I see Don watching me from the shadows with a sly grin on his face. I feel my face flush which only embarrasses me even more. I duck head and disappear without a word back inside. I can hear him chuckle quietly behind me.
The rest of the day passes quickly. I grow accustomed to the fast pace of the kitchen and learn to keep a smile plastered on my face for the customers. At the end of the day, I've made thirty-four dollars plus twenty-five dollars in tips. It's been a good day and, despite the whirlwind chaos, I've enjoyed myself.
I wave goodbye to Lucille and Jean at the end of the street and decide to take a walk along the promenade before heading back to Moira's house. I lean against the railing and look out across the ocean to the flaming setting sun. The tide is out and the water glows gold under the setting sun. A seagull caws from its perch on a streetlight and tucks its head under its wing to rest awhile. Now that the shops and cafes have shut, most of the tourists have gone back to their hotels and the street is quiet except for the soft roaring of the ocean against the rocks. In the distance, the candy-cane lighthouse sparks to life, a beacon on the horizon.
If I had stayed in school and gone on to college, I would have loved to be a writer. If I'd lived in a place like this, I could written whole books about the way the whole town changes from the bustling morning to the quiet nights. I've had an active imagination even since I could remember. As a kid, I would see things that weren't there all the time. Sometimes, my Uncle Rich would get so humiliated. I remember being in line at the grocery store one time and pointing to a tall man in a dark coat and a bowler hat and saying, "Look, Uncle Rich! That man is a Cyclops!"
It's something I ignore now though I haven't really grown out of it. Sometimes, I'll walk past a lady and swear her legs were made of snakes. But it always turns out that they were wearing snakeskin boots when I look again. It could make for a great story someday: a girl that sees Greek myths come to life in New York City. I laugh to myself; would anybody ever read that?
"Hey, Sally." Don. He'd come up behind me so silently that I hadn't even notices. Now he's right beside me and I can't even pretend like I haven't seen him. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" He nods towards the ocean. The way he says it isn't offhand or just a blasé statement but as if he really means it, like he's never seen anything more beautiful.
"Yeah, it is," I reply. I had thought maybe things would be awkward between us after him overhearing the girls talk about how attractive he was at lunch. But his comment and the easy way he starts up the conversation makes any unease disappear. "I could stand here all day and I still don't think I would be done taking it in."
Don look at me, a little surprised. I wish I hadn't shared the last part. I don't even know why I said it. It just came out. If he thinks it's unusual, he doesn't say anything about it. He does smile and when he does, I am struck by how his eyes are the exact same shade as the ocean. They'd looked green earlier today but now, they look more like a dark gray flecked with gold, like the fading sunlight on the water. He asks, "What were you thinking about?"
"Oh, nothing," I shrug. There is no way I am telling him about my daydreams about writing and seeing snake-ladies in New York. "I should be getting back, anyway."
"Hey, has anyone shown you around town?" he says as I start to walk away.
I stop and turn to face him. Is he asking me out? I haven't actually ever been asked out before so I don't really know how to tell. But a gorgeous guy like him with so many girls fawning over him – pretty girls like Lucille – wouldn't go for me. I can feel myself blushing again. "Um, no," I reply, wishing my voice hadn't come out so girlishly high.
"Good," he says with that infectious, lopsided smile, "After work tomorrow, I'll show you around, okay?"
"Okay."
