Raindrop Kisses

A dank chill crept in from the wet icy slush sprawled over the outside window ledge. It slithered through each gaping crack around the thin window panes, falling past the rusting radiator to the scuffed hardwood floor below. The icy phone chilled Jill's delicate fingers as she held the receiver to her ear.

"No, Mother, I'm fine." She struggled to force some indication of resolve into her weak voice. Awkwardly, she tugged with her other hand at the cuff of her thinning sweater sleeve, trying to stretch it far enough to keep her hand a little warmer.

She peered out at the street. The sky hung low and heavy with dark clouds blustering in rolling turmoil.

"But I do have a boyfriend," she insisted, the cracking in her voice betraying her even as she spoke the words. "His name's... Roger," she coughed a little to cover her hesitation. She stared emptily over at the large billboard hanging from the front of the dirty, crumbling brick face across from her apartment. The famous English spy character's face stared brazenly back, inviting her to the old film festival.

"Yes, I'm thinking he'll probably propose to me soon, Mom. He seems very serious right now." She nodded vaguely. Shrugging she plopped herself down on the tattered sofa. "Yes Mom, I see him all the time. He's practically here when I wake up in the mornings. And... I'm meeting him at the movies this weekend. That could be fun."

She managed a quiet sigh that went unnoticed.

"I'm going to be fine, Mom, you shouldn't worry about me." She listened absently to the distant voice over the line. "No, don't try setting me up with your friend's nephew - it wouldn't be fair to Roger."

Throwing her head back she grumbled softly to herself. "He has a steady government job, mother. Yes, he's very secure. I'm sorry, but I need to get to work, okay? Please, try not to worry about me. I've only been here a few months, but I'm already making a lot of friends. Sylvia lives just downstairs, and she hardly ever lets me come or go without stopping to chat with me. Sometimes it's even annoying."

She shrugged a few more times as she listened. "Okay, Mom, I promise I'll come home for Christmas, and I promise I'll bring Roger with me. Now, I have to go. Goodbye Mom. Yes, I love you too."

The phone rattled a little as she set the receiver down. She drew a deep breath. Letting it out painfully slow, she pushed herself up from the couch and grabbed her work uniform from the hanger on the cracked wall.

She gave no more than a vague glance at the curtains that lay tattered and thin on the floor next to the window. They still had the dry plaster dust on them that sifted out of the gaping screw holes in the wall from when the drapes fell.

Gritting her teeth she pulled her sweater off and dropped her ragged jeans to the floor beside her drooping bed. The icy chill dug in quickly and she hurried to get into her cheery uniform, complete with a cheesy ball cap.

She could see in the mirror how thin she'd gotten. She stood up straight to get a good look. She smiled warmly at her reflection. Its reciprocated smile didn't seem sincere.

Her freezing nipples were erect, poking through her bra, and she hastily pulled the orange shirt over her arms and fastened the buttons, brushing once more at the mustard stain still visible on the cuff. She snapped an unraveled thread from her coat before slipping her arms into it, throwing on her worn shoes, and rushing out the door.

She struggled for several minutes with the lock as she walked out into the hallway, jiggling the door and her key in a wearying attempt to get the lock to work. At last it clicked into place and she turned and jostled down along the stairs.

"Hey missy!" Sylvia cried out as Jill tried to timidly slide by her door unnoticed. "You remember that the rent is due on Tuesday, right?"

Jill nodded. "Yes, I know," she offered a forced smile. "That should be no problem, I promise."

"It better not be," Sylvia barked, stuffing a dangling cigarette between her yellowed teeth. "I don't like you tramps living here at all, but if you don't pay on time I have every right to kick your sorry ass out of this place."

Jill twisted her body around so she could nod and call back with a meek "No problem," as she skittered out the creaking apartment building doors.

She heard Sylvia muttering behind her. The words were muffled, but Jill knew her usual remark was "I know a damned crack whore when I see one."

The cold was brutal, ebbing in even harder as the sun fell behind the smoggy, dark horizon to the west where it was already long lost behind blackened silhouettes of decaying buildings. Jill pulled her coat tighter around herself, trying desperately to stay warm. She kept chanting to herself that it was only a few blocks to work. And the dining area was certainly wet and chilled, but always warmer than her apartment.

She shook the slush from her frozen feet as she slipped in the diner's back door. The kitchen noises slapped harshly at her with a screech of clattering dishes and sizzle of searing grease. She held her breath as she stuffed her purse into a locker, wishing she didn't have to breathe in the biting smells of raw onion that mixed so horridly with the stench of meat that had fallen behind and beneath the heavy equipment and left to rot.

But soon she wheezed out her last breath of clean air before slipping her coat off. She shivered, wishing she'd had time still to warm up before getting to work. She shoved her coat into her locker and tossed her shoulders back. Forcing herself to take in a deep breath she stepped slowly along the short row of lockers.

As she came to his she hesitated, listening. Everyone was busy in the kitchen, scurrying about like rats desperate to escape a prowling cat.

She put a shivering hand on the handle of his locker, uneasily peering out through the doorway.

No one was coming.

Her heart skipped a quick beat as she thought of the recent night she'd worked with him. She was pulling off her coat when she watched him open his locker.

She yanked hastily on the handle, swinging the door quickly open. She glanced once at the picture, then peeked up at the doorway. She gave the small poster of the topless girl another quick look, the slender woman's perky nipples proudly exposed, then hurriedly closed the door and slipped unnoticed out into the hall.

Her heart raced for several minutes while she grabbed nervously at her pad and pen. She tried to burn the image of the young woman's supple porcelain breasts and blush red nipples into her brain. She closed her eyes briefly to memorize the taunting curve of her back and the swaying of the girl's long blond hair. She would want to recall every detail as she lay in bed alone later. She swallowed back at the torment before skipping out onto the floor.

"Always skip when you first walk out into the dining room," Todd insisted as often as he found opportunity. "It perks up your spirits and lightens your mood. You'll get better tips that way, I promise."

He was the boss, so every night Jill gritted her teeth and skipped out into the dining area.

During company meetings his leering eyes would settle on her and rove about her body. His stare would wedge through his thick glasses and glue itself obstinately on her breasts, as covered as they might be. Jill did what she could to avoid having to talk with him.

"Excuse me," a tall older man waved his hand to capture her attention. Jill smiled sweetly at him, propped up her pad, and wriggled her body over to take his order.

As usual the night dragged on endlessly. The painful cold blasted inside every time the front door opened, and Jill shivered harshly with every icy breeze. The diner was busy that night until late. At last, as the clock approached midnight, the final few customers sifted outside and were swallowed up in the darkness on the street. Jill slumped into a booth, laid her head down on the table, and rubbed at her aching legs.

"How'd you do with tips tonight, Jill?" Charles called out from behind the counter.

She looked up at him haplessly. "I've made more doing volunteer work," she quipped.

"You're a pretty girl, Jill," he said with a shrug. "And you're sweet, and a hard worker. But if you don't start flirting a little with the guys you're never going to bring in any tips."

She nodded, staring down at the dirty table. "I know," she whimpered. "I'm trying, I really am. But I just get so tired."

She held her stare on the table, but she knew well the pained look of understanding he was giving her right then.

Jill gritted her teeth as she heard the familiar noise of the bell on the front door. Someone was coming in. They chattered excitedly, hurrying into a corner booth across the dining room.

"Want me to just tell them we're closed?" Charles offered as he watched Jill's face fall. "It's late, almost closing time anyway."

She shook her head, trying to hide a pained grimace. "It's okay," she muttered, forcing her tired body to her feet. She dragged herself across the room, pen and pad in hand.

She felt the lump in her throat swell quickly as she looked up to see the group of young women bustling around the table. Excitedly they giggled and chattered in raucous teasing.

As Jill stepped up to the table they quieted and grinned at her.

"What can I get you ladies tonight?" Jill offered, forcing herself to stop teetering as she stood there.

"We'll each have a cup of hot cocoa," The one sitting closest to Jill chortled as she tussled her long, dark caramel-hued hair with one hand. "And I think we need some fries too, don't you guys?"

"Definitely," a blond girl chirped, softly slapping one hand on the table. As she gave a cheery smile her dimpled, pudgy cheeks nearly swallowed her eyes. "And I think I'd like some pie, too!"

"I want cherry pie with ice cream!" a slender girl with silky raven hair agreed, crossing her legs daintily beneath the table. Jill tried staring intently at her pad while she scribbled the order, but the exotic girl had startling honey eyes and lusciously high round cheekbones that were distracting to the point of being unsettling, and the scrawls quickly became illegible.

"It's freezing!" the redhead with brilliant sapphire eyes sitting next to the raven-haired beauty argued, shoving playfully. "Why in God's name would you want ice cream?"

"Because I like ice cream," she exclaimed defiantly, shoving back at the redhead girl.

"So," Jill tried hard to talk over the young girls' laughter, but she could barely hear herself, "that's five hot cocoas, one cherry pie a la mode, and what size fries would you like?"

"Okay," the first girl spoke up quickly, "I think we need at least two large orders of fries, with chili, and I want a coconut cream pie." She nudged the blond girl next to her. "Did you want some pie?"

"Absolutely!" the blond nodded suggestively. "And..." she looked up at Jill, who stared back at her with exhausted, glazed eyes.

"Girl," she shook her head, staring intently at Jill, "if you don't sit down you're going to fall right over."

The dark-haired girl looked up at Jill, an expression of sudden surprise on her face. "She's right - you're bone tired, sweetie. Hey," she looked quickly around, "that booth over there is large enough for all of us to sit."

Jill stood, stunned and confused, as the girls all pulled themselves up from the table. The girl with long, flowing blond hair grasped Jill's hand and tugged her across the room to the new booth, pushing her down into the seat before urging her to slide over into the middle of the bench that curved restrictively around the table.

Sitting felt fantastic.

"I can't sit over here," Jill laughed weakly. "I need to take the order up to the cook."

The thin girl with the long brown hair snatched Jill's hat from her head and the pad and pen from her enfeebled grasp. "Nope," she shook her head emphatically, her thick hair dancing over her shoulders. "Right now you sit there and try not to be too rowdy while I take your order, young woman!" She glared comically at the girls seated around the table. "I'm Terry, and I'll be your waitress for the evening. Okay, what'll it be tonight? Let's see," she glanced quizzically down at the pad, "we have five... no, six hot cocoas, one coconut cream pie, a cherry pie with ice cream," she gave the dark-haired girl a glaring eye, "weirdo," she giggled. "And, of course, two... make that three large orders of fries with chili."

"Oh, I can't afford to eat anything here," Jill whispered, raising her hand timidly.

"Don't worry about it darling," the blond girl next to her laughed. "Debbie's paying for the whole thing!"

"What?!" the red haired girl exclaimed in dismay. "Oh wait, I am," she laughed.

"I'd like some pecan pie," the girl with the wavy long blond hair chimed up as she scrunched her nose teasingly.

"Sandra gets the pecan pie," Terry nodded, scribbling quickly on her pad.

"Would you like some pie?" Sandra nudged Jill gently, her warmth rubbing softly against Jill's arm.

Jill shook her head with a shy smile. "Thanks, no," she shrugged. "I'm good." She sank slowly into the feeling of being encompassed by the young women, becoming a part of them.

"You're so thin you don't look like you've eaten in weeks," Debbie scolded her sweetly. "I'm paying, and I insist you have a slice of pie."

Jill grinned in spite of herself, but hesitated bashfully. At last she nodded. "I'll take a slice of apple," she agreed.

"Apple it is!" Terry scratched the words hastily on the thin pad. "Excellent choice. How about you, Allison?" she motioned with her pen to the girl with the short blond hair.

"No pie for me tonight," Allison grimaced. "I gotta lose a couple of pounds."

Terry raised her eyebrows. "Oh, sweetie you're getting pie tonight!"

Allison coughed a little to cover a nervous laugh.

Debbie's eyes roamed over the counter, searching hard. "Hey, is there any cheesecake here?" she asked eagerly.

"Not yet," Allison grinned.

Jill shook her head. "Sorry, we don't have any. Except that we do have a cheesecake Danish, if you want."

"Hmm," Debbie grunted thoughtfully with a cute tilt of her head. Her soft full lips pouted heavily. "Maybe I'll do a slice of pecan, too."

"Will there be anything else tonight?" Terry chimed up friskily, jotting down Debbie's order.

"I think that will do it," The girl with the raven hair rubbed her hands briskly together. Jill glanced up across the table at her, at last allowing her eyes to take in the young girl's dark long eyelashes that swirled up tastily over those stunning eyes. She glanced down along the girl's long swaying hair, gentle full cheeks, and the thin soft wisps of dark hair that curled tauntingly over the skin of her neck.

"I'll bet the new girl could use a big cheeseburger," Debbie added, and Terry nodded as she pursed her lips in agreement and scribbled the order down before Jill had the chance to object.

"Her name's Jill, remember?" Allison chided playfully.

Jill swallowed hard as the dark-haired girl lowered her head and glanced quickly to see Jill from the corners of her gleaming eyes. With a deep quiver Jill shot her eyes to the emptiness that sat on the table in front of her, then slowly raised her longing gaze to meet the dark-haired girl's eyes once more.

She was still watching Jill, eagerly, intently. Jill felt her heart racing as the girl held her gaze, then, all at once, she smiled caringly and looked away with a flirtatious, bashful grin.

Terry slipped quickly over to the counter, waving to Charles who was standing to watch the whole thing in dumbfounded bewilderment.

"I'm Debbie, by the way," Debbie waved coyly as she introduced herself to Jill. Then she ran a shy hand through her swooping soft red curls. "The waitress is Terry, of course. And," she pointed to the other girls who sat around the table, "That's Rachel, Allison is next to her, and she's Sandra."

"It's nice to meet you all," Jill nodded politely.

Terry huffed as she came back over to the table. "Chuck there is getting the order ready, but he says Jill isn't allowed to sit and eat with us. He said she needs to help him close up the place tonight."

"He's right," Jill shrugged. "I'm sorry, everybody. I really should get back to work. But I do appreciate getting to sit down for a few minutes."

"Oh, no you don't," Debbie jumped in, straightening herself up in her seat. "Sandra," she looked over to the perky blond girl, "could you see if you can persuade the cook up there to cover for Jill for the rest of the night? I think she is in desperate need of a girl's night out!"

"Please," Jill grasped vainly at Sandra's coat as she slid from the booth. Jill tried getting up, but Terry stepped in her way and Jill couldn't find the will or strength to even attempt to push past her. "But I could get fired," she cried out, sinking a shaking hand into her hair.

"Don't worry," Debbie assured her. "If anyone can handle this, it's Sandra."

Jill watched anxiously, her breath catching in her throat. Sandra smiled coyly at Charles as she stepped around the counter, sliding from her coat, and leaving it perched in naughty supplication on one of the bar stools. With a sweet, submissive look up into Charles' dark brown eyes she slowly grasped the bottom of her T-shirt with both hands and tugged teasingly up on the hem.

"What do you say," she scrunched her nose as she spoke. "Could you possibly find it in your heart to cover for our new friend tonight?"

Charles stepped back nervously. He glanced up at the front door, which stood dark and still against the freezing rain outside. Then he stared hard at Sandra's enticing face before he stared down at the roundness of her, buried beneath the fabric of her shirt. "Are you wearing a bra?" he asked curtly, his voice cracking a little.

Sandra lifted one hand to her chest, gently rubbing the cotton fabric with her delicate fingers.

"Nope," Charles' eyes went large. "You're sure not."

He gritted his teeth as he looked gingerly around the kitchen. Jill glanced around with him, then suddenly slumped back into her seat. She stuck out her bottom lip and blew her breath up along her face to tussle her hair where it drooped over her forehead. Black, charred grease clung to every surface, as it always did every night. And it was her job to get it clean.

Sandra again pulled up at her shirt, slowly, nervously, exposing her taut belly. She swung her head widely back and forth to clear her long strands of swaying champagne hair from covering her breasts. She gave the other girls a hesitant backward glance before she twisted her body to conceal her front from everyone except Charles. She lifted the shirt up to her chin, gathering the folds of fabric in her hands so she could reveal everything from her neck to her belt, and arched her back seductively.

Jill choked back a little on her disappointment at not seeing Sandra's large, protruding breasts. She struggled hard to not let on how difficult it was for her not to stare as she watched Sandra's hair swoop in feathery tresses over her naked shoulder blades, ending with glistening soft wisps just above the deep, cute curve of the small of her back. Jill tilted her head down, hoping that no one would notice her eyes watching so intently from their corners as they roamed down along the luscious muscles sloping inward from Sandra's sides where they approached her slender waist.

Charles stepped closer to Sandra, moving a hand toward her chest. She yanked her shirt down sharply, hunching forward, laughing nervously. Charles leaned over to whisper in her ear, and the two of them had a discussion in hushed tones.

Sandra drew a deep breath and turned to look at the audience watching them. "We'll be right back," she said, raising her eyebrows in submissive agreement. Charles took a gentle hold on Sandra's reluctant hand and led her into the back office area.