released his hand and walked around to the end of the counter, then walked behind the counter and right up to Jerry. His eyes were wide open in suspense. Andrea reached up to put a hand behind his neck, feeling her fingers run through the hair on the nape of his neck, and pull his head down to her. Her lips met his firmly but softly. She realized that her eyes were closed, and she felt his hands on her back, below the shoulder blades, holding her into him and pressing her breasts into his midsection.

The kiss lasted a brief eternity. She pulled back eventually, and drew an unsteady breath, opening her eyes to look directly into his. Her smile was wicked.

“I hope that that answers your question.”

Jerry lightened his hold on her. “Actually, I didn’t quite get that. If you could go over it again…”

She swatted at him playfully and pulled out of his embrace. “You think you’re funny, I suppose.” He leaned against the counter as if he was losing his balance.

“Well, some people laugh just looking at me.”

Andrea doubted that, but laughed anyway. Perhaps it was the drink. Or perhaps it was the company. Whatever it was, she felt warm throughout, in body and soul.

Jerry smiled, his dimples showing in his cheeks. “You know, I’m really having fun. I’d better be careful. I’m still at work.”

Andrea giggled. “What, is bartending like being a policeman? Discipline all the time on duty?” She picked up her coffee again and took a long sip, the whiskey spreading the warmth throughout her body. She set the coffee down again, perhaps too roughly, and the hot dark liquid splashed across the surface of the counter. Jerry winced and sucked in his breath as a few hot drops scalded his hand. He pulled the hand up and cradled it protectively in the other hand.

Without a thought, Andrea reached out and pulled Jerry’s scalded fingers to her lips. Jerry fought weakly, as if confused, as she kissed the still-hot drops of fortified coffee from his fingertips, gently and carefully cleaning and soothing them. She only realized she was doing it a moment after she started, and her eyes opened with slight surprise. His fingers tasted of salt, coffee, whiskey, and something else.

Jerry was stunned. He opened his mouth, as if he was about to talk, but open it remained, as Andrea kissed his fingertips clean. Then, not pulling his hand from hers, he raised his other hand to gently touch her hair at her temple, stroking so softly that she could barely feel the movement on her face. Andrea cradled Jerry’s big hand in both of her delicate hands and moved forward. She closed her eyes as she felt the tip of his nose brush hers, and she gently kissed the lower lip of his open mouth. He tasted of coffee and tobacco smoke.

Suddenly, Jerry stiffened. Andrea fought for a moment as he pulled away. “Whoa, sorry… I just saw Zoe’s car pull into the parking garage. If she sees you here, I’m toast.”

“What’s she gonna do? I’m a paying customer.” Andrea could feel a good burn of anger starting, fed by the frustration of an interrupted kiss.

Jerry glanced around nervously, almost dancing with anxiety. “If you walk out the front door, she’ll see you. Man…”

Andrea sighed. She looked about, and saw the answer. This is not happening, she whispered, but stooped down into the hollow beneath the counter. “Just make sure that she leaves without coming back here where she can see me, okay?”

Jerry nodded quickly but uncertainly and stepped in front of her. With all of the cleaning equipment and boxes under the counter, Andrea was basically boxed into a small space, with just enough room to kneel upright. She grabbed a folded towel to kneel on, as she heard the front door opening.

God, she thought. This is just too much like a bad sitcom. It was her penance, though, for falling for a wimp with a shrew for a boss.

The stilt-tapping of Zoe’s high heels rapped its way across the hardwood floor of the empty diner in perfect time. Her voice was muted to Andrea’s ears by the thick wood of the counter.

“How’s business been, Jerry?” Zoe’s voice was softer than it had been before. Perhaps apologetic. Andrea could hear the soft whisk of Jerry wiping the counter. The coffee, of course. She got a chill, but realized that coffee was a perfectly normal thing to find on the counter.

“About normal. It is almost one A.M., you know. What brings you around?” Jerry’s voice was a little high with nervousness.

Andrea quickly glanced upward, trying to see around Jerry’s legs toward the mirror behind the bar. If she can see me in that mirror, she thought, I will just die. Caught hiding under a counter in a diner. She thought a moment, but couldn’t imagine anything off the top of her head that would be more humiliating.

Fortunately, she couldn’t see the mirror from where she was. And that meant that, assumedly, Zoe wouldn’t see her in it.The angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection, she chanted silently in her head. It didn’t sound quite right, but it calmed her down.

Andrea head the plunk of Zoe setting her purse down on the counter, then the whisking sound of her skirt as she lifted herself up to sit on one of the high stools. “What am I going to do with you, Jerry?”

Jerry paused, something caught in his throat. “What… uh, what do you mean?”

“Nothing. Can I get some coffee?” Andrea imagined that Zoe sounded sad for a moment.

Maybe she can’t sleep either, Andrea thought. We’re like the Nighthawks at the Diner. That painting… who painted that? The drink rose to her head at the thought, and she had to cover her mouth to suppress a giggle at the thought of Jerry dressed up like James Dean in the popular re-make of the painting. Would that make her Marilyn Monroe, or Humphrey Bogart? She rocked forward uncontrollably in her attempt to control her laughter, and her forehead bumped into Jerry’s thigh. He yelped, and tried to disguise it as part of his answer.

“I… uh, sure.” It was fortunate that the coffee was right there by Jerry’s side. Otherwise, he would have had to make an excuse why his boss couldn’t have coffee. Andrea realized that she was having fun.

There was a rustling of papers, then Zoe’s voice again. “I have the inventory sheets. You can check them before you go off shift. If you don’t finish, give them to Mark when he gets in. There are some errors here, I already noticed. Let me go over the forms for you.”

Andrea sighed silently and brushed a stray hair out of her eyes. The woman was going to be here forever. Andrea’s face felt hot from the alcohol and blinked, instantly bored by the financial talk. She leaned her head forward, onto Jerry’s leg, for stability. Jerry’s leg tightened, but he didn’t move or flinch noticeably like last time. Andrea smiled. It’s your fault, Jerry, that I’m down here. I think that you can stand to suffer a bit.

Zoe’s voice droned on. “I ordered twenty pounds of sugar, but then it turned out that the company measures it in kilograms…”

“Uh huh…” Jerry sounded about as enraptured as Andrea.

Andrea ran the fingertips of one hand along Jerry’s knee, from the outside to the inside, along the top. His knee trembled just slightly through the fabric of his Dockers, and he reached a hand down surreptitiously to push Andrea away. Andrea caught the hand momentarily with her other hand and kissed one of his fingertips.

As Zoe continued on, Andrea traced a soft line up Jerry’s thigh with her fingers, very slowly. Jerry tensed. His gulp was almost audible, but Zoe must not have noticed, because she didn’t so much as pause. “…And next month, we have to remember to order only half normal olives…”

Andrea grinned. She felt deliciously evil. She’d never done anything like this. She would never have done anything like this sober, for that matter. Her fingers made a slow figure eight on Jerry’s leg. He pulled his hand up above the counter, having relented in the fight for the moment. That was no fun. He was supposed to suffer. Andrea furrowed her brow in mock consternation, even though no one was looking. Well, he was a guy…