Friday, December 24, 2010

Chapter 4

Richie looked up with a mouthful of mashed potatoes when Annie returned from the kitchen.  Swallowing and quickly wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he grinned.  “This may be the best meat loaf I’ve ever had.”

Annie dropped her eyes to his plate and saw it was clean.  She laughed and shook her head.  “Did you even taste it?” she teased.  “Or did you just inhale?”

Richie blushed slightly.  He had been famished; all recall of table manners had gone out the window after his first bite.  “Yeah – it was great,” he repeated.

“You want some more, or are you ready for some dessert?”  Annie grinned and set a wide slice of cherry pie on the counter beside Richie’s dinner plate.

Richie chuckled and nodded.  “I could eat a little dessert.  I love homemade pie.  That’s one of the things I miss most about my Ma – her pies.”  He picked up his fork and hesitated, silently reminding himself to mind his manners. 

Annie leaned forward, placing her elbows on the counter and resting her chin on her folded hands.  Her smile gentled as she watched Richie carefully cut a piece of the pie with his fork and lift it to his mouth.  “You and your Mama close?”

Richie nodded, chewing and swallowing his bite of pie before responding.  “Yeah. I’m lucky – I have great parents.  They’ve always been supportive of whatever I’ve tried to do.”

“Mmmm,” Annie mused quietly. “How ‘bout other family? Brothers? Sisters?”

“Nuh-uh,” Richie shook his head, his long dark locks swaying with the motion.  “Just me.  Only child.”

“Me too.”  Annie was silent for a long minute, watching Richie eat.  She chuckled inwardly as she noticed he was trying hard to be mannerly, taking small bites of the pie and chewing slowly, a paper napkin draped over his lap.  “You want some coffee?”  She finally asked, standing upright.

“Sure.  Thanks.”  Richie popped the last bite of pie crust in his mouth.  Setting his fork on the empty plate, he watched Annie wander to the end of the counter.  She turned her back to him, picking up the pot and pouring the dark liquid into a beige cup.  Richie’s eyes slid over her figure, lingering for a long moment on her shapely derriere before following her long, tanned legs from the hem of her short skirt to her delicate ankles.  

The corners of Richie’s mouth curved upward.  Not only was Annabelle friendly and sweet, she was very attractive.  When she had given him a ride into town Richie had been so preoccupied with worry over his car and disappointment in himself that he hadn’t really noticed how just pretty she was.

Annie turned, the cup of coffee in her hand.  She saw Richie’s sweet expression and paused for a moment, her eyes meeting his.  His smile was beautiful, reaching his eyes and lighting his whole face.  Annie felt a little flutter of butterfly wings in her stomach as for the first time she saw in Richie not a lonely soul, but a handsome young man.

“Here ya go,” she said softly, breaking the silence as she moved over to set the cup and saucer on the counter.  She reached for the cream pitcher and sugar dispenser, sliding them over beside the cup.

“Thanks, Annie.”  Richie’s smile gentled as he said her name for the first time.  He realized that his earlier nervousness was gone.  He felt totally at ease with this young woman who had come to his rescue today, in more ways than one.

“You’re welcome, Richie.” 

They gazed silently at each other for a long moment, then Richie dropped his eyes to his coffee cup.  Still smiling, he stirred in sugar and cream and took a sip.

Annie reached for Richie’s empty dinner and dessert plates, stacking them before turning and setting them on the ledge for Otis.  She sighed happily to herself as she headed for the corner table to check on the other patrons. 

Annie was encouraged by what had just happened; it was as if an instant bond had formed between her and Richie.  She knew basically nothing about him, but somehow she understood him.  He was a kindred spirit, another battered but romantic soul.  In their silent exchanged look, she could tell.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.  Annie could almost hear her mother’s voice in her ear.  He brings us what we need when we need it most. 

She shook her head slightly at that Sunday School homily.  Though she regularly attended the First Baptist Church of Darien, Annie wasn’t a particularly religious person.  The events of the last several years had shaken her faith.  But she did believe in fate, in destiny.  Perhaps that was the power at work here, that had brought Richie to her.  He was obviously searching for something, trying to find his way.  Maybe she could help him. 

Maybe fate had shown itself in the form of a blown engine thermostat. 

Annabelle chuckled at that thought and turned to tend to her customers.

After chatting with the man and his granddaughter, accepting payment for the check and a tip, and clearing the table, Annabelle returned to Richie.  He was flipping through yesterday’s newspaper, his coffee cup empty.  Annie automatically turned for the pot to refill his cup.

“No, I’m good.  No thanks.”  Richie waved a hand over his cup when Annie turned back to him, the pot in her hand.  “If I have anymore I won’t sleep tonight.”

“You may not anyway.  My couch is pretty lumpy.”  Annie’s tease made Richie chuckle. 

“It will be just fine.  Better than the back seat of my Piece of Sh…. Crap.”  Richie quickly corrected himself, catching glimpse of Tillie through the order window to the kitchen.  “There’s a spring poking up in the middle of the seat.  Uncomfortable as heck to sleep on.”

Annie laughed, shaking her head.  “Well, I think there may be a few broken springs on my sofa too.”  She smirked naughtily.  “That’s what happens when you bounce on the furniture too much.”

Richie’s eyes widened, a rosy flush creeping to his cheeks as he grinned.  Annie could tell her tease had caught him off-guard.  She had no idea why she had even made that innuendo-laden remark; it had just slipped out of her mouth as she bantered with him.

“Promise I won’t bounce on the couch,” he teased back.  “Least I can do, since you’re saving me from my backseat.  Besides, I pretty much sleep like the dead.  I probably won’t even move, broken springs or no.”

“Well, okay,” Annie gave Richie a faux-stern look, then smiled again.  She glanced at the clock over the door and sighed.  “Another hour until closing time.  Sorry to make you sit here and wait on me.”

Richie shrugged.  “Where else am I gonna go?”  He chuckled softly, then looked around the empty restaurant.  “Is there something I can do to help?  Maybe wash dishes, take out the garbage?”

“Shhh!  You better not let Miss Tillie hear you say that, or she’ll have you on your hands and knees scrubbing floors!”  Annie laughed.  Despite her playful rebuke she was impressed with Richie’s offer.  He obviously wasn’t afraid of work, even what some men would consider “women’s work.”  Obviously his Mama had raised him right. 

She shook her head, her honey-blonde locks swishing with the movement.  “Naw, Otis has already done all that.  Nothin’ to do but just sit tight.  Or…”  Annie fished in the pocket of her skirt, pulling out a handful of coins.  “Here.  Why don’t you go play somethin’ on the jukebox?”  She picked out a few quarters and laid them on the counter next to Richie’s empty coffee cup.

“Okay,” Richie readily agreed.  Looking through the music menu on the old Wurlitzer would at least kill a few minutes.  “Anything you want to hear?”

Annie shook her head.  “I’ve heard every song on that thing a million times.  Pick whatever you want.  Except ‘Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head.’  That one drives me crazy.”

Richie laughed at Annabelle’s pained expression.  “Okay.  You don’t have to worry about me playing that one, for sure.”  He scooped the quarters into his hand and slid off the stool, then wandered over to the jukebox.

Annie took Richie’s used coffee cup, wiped the counter, then stood watching him as he worked the jukebox.  His lips moved silently as he read through the menu of songs, occasionally curving into a smile or a frown.  He dropped a quarter into the slot and pushed a pair of buttons.  Instantly the machine whirred to life, dropping a vinyl 45 onto the turntable and filling the diner with a loud musical yelp followed by jangling guitars.

Help! I need somebody
Help!  Not just anybody
Help! You know I need someone
Help!

Annie grinned at his first selection.  She loved the Beatles.  Perhaps she and Richie were kindred spirits in more ways than one.  She chuckled at the irony of the lyrics, given how they had met. 

Humming along to the song, she turned to pull a bottle of Coca-Cola out of the cooler, popping off the cap and taking a long drink before wandering over to the jukebox.  She settled on the stool at that end of the counter, watching Richie choose another song.

“Beatles, huh?”  She smiled when Richie looked sideways at her, his lips curving into a little grin as he nodded.  “Nobody ever plays that song here, except me.  Most everybody else plays country songs, or Elvis.”  She took another sip of her Coke.  “I wouldn’t have guessed you were a Beatles fan, though.  You look more like a Led Zeppelin or Rolling Stones guy.”

Richie chuckled softly.  “Yeah, I like Zeppelin and the Stones too.  Actually, I like most kinds of music.”

“Me too.”  Annie cocked her head to the side.  Her eyes traced over Richie’s profile as he looked down at the jukebox menu.  He was almost pretty, with his high cheekbones and his full lips.  His tanned skin looked soft, even with the faint stubble that shadowed his jaw.  His dark lashes were thick and lush and so long that had she not known better she would have thought he was wearing mascara.  And his deep brown eyes… a girl could get lost in those eyes.

Feeling her gaze on him, Richie turned to look at Annie.  “Want me to play something?”

Annie shook her head, her cheeks coloring as she realized she had been caught staring.  “Not really. Play whatever you want.”

“What other songs do you like on here?”  Richie’s voice was softer with the question.

“Well, there’s not much that’s not either oldies or country… how about Billy Joel?”

Richie nodded.  “Billy it is.”  With a little grin he pushed another quarter into the slot and punched a pair of buttons.  “Piano Man.  Great song.”  He stepped away from the jukebox and moved over to settle on the stool beside Annie’s.

“Yeah.”  Annie took another sip of her Coke and swiveled toward Richie, gently bumping her knee against his.  “So, you came down here from New Jersey lookin’ for a job, huh?  What kind of work do you do?”

Richie shrugged and looked at the floor.  “Nothin’ in particular.  I worked a couple places, but they were all temporary.”

“Were you in Florida?”

“Only for a few days.”  Richie shook his head slowly, his eyes still downcast.  “I was kinda all over the place, moving around.  Memphis, Tupelo, Birmingham… Mostly Memphis, though.”

Annie could see from the slump of Richie’s shoulders that she had touched a nerve with her question.  “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

Richie turned his head to look at her, a hint of sadness in his brown eyes.  He shrugged. “S’okay.  Just not much to tell.  I worked some odd jobs as I could find ‘em, mostly around Beale Street and a couple music studios.  Ya know, sweeping up, taking out the trash, working the door, stuff like that.”

Annie’s surprise showed in her smile.  “Music studios?  Is that what took you to Memphis?  That guitar you were totin’ down the road?”

Richie nodded, his gaze again falling to the floor.  “Sorta.  I played a little when I was there, mostly in the clubs.  Just to make some extra money.”  He mumbled the half-lie, trying not to let disappointment creep into his voice.  He wasn’t embarrassed that he hadn’t succeeded as a musician, but he didn’t want Annie to feel sorry for him.  In the few short hours since they had met he and Annie had forged a sort of awkward friendship, one he hoped could continue.  She had already been so kind and generous to him, he didn’t think he could take it if he saw pity in her pretty blue eyes.

Annie beamed at Richie’s disclosure.  “Really?  You play for people?  I mean, like on a stage?  In bars?  That’s really cool!”  Her enthusiastic response made Richie look up, surprised.  “Do you sing too?”

“Uh, yeah.  Some.” 

“How long have you been playing?”  Annie shifted forward on her stool, her knees bumping against Richie’s leg.  He glanced down at her legs and saw that her skirt had slid a little further up her thighs.  He quickly raised his gaze to her face and saw her grinning eagerly, awaiting his reply.

“Since I was fourteen.  Fi…” Richie caught himself, remembering his earlier fib about his age.  “I.. I’ve been playing music longer than that, though.  I play piano and accordion too.”

Annie sighed through her smile.  “That’s so great.  I always wanted to take music lessons, but never had the chance.  Not really anyplace to do it ‘round here anyway.  The only thing I can play was that flute thingie we all learned in grade school music class.  I sing, though.”

Richie chuckled at Annie’s excited chatter.  “That’s great.  I bet you’re good -- you have a really pretty voice.”  He watched her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink at his compliment.

“Why, thank you, Richie.”  Annie fluttered her sandy lashes as she demurely cast her gaze to the ground.  Richie chuckled again, surprised at how quickly Annabelle went from sassy tomboy to shy Southern Belle.  He felt a little embarrassed himself, seeing her response.  He cleared his throat, breaking the brief awkward silence.  “Umm… where do you sing?  Church?”

Annie nodded and raised her sparkling gaze to meet his.  “Yeah.  I’m in the choir.  I was in the chorus in high school, too.”  She smiled sweetly at him, her voice softening.  “I’d love to hear you play.  I mean, you’re gonna be stuck here in town all weekend, and there ain’t much to do…”

Her smile wilted as Richie shifted uncomfortably on his stool and looked away.  “Umm… maybe.  We’ll see.”

“Okay.” Annie’s voice betrayed her confusion at his response.  “Richie… sorry.  I don’t mean to be pushy.  I just…”

“It’s okay, Annie.”  Richie cut her off, turning raising his face to look at her again.  He gave her another little smile.  “I just don’t really feel like it right now, is all.”

Annie nodded.  “Fair enough.”  She took a long drink of her Coke, then set it on the counter.  “Well, I need to get in the kitchen and help Otis clean up some.  Don’t think we’ll be havin’ any more customers tonight.”  Annabelle smoothed her hands over her skirt and stood.

“Anything I can do to help?”  Richie stood too, in an awkward gentlemanly gesture.

Annie smiled at his repeat of his earlier offer.  “Naw.  Got it covered.  Just hang out here; I’ll be done soon.  Then we’ll go home and you can get some sleep.”  She reached out and gave his knee a little squeeze before moving past him and around the counter, then through the swinging kitchen doors.

Richie nodded as he watched her go.  Then he settled back onto the stool, a little smile curving his lips as he traced his fingers over the spot on his knee where Annie’s touch had lingered.

2 comments:

  1. Catte, I'm loving the start of this one. Just the thought of this young, down-and-out Rich just makes me go Awwwww... Can't wait for more!

    Genie P

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  2. I'm loving this story! More please!!! I with Genie, it's gonna be an awwwwwww story!!! Can't wait til I see that theres another chapter! Merry Christmas by the way!! (Well, belated Christmas, lol!)

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