The diner is exactly like every roadside eatery Danny has ever seen in the movies. Cracking vinyl on the seats of oft used booths and aluminum stools pulled up to a shiny formica counter top. The waitress even has on a powder blue dress with her white apron tied across the front, her crooked name tag announcing to the world that she is Delores. Danny fidgets with the turkey sandwich on whole wheat bread sitting in front of him while Mindy makes a spectacle of herself, grunting over a plate of home fries. The bacon cheeseburger she ordered is long gone.
"I thought you didn't have any money."
"Priorities Danny, there's a difference between gas money and money for heavenly cheeseburgers."
He rolls his eyes, blinking suddenly when he realizes he's picked up the immature habit from her. "If you have money for food, why are you eating like it's the first meal you've seen in days?"
"Because it is."
Her answer is matter of fact, and she barely pauses to drench her potatoes in ketchup before massacring them with her fork. He frowns. "I don't understand."
"Look, you can't go around flashing your money around when you're with strangers. As much as I would have loved to get the blue plate special at Maxine's Bar and Grill about two hundred miles back, I didn't relish the idea of the shady characters I was with relieving me of my precious cheeseburger money. So, I've been living out of vending machines. Fried apple pies are actually pretty good."
He arches one eyebrow. "They're really not."
"I wouldn't expect you to understand. That turkey sandwich is the most uninspired thing I've seen in a long time." Her fork drifts over to his plate, nudging at it, a look of disgust spreading across her face. "Is it… is it dry Danny. Gross."
Her horror at his condiment free dinner makes him laugh, eyes crinkling in spite of his effort to reign it in. He parries her forked thrust and scoots his plate away from her. It's hard to imagine someone who clearly enjoys food so much going hungry because she's afraid of being robbed. He recalls the days when he had so little money he was living on tuna fish and whatever rejected produce he could get for half price at the market. There's an tightness in his chest when he looks at her, amusement slowly fading away. Nothing's changed between them, not really, but the enforced closeness they've endured in the past day and a half make him feel like he knows her. He suddenly feels protective of her.
"You're not worried about me relieving you of your precious cheeseburger money?"
She shakes her head, tipping up the tall glass of milk to wash down her greasy dinner. "You? Puh-lease." The thick glass thumps back down on the countertop. "That watch of yours costs more than every nickel I have. Burberry 2012, custom leather band. You dropped at least half a G on that."
He gapes at her, fingering the item in question. "How…?"
She shrugs. "Different lifetime."
He turns his attention back to the half eaten turkey sandwich, finishing if off quickly, trying not to eavesdrop on the sounds of Mindy enjoying her food and chatting amiably with Delores. His traitorous brain equates her little grunts and sighs with other sounds of pleasure. What the hell is wrong with him? He's like a fourteen year old boy who's just discovered his mother's lingerie magazine. It's unacceptable.
He tries to block out the warm sound of her voice, but his ears prick when the phrase "medium chain triglycerides" falls from her lips. He isn't exactly surprised to hear the terminology. She is a former med student after all, but the way she slips into enthusiastically teaching Delores about all of the natural remedies that make him feel like he's seeing a new side of her. She sounds so much like his colleague, Dr. Shulman. Always harping about incorporating more natural medicine into their practice. Marc would like her, probably more than himself, Danny thinks ruefully.
"And, it makes my skin sinfully soft, right Danny?"
She turns to face him, waiting for him to nod in agreement or say something supportive, but he's staring at her like an idiot, and it's all he can do to keep his mouth from dropping open. Her skin? Why is she drawing him into this? He swallows, the tops of his ears turning red. A frown pulls as his lips as he searches his mind. Did he touch her when he was sleeping?
She rolls her eyes in exasperation, snatching his hand up off the counter, petting the back of his knuckles with her fingertips. "Right?"
He nods in agreement, totally dumbstruck, and it seems to be enough for her, because she turns back to the waitress and finishes her exaltation of coconut oil. Mindy excuses herself and disappears into the little girl's room, leaving Danny alone with his thoughts at the counter.
Delores smiles at him sweetly, laying down the handwritten ticket before refilling his coffee. "Your girl is a sweetheart. And she obviously wants a piece of that coconut cream pie over there." She gestures to the confection with the now empty coffee pot.
There it sits, under the glass dome of it's little display, all whipped meringue and toasted coconut flakes. Of course she wants a piece of the pie, and of course she had to drop the least subtle hints on the planet. He lays a couple twenties down on the counter, smiling up at the waitress. "Two pieces. To go. Keep the change."
His girl. How ridiculous. The corners of his mouth tick up involuntarily.