Page 12 of Ash

Which she was.

But she would like to borrow a little of the confidence of a shape shifter.

What would it be like to look in a mirror and feel like you love the person you're staring at?

The waitress appeared again and came to a quick stop. "Is everything... okay?"

Startled, Suzannah took a step back and felt her cheeks heat like she had a sunburn. "Sorry. I was..." She wiggled the menu in her hand and swallowed the nervous knot she felt in her throat. "Looking at... the specials on the wall."

The waitress turned around and looked up at the blackboard on the wall.

When she turned back around, Alice had a lop-sided smile. "Those have been the daily specials since I've been here. Don hasn't changed them since then."

Suzannah smiled at the long-suffering look on Alice's face. "They must be really good."

Alice turned a quick look toward the kitchen door before she leaned her hands on the counter and lowered her voice. "Or Don just hasn't wanted to climb up on the step stool and change them."

Her lips pressed into a thin line at the waitress' words.

"But they're good."

Suzannah nodded and looked down at the menu. "Good."

Alice cleared her throat and gave her a wink when Suzannah looked up.

"At least we haven't killed anyone yet."

Suzannah and Alice laughed as the bus driver walked back into the room.

He looked at the old-style laminated counter and sighed. "Don?"

Suzannah jumped a little at the older man's raised voice.

A voice came out of the kitchen. "What!?"

"How long does it take to cook a coupla eggs and some bacon?"

A man came out of the back with a white t-shirt rolled up nearly to his shoulders, a white knit cap over his thinning salt and pepper hair, and a once-clean white apron tied around his solid waist. There was a spatula in one hand and a cigarette in the other. "I'm cookin' it, old man."

The bus driver gave him a hard look and folded his thin arms across his chest. "It gets longer every time."

The chef looked at the calendar on the wall with the big AXIS BUS SERVICES LOGO on it.

He reached out the hand with a cigarette in it and tapped the day of the month on it. "You know why I got these red days on my calendar?"

The bus driver's lips pursed forward for a moment. "You losing your memory already, Donny? I better tell my sister to divorce your ass and come on home."

The diner chef took a thunderous step forward. "Those damn red marks tell me every time your bus is due to come through and I know I gotta make sure I have a good stiff drink of whiskey before your sorry ass comes through here and ruins my day. That's why."

Suzannah looked at the waitress, worried that this might come to blows, but Alice waved her hand close to the countertop and shook her head.

"Then, maybe," snarled the bus driver, "you can have my sandwich ready to go when I get here?"

Don lifted his chin and looked down on the driver from a significant height. "Well, excuse me, Mister Manners. I don't have it ready just in case you fall behind. And then the egg'll get cold and sticky. Or maybe, you cantankerous old bastard, you might decide to get something else off of the menu and then the damn sandwich would go to waste."

"So I should thank you for being slow?"

Don put the cigarette back in his mouth at the corner where the red-hot tip lifted and fell with each movement of his lips. "Seems that way you ungrateful son of a-"

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