A/N: Don't own TIH. You know the drill.
March 26, 2005
In the car, as he dropped the last of her friends off at a little apartment complex, Jen gave him a sheepish smile. "Thanks for not letting me leave, Priestly."
He grinned at her, watching for Samantha's door to close before edging through the parking lot toward the exit. "Sure. That's the arrangement, right?"
"Wellll," she said, "that wasn't quite what I had in mind, actually, but it was probably for my own good."
"It was definitely for your own good." He glanced at her. "Seriously, Jen, you need to get out there and boogie and just let your light shine."
She smirked. "That sounds like my Sunday school teacher when I was nine."
He shrugged and rolled down the window. "Where's your place?"
"Haven't you been there?" she frowned.
"I've been to your storage unit. You don't live there, I hope." He cocked an eyebrow at her.
"No," she giggled.
"So, where are you?"
She gave him directions. It wasn't far from Samantha's place, but he realized with some dismay it was a pretty good hike from any of the bus lines.
"Jen? You mind if I crash on your couch?"
She shook her head. "No. I can drop you off at your place tomorrow morning so you can change for work."
Her place was clean but a little cluttered with evidence of her classes at school. Photos of family and friends marched all over the walls. He saw the piano, an old upright, tucked in the area where a dining room table was supposed to go. He looked at it longingly. He hadn't played in forever. It was the one thing about waiting around for church he liked. Except whenever his father caught him playing anything secular, he'd get the riot act. He didn't like that. Jen caught him looking at it and grinned sheepishly.
"I know," she said from behind him. "I'm a nerd. I love playing piano." She handed him a pillow and blanket. "Do you need something to drink? Are you hungry?" she asked, pointing toward the kitchen.
He shook his head. "I could use the bathroom, though."
When he emerged a few minutes later, she asked if he needed anything else. He shook his head. "Night, Jen."
"Goodnight, Priestly. Thanks again."
"It was fun," he nodded. "Let's do it again sometime."
When he woke up the next morning to brilliant sunlight streaming through the barely covered windows, he thought he heard an engine. Priestly sat up, glancing at the door, wondering if the sound of it closing had woken him. He padded into the bathroom, and then he peeked in the open door to her room. No one.
He found her note on the kitchen counter:
I'll be right back. I'm just getting breakfast. Jen
He stretched and wandered back to the sofa, folding the blanket. The piano seemed to stare at him, beckon to him. He glanced at the closed front door, then back at the piano. He felt like he was stealing from the offering tray, but he gently lifted the closed cover to expose the keys. He tried a couple. It was in tune. He should have known, the way Jen talked.
He fiddled a little, just enjoying the sound of his fingers over the keys again, but then he settled on a song. One of his favorites. Something his father would holler at him for. He glanced over his shoulder again at the door. Still closed. He began to play, then tried his sleepy voice.
"I heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?..."
He let the music carry him, even though he knew exactly who it would carry him to. He knew why the song had occurred to him. It was inevitable, after talking to Mike the other night. He'd let himself have this, and then he'd put it back away.
"And remember when I moved in you? The holy dark was moving, too, and every breath we drew was Hallelujah…"
He got wrapped up in the song. He'd been listening hard for the door, but when he hit the last note, he jumped at the sound of Jen's voice behind him.
"Wow, Priestly," she said quietly, shutting the door behind her. "I didn't know you could play. Or sing."
He eased the lid back down over the keys and got up. "Is that breakfast? I'm starved," he said.
Jen held the bag out of his reach. "You're blushing," she laughed, moving the bag again as he reached for it. "I can't believe you're blushing."
He stopped reaching for the bag. "I was trying to listen for you to come back. You weren't supposed to hear that."
"Why not?" she asked, ducking past him for the kitchen. "It was good. You should be out working at a piano bar or something."
He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Can you see this," he gestured up and down his body, "working at a place like that?"
Jen shrugged. "You could."
"What about you? You play. You could do the same thing."
"I play for my church sometimes, if they need a back up. I don't play for money." She shook her head.
"Well," Priestly said, taking the breakfast sandwich she offered, "neither do I."
They sat on the sofa just talking about nothing in particular. Jen kept trying to ask him about the piano playing, where it came from, how long he'd been playing, but he just changed over to her. How long had she lived in this apartment? How much longer was she in school? Would she be the next to leave the grill?
"Please say no to that," he added, "even if it's a lie."
"I'm not going anywhere any time soon," she assured him. "Trucker's very accommodating with the schedule, and I like it there. And it's not a lie."
He grinned. "Yeah, Trucker sort of grows on you, right?"
She smiled. "I like the whole place. All the regulars, even the crowds. And even you," she teased.
He grinned and finished the last of his sandwich. Jen just cocked her head at him and wondered, "Who are you really, Priestly?"
He shrugged. "I'll never tell."
March 27, 2005. Sally's going away party.
The whole place was a mad house. Sally and Scooter were in the last booth. She was dwarfed by the enormous, gaudy crown Trucker insisted she wear. So that they could all enjoy the party, Trucker had them build a few 6' subs with just meat and cheese and prep a separate "fixings" bar on ice along the blank back wall. They took turns making rounds in the dining room for drink orders and seconds on the subs. Very few people came in that weren't regulars, and everyone seemed content to pay the $15 "all you can eat and drink" cover charge at the door.
"Sal," Priestly stopped by with a pitcher of tea. "Refill?"
"Oh, no," she shook her head. "I'm gonna float away."
"Scooter?" he asked, waggling the pitcher. When Scooter held up his glass, he filled it.
He listened to bits of conversation all around him, people reminiscing about Sally, about the grill, about the neighborhood. Tim Stabler popped in from Washington, which made Sally tear up for about the millionth time. He looked across the street at his old boarded up building, still waiting for a renter, and looked a little wistful for a moment. Priestly saw Trucker wander over and chat with him, though, so he knew Tim would be laughing again at any moment.
People he'd never seen in the shop came in and were recognized by Sally and Trucker as long lost regulars. Marty came by with her husband, which surprised Priestly. He hadn't realized she was married. Lucille and Mr. Julius stopped by, choosing to sit together due to the crowd in the dining room. Eddie and Diane took the other side of the booth across from them. Priestly was amused at the bizarre mix of people who came in and drifted out again. People Sally affected over the years to the point they wanted to say goodbye to her.
At about four, Priestly took his break and crouched down next to Sally. "Sal, I'm really going to miss you," he said.
She smiled at him and cupped his face with her hands. "I'll miss you, too, Priestly. You've made me laugh at least once every time I had a shift with you." She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, and then she smiled and stroked his mutton chops. "You get more you, Priestly, every time I see you. What's this crazy facial hair about?"
He shrugged and just grinned at her. Just then, Trucker nodded at Priestly. Priestly, smirking at Sally, scooted backward in his chair and then stood up on it and called out,
"YO! Everybody listen up!"
When most all the eyes in the room were on his, including Sally's curious ones, he smiled down at her. "We're going to play a fun little game I like to call, 'Who knows Sally best?'" He held up his hands as people began to chatter and laugh. "There's a genuinely awesome prize for whoever wins this game, so it has to really be fair. If you think you know an answer, put your hand up, old school style. There are only five questions, so if nobody gets more than one, the names will go into a drawing to decide the winner." He waited a beat, then said, "If you know Sally like I know Sally, you can tell me what Sally says if a customer sneezes…"
Several hands shot up. Priestly cocked an eyebrow down at Jen. He almost burst out laughing as she nodded at the head construction guy and said, "Michael?"
"Sneeze once for a wish, twice for a kiss, three for a lettah, four for something bettah." His Boston accent made his buddies laugh and shove him.
"Nice," Priestly said. Jen recorded his name on her order pad. "If you know Sally like I know Sally, you can tell me what Sally thinks of people using cell phones while they're with other people..."
Jen pointed to Diane. "Rudest. Thing. Ever!" Diane called, mimicking Sally's voice.
Eddie joined Sally as she held up her hands and said, "Unless it's an emergency!"
The entire restaurant broke into laughter as Eddie mirrored her, right down to her 'hands up' gesture.
Priestly nodded and chuckled, "You should get bonus points for that, man. Classic!" He waited until the chatter died down. "If you know Sally like I know Sally, you can tell me three things that Sally just can't say correctly to save her life."
"Mel?" Jen asked.
"Coupon, mayonnaise, and library."
"What?" Sally joked. "Liberry! What?!" she giggled.
Priestly cringed like someone was running their fingers down a chalkboard. Sally laughed and chanted it. "Liberry! Liberry! Liberry!" He pretended to swoon and dropped flat on the floor. And then he wiggled around like he was in his death throes as she added, "Kewpin! Manaise!"
Good natured laughter filled the room. He poked his head up and saw Sally blushing, covering her cheeks with her hands. But she was smiling, so he knew she was having a good time. He climbed back on the chair. "If you know Sally like I know Sally," he said, "you know Sally's favorite breakfast."
Eddie's hand shot up. Jen pointed at him. "Cinnamon toast, bacon, and grape juice!"
Priestly looked at Sally, horrified. "Together?"
Sally blushed again and nodded.
He shook his head and shuddered. "Ok. Last one. If you know Sally like I'm starting to think I don't know Sally," he cracked, "what one thing does she always ask for for Christmas besides world peace?"
The room went still for a moment as people clearly tried to think of it, think back to the holidays and to the light hearted exchange of wish lists and cheer. A tentative hand went up.
"Diane?" Jen nodded.
"A cruise to the Bahamas?" Diane asked.
Priestly nodded. "That's right. A cruise to the Bahamas." He glanced at Jen, "Diane?" he asked. Jen nodded. "Ok, so Diane wins the very cool, first ever brand new BCG twelve free Sally subs card!" When the clapping died down, he said, "You might be wondering what a Sally sub is. Well, I'll tell you. It's a cinnamon, bacon and grape jelly sub." He waited a beat, then waved it away with his hand. "No, God, I'm just kidding. It's a brand new Sally creation: turkey with bacon, avocado, and ranch dressing. Hot or cold. So, twelve Sallys for Diane. Congrats!" He stepped back down from the chair, slipping his hands behind his back for Jen to put the wrapped present in them, and then approached Sally and Scooter's booth. "This is for you, Sally, from me and Jen and Joe and Trucker and all of the people in this room today and a lot of the random customers who've been in since you left us…"
She started crying as she opened the envelope first, pulling the Royal Caribbean itinerary from inside it. Her smile lit up the room, though, and the applause and the oohing and ahhing went on for several seconds before Sally hopped up and put her arms around Priestly first, because he was closest.
"I love you, Sal," he told her softly, next to her ear so that only she could hear, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"I love you, too, Priestly," she said, equally softly. "Promise me you'll come down to Florida and see me and Scoot and Jetta sometime."
He nodded and ducked away to resume food and drink rounds as she moved on to hug Jen, Joe, and Trucker. He listened to the sounds of her flipping through the scrapbook. He'd taken most of the pictures, just shots of all of them and all of the regulars with little sentiment cards pasted under each one. Jen did the girly thing and arranged everything in a blank scrapbook with all sorts of papery doodads and stickers and little bits she called "embellishments". From the sound of it, Sally loved it.
He hated the reality that Sally was going to walk out of the Beach City Grill that night for the last time for a very long time at least, if not forever. He already missed her, and she wasn't even gone yet. He kept his head down as he moved farther away from the noise of the dining room, gathering the trash for a quick break out back.
April 10, 2005
Priestly heard the door open and hoped Trucker was still out front to greet whoever it was that just walked in. He filled clean meat trays for the cold station and the produce trays as well. When he stepped out into the front with the two trays balanced on either arm, he caught sight of a girl standing by the register.
Goth, he thought, taking in her dyed black Bettie Page hair. She was pale and wore the black lipstick and black fingernail polish and head to toe black. And she was pointing behind herself to the sign at the door. He grinned. Maybe he could finally get off doubles. He'd work them for the rest of the year if he had to, but he was hoping he had saved enough that he could take a couple classes again in the fall.
"Shawnna," she said, shaking Trucker's hand as Joe walked in the door.
Priestly sighed inwardly as Joe frowned at the sight of him. He almost wanted to laugh. The guy reacted the same way every freaking day as if Priestly was something new. Instead of focusing on Joe, he asked,
"You going to interview her, Truck?"
Trucker grinned his way as Shawnna turned her heavily blackened eyes toward him. Trucker gestured, "That's Priestly. And the other guy is Joe."
Joe, who had started setting up the grill, lifted his hand. Priestly nodded at her.
"What time of day are you available?" Trucker asked.
She shrugged. "Name a time. I'll be here."
"Elvis…" Priestly said, watching her closely. "Dead or alive?"
She smirked and quoted Men in Black. "Elvis isn't dead. He just went home."
He nodded appreciatively. "Right on."
Trucker cocked his head. "Food handler's card?"
She nodded. "I've done this stuff before." She fished her card out of her little black purse.
"Why'd you leave your last job?" Priestly asked, earning a look from Trucker. He shut up and just grabbed a towel and the cleaner and wiped down the already clean front counter.
"I got tired of guys grabbing my ass," she answered flatly. "I was over at Tim G's on seventh," she explained. "Cocktail waitress. Good money, but the daily sexual assault was getting old."
Trucker chuckled. "I need someone to work ten to six. Five days a week, Mondays and another day off. It won't always be the same day. Sound like something you can handle?"
She smiled. "Definitely."
Trucker glanced at him. "Can you start Tuesday?"
Her smile grew wider. "Absolutely."
April 12, 2005
"Helllllo!" Priestly stood in the doorway of the grill, just looking around. Things seemed pretty calm. It felt good to come in at three for the first time in what felt like forever.
Relaxing a little, he continued inside. Shawnna appeared from the back room with more sub rolls. Joe grinned at her. And then he gave Priestly a dark look that irritated the hell out him. Priestly said nothing, however.
"Hey, Lucille," he greeted, chucking Bam Bam under his little chin. As always, the dog shook like he had Parkinson's. But he licked Priestly's hand.
"Hi, Priestly." Lucille's eyes flicked to his shirt from her book. Don't make me poison your food. She laughed. "You better not."
He grinned, cocking an eyebrow down at himself. "Never. But the threat might do wonders for tips, you think?"
She laughed and went back to her book. He patted Bam Bam again and said, "Later, Bams."
Trucker looked up at him from the back booth. He tried not to smile at the shirt. He sometimes tried to be stern about them, about the inappropriateness. But in the end, Priestly knew, he secretly liked them and thought they were funny. "I hope the health inspector doesn't come when you're wearing that," was all he said.
When Priestly came out to the floor, tying his apron, Shawnna eyed his shirt and smiled. Joe rolled his eyes and muttered something Priestly didn't quite catch.
"What was that, Josie?" he asked, cupping his hand near his ear. Joe just shot him a dirty look and didn't answer. Shawnna watched with ambivalence. "So, how do you like it so far?" he asked her.
She shrugged. "So far, so good."
The laptop beeped. Priestly leaned over to look at it. "Two six inch Spicy Italians, cold."
Shawnna moved to get them started. Priestly went out to the floor to make rounds, not knowing what else to do with himself as Jen walked in to start her shift.
Joe and Shawnna were just about off for the day when the door swung open and a slender girl wearing grey wool pants and a tiny faded blue t-shirt advertising Triumph cycles came in. Her hair was a sleek, jet-black style that angled down toward her face in the front and was shorter in the back. She had a nose ring, a ring on every finger, and several chains and bracelets. She glanced at Priestly's shirt and smiled at him.
"Is Shawnna in here?" she asked.
"Who are you?" he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting up.
"I'm her sister, Lainey."
"Hey, Lainey," he said lazily, glancing at Jen as the laptop as it beeped. "I'm Priestly."
She nodded. "I like your hair."
He glanced up toward it as if he could see it. His Mohawk was blue and set in a double row of liberty spikes. "Thanks," he said. And then he glanced out the window and back at her. "Is that your car out front?"
"Yeah, why?" she asked. A second later she was swearing and darting out the door to move the ancient AMC Spirit, pleading with a motorcycle cop not to ticket her.
"We need a Sally and a Maui Jim," Jen said. "Cold and hot."
He was just wrapping the Sally sub, thinking about how naming a sandwich after Sally may not have been the best idea, when Lainey returned, ticketless. Priestly grinned. "You work some feminine magic on him or what?"
She shook her head. "No. It's amazing how motorcycle cops respond to my shirt, though," she said, grinning down at it. Priestly wondered if it was the motorcycle ad or her boobs. Glancing surreptitiously at them, he thought it was probably a mixture of both. She looked up as Shawnna clomped back in front, her heavy goth boots announcing her arrival. "Ready?"
Shawnna nodded and grabbed her purse from under the counter. "See ya, Priestly. Jen. Bye, Joe." She held up her hand. Lainey turned and looked at him as Shawnna headed out the door. She smiled at him and ducked out.
Priestly watched her go. Joe shoved past him with a glare and called out a goodbye to Trucker, who was in the back room trying to tame the Beast. Jen smirked at him.
"I think you have a fan," Jen teased.
He shrugged. "She was cute."
Jen's grin grew wider. "So, it's mutual."
He snapped her with his bar towel as the door swung open and a few customers entered.
May 1, 2005
"May day! May day!" Priestly called, bursting into the shop. Shawnna was at the laptop since Jen was off. She smirked up at him.
Trucker smiled from the register, where he paused with his fingers over the adding machine.
"Priestly," Shawnna said, "settle a bet. Who sings that song that goes, 'Yeah, here comes the water, it comes to wash away the sins of you and I...'?"
"Velvet Revolver. Slither." He slid past her toward the back room. On the way back, tying his apron, he asked, "What was the bet?"
She sighed. "It doesn't matter. I lost." She had her cell phone in her hand and was texting someone. She finished the text and tossed the phone into her purse.
Nearly three hours later, Lainey came in. Priestly turned around and grinned at her. "Hey, Lainey."
"Hi. Can I get a 6" Philly Cheesesteak?"
He nodded. "Onions?"
"That depends," she said.
"Depends?" he asked, eyebrows lifting. "On what?"
"On whether you want to catch a movie or something with me after work."
Priestly glanced at Shawnna, who stared at the laptop, and then back at Lainey. "I don't get off until 9:30."
"So, no onions, then," Lainey smiled. "I'll see you at 9:30."
"Okay," he said, turning back to the grill. Joe was already in back stowing his apron and getting ready to leave for the day, so he started the sandwich. He glanced at Shawnna, saw her jerky movements as she checked the laptop one last time for orders. He wondered what he'd missed as she headed off toward the bathrooms.
A few minutes later, when he gave Lainey the wrapped sandwich, Shawnna nowhere in sight, Lainey winked at him and said, "See you at 9:30."
Priestly watched her go, until she was out the door and disappearing around the corner and past the side window. Trucker, on his way to the back room, slapped his shoulder and said,
"Watch out for that one. She seems feisty."
He nodded. "That's how I like them."