-Chapter Four-
Granny's Diner, the place was called. According to the passerby on the street that they had asked for information, it was the best, not to mention only, diner in town. They could stop there just to get something to eat before getting the car into the closest repair shop.
Finding it was easy, probably because of the size of the place. It couldn't be that hard to search out anything in a place that seemed to contain a total of three streets, unlike the maze of buildings and roads she'd seen in Portland. Not that that was a bad thing, though. It had came into view after only a few minutes of walking.
The bright signs standing both on the outside sidewalk and mounted on the diner itself that had arrows pointing out its location were also helpful.
Upon opening the door from the outside and entering the place, Emma could instantly feel eyes on her as she stepped through the door, even before she noticed any of the other people sitting there.
She could see at least one or two of the several customers there look up from their plates of food and stare directly at her and Neal from the booths, as if it was their restaurant and the two people standing just inside the door were intruders. She guessed some people really didn't want new people in town. Well, this is going to be an awkward meal, she thought as her eyes darted around the building, trying to avoid the stares, only returning her focus when most of them had returned to their food.
It was only now that Emma, while still standing there, took a look around the place. It wasn't very big, and had the look of your typical diner. Tiled floors, leather booths, waitresses bustling around with heavy-looking serving trays, the usual.
She'd been in practically a million small-town diners that looked exactly like this one did while on the road. She'd seen the same groups of regulars that went there all the time and didn't like people who weren't regulars going there before, and this one was no exception. She may have never seen Storybrooke in her life, but she'd been here before. She'd even gotten a job at a place like this at one point when she was sixteen as a waitress, but it was very, very short-lived.
The place had a bit of a lost-in-time feel to it, although Emma couldn't figure out exactly why. Something about it (the design, maybe?) felt like something older. In fact, the whole town, or at least what they've seen of it, seemed to be that way, from the old-looking buildings to the vintage cars lining the streets.
But the faint smell of sausage and eggs cooking made her mouth water, and Emma put aside all of the other things she'd noticed about the place and thought of food. When was the last time she'd eaten? Late yesterday afternoon? But wait, did a peanut butter sandwich and a birthday cupcake that Neal had bought her from the store even count as a meal? If not, then it was even longer ago.
She liked to think she could run on very little food for a long time, but she did have limits.
She was just beginning to grow impatient from standing there when a woman appeared from behind the nearby counter and leaned forward, arms resting on the hard surface.
The woman didn't appear to be much older than Emma, in her mid-twenties at the latest, and she stared at them with a curious expression from across the counter for a moment before speaking.
"Hi, I'm Ruby, I'll be your waitress. Come with me."
It was a fitting name, considering her outfit-a short skirt and top-all had at least some of the color red in them. Even her dark hair had streaks of red in it.
She came out from behind the counter and directed them to a nearby booth next to a window. As they followed her and sat down on opposite sides, she stopped to talk.
"I don't think I've seen you around here before."
"We're not from around here," replied Neal.
"That's nice! We hardly ever get visitors here. Where are you from?"
"Um...actually, right now we're...traveling the country," he said. It was partially true, at least.
"You guys must be so lucky. I've always wanted to travel the country...maybe even the world. I've never even left Storybrooke before."
That was strange to Emma. She's stayed in one town her entire life, never even leaving to go to a store or something? Emma couldn't count the number of towns she'd been in. But maybe that was normal here.
"Are you visiting family or anything?" she said, still standing in front of the table. "Cause, you know, there aren't many other reasons to come to Storybrooke," said Ruby in a wistful tone while pulling out her notepad and pen.
"Nah, we're just passing through," replied Neal.
"Okay then. So what can I get you for drinks?"
Neal ordered a coffee. How he could drink the stuff, Emma had no idea. It tasted horrible to her, whether it kept her awake or not. She preferred hot chocolate for her caffeine kick, and always thought it tasted good with cinnamon. Which is exactly what she got.
"That's interesting," the waitress said, "I've only known one other person in town that orders it like that. You wouldn't happen to know a Mary Margaret, by any chance?"
"No. We've never been here before," said Emma, curious. She'd thought she was the only one who ever liked that particular combination. It was weird, how this other person, this Mary Margaret, would have the same habit as she did. It was an interesting coincidence.
"Ruby!"
A woman's yell came from the direction of what Emma assumed was the kitchen, accompanied by the sound of plates clinking against each other, and the waitress rolled her eyes."And that's my cue. That's my granny. She owns the diner. And the inn here too. By the way, if you're considering staying, the B&B is down the street. "
"Your grandma owns the inn?" said Emma. She supposed she'd probably be staying there again tonight, if there room was still vacant. And she would bet ten bucks that it was still vacant.
"Yeah. So I have to go. I'll get your drinks. "
She hurried away, as the person from the kitchen called her name again.
Emma thought Ruby seemed nice, if a bit talkative. Maybe they would've been friends, if it wasn't for the fact that they would be leaving as soon as the car was fixed. But it was a long shot. She didn't make friends easily.
Speaking of the car, it was going to have to be towed. It would have to be moved out of the mayor's driveway, although part of her wanted to just leave it there to see her reaction. The lady would throw a fit.
But that was out of the question, and would lead to fines for money that they really needed for other things. It would also call more attention to themselves than nescessary, and practically the number one rule of getting away with a theft-in her case, watches-was to not call more attention to yourself than nescessary. Come to think of it, mouthing off at the mayor was probably a bad idea. But it sure had been...interesting, to say the least.
After walking here, they could have gone straight to the repair place instead of coming here, but they were hungry. This place was in the middle of nowhere. It may be awhile before another town with a place to eat would cross their paths.
They could worry about all those things later. Right now, Emma was having breakfast with her boyfriend and she was going to enjoy it. They would then get the car(eventually) fixed and then they could leave the weird town in the middle of nowhere and be on their way, and never have to see it again. Or at least that's what she had told herself.
She had had her own doubts at times while on the road, though,when she worried that something would go horribly wrong.
But Neal had said that they were not to far away from Canada the night before, and he had made decent time. The car would probably only delay things.
You've been in worse places than this, Emma thought to herself. This really was nothing. You could be sitting in jail right now. But you aren't.
She was able to reassure herself, sitting there in the booth and waiting for the waitress to bring back her drink.
Her back was facing the door, and she didn't notice Regina walk in, go directly to the counter, and sit down on one of the stools, which was one of her favorite spots that nobody dared to cross.
Neither noticed one another for the entire time they sat in the diner. There was no second confrontation between the mayor and the newcomers. Not even a glance. Nobody's routine was further disrupted.
For now, anyway.