The cafe was busy, the Saturday-morning crowd filling all but one of the tables and booths, the air pungent with the smell of coffee and doughnuts. Ross glanced about, taking in the faces of the customers, noting in particular the large table of men at the back, then moved to the counter. The stools were mostly vacant. He took one at the far end and lowered himself comfortably in place. The air-conditioning hummed, and the sweat dried on his face and hands. He leaned the black walking stick between the counter and his knee, bracing it there. Talk and laughter drifted about him in the mingling of voices. He did not look around. He did not need to. The man he had come to find was present.
The woman working the counter came over to him. She was pretty, with long, tousled blondish hair tied back in a ponytail, expressive dark eyes, and sun-browned skin. White cotton shorts and a collared blouse hugged the soft curves of her body. But it was her smile that captivated him. It was big and open and dazzling. It had been a long time since anyone had smiled at him like that.
“Good morning,” she greeted. “Would you like some coffee?”
He stared at her without answering, feeling something stir inside that had lain dormant for a long time. Then he caught himself and shook his head quickly. “No, thank you, miss.”
“Miss?” Her grin widened. “Been quite a while since anyone called me that. Do I know you?”
Ross shook his head a second time. “No. I’m not from around here.”
“I didn’t think so. I’m pretty good with faces, and I don’t remember yours. Would you like some breakfast?”
He thought about it a moment, studying the menu board posted on the wall behind her. “You know, what I’d really like is a Cherry Coke.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I think we can fix you up.” She walked away, and he watched her go, wondering at the unexpected attraction he felt for her, trying to remember when he had last felt that way about anyone. He looked down at his hands where they rested on the counter. His hands were shaking. His life, he knew, was a shambles.
A man and a boy came into the coffee shop, approached the counter, glanced at the available seats, and then squeezed themselves in between two men farther down the way. Ross could feel their eyes on him. He did not react. It was always like this, as if somehow people could sense the truth of what he was.
The woman with the smile returned carrying his Cherry Coke. If she could sense the truth, she didn’t show it. She set the Coke on a napkin in front of him and folded her arms under her breasts. She was probably somewhere in her thirties, but she looked younger than that.
“Sure you wouldn’t like a Danish or maybe some coffee cake? You look hungry.”
He smiled in spite of himself, forgetting for a moment his weariness. “I must be made of glass, the way you see right through me. As a matter of fact, I’m starved. I was just trying to decide what to order.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she declared, smiling back. “Since this is your first visit, let me make a suggestion. Order the hash. It’s my own recipe. You won’t be sorry.”
“All right. Your own recipe, is it?”
“Yep. This is my place.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Josie Jackson.”
“John Ross.” He took her hand in his own and held it. Her hand was cool. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too. Nice to meet anyone who still calls me ‘miss’ and means it.” She laughed and walked away.
He finished the Cherry Coke, and when the hash arrived he ordered a glass of milk to go with it. He ate the hash and drank the milk without looking up. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Josie Jackson looking at him as she passed down the counter.
When he was finished, she came back and stood in front of him. There were freckles on her nose underneath the tan. Her arms were smooth and brown. He found himself wanting to touch her skin.