Back to the Start

The early morning shift was never that interesting at Daisy's diner; after the breakfast rush had ended and before the lunch rush started it was eerily quiet. One or two customers would scatter themselves around, reading their newspapers and staring into their bottomless cups of coffee. From time to time there would be a group come in, but most days were the same. The regulars would come and go, their order placed before they had even opened their mouths.

Jason O'Neil hid in the kitchen, his only viewpoint being the small food hatch that stood between the kitchen and the restaurant floor. He didn't get to serve anything exciting anymore, those days were well and truly gone, but what he did serve was nothing short of perfection. He had worked in kitchens far busier than Daisy's before, but he wasn't one to do anything by half-measures. Every burger that he created was the best he could make it; perfectly cooked, beautifully seasoned and immaculately presented. The fries were always hot and crisp and the salad was never anything but fresh. He was an artist and the plate was his canvas.

“Six!” His voice reverberated out from behind the hatch as he set down a perfectly turned out plate underneath the heat lamp.

He turned his attention back to the kitchen as he saw the waitress grab it and whisk it away. If there was one thing Jason hated it was sloppy service; sloppy service caused his food to go cold and cold food was never received well by customers, especially the regular kind.

“Your mother just called again.” A waitress appeared in the doorway, her hands shoved into the pockets on the front of her white apron. “She wanted to know if you were coming home.”

“Tell her I'm busy.”

“We can manage without you,” she said, her voice soft. “Ray said he'd come in early. Apparently he owes you a favour.”

“A favour?” Jason laughed lightly, shaking his head as he returned his concentration back to peeling the small pile of potatoes on the counter. “He owes me more than one.”

“Then maybe you should take him up on it and go and be with your family.”

“What difference will it make? He'll still be dead whether I'm there or not.”

“I'm not asking you again, Jay.” She walked over to him, carefully taking the knife out of his hand, then reached around him to unfasten his apron. “You're my friend and I'm telling you to go and be with your family.”

“Becky--”

“No.” She interjected before he could finish. “You're leaving.”

“I have to prepare for the lunch rush”

“I think I can just about manage to peel some potatoes.”

“I would really rather be here.”

“I'm not telling you again.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You need to go and deal with this and be together.”

Jason left without another word. When Rebecca had made her mind up about something there really was no point in fighting her on it; she didn't change her mind and she didn't back down. In fact in the last three and a half years he hadn'­t known her to admit to being wrong about anything, even when he was sure she knew she wasn't right.

The walk back to his mothers house was a slow one. Jason dragged his heels, letting himself get distracted by every store window he passed on the way. The longer he could avoid it, the better it would be. They had known his father was dying, he had been dying for three years now and in many ways he had already said his goodbyes to him ten times over. It had actually been a little of a relief to know the tension was over and the end had come.