Page 9 of Rules to Love By

“I lived in a diner since I was seven,” Marcus said as he undid his tool belt and hung it on the back of a chair. He pushed the egg carton back on the counter, then leaned a hip on the edge. His eyes, hooded now, gave away nothing, though his attention did wander over Eli’s torso before returning to his face, not quite making eye contact this time. “Bussed tables, swept floors, washed dishes. Started in the kitchen when I was fifteen. I know some things.”

“I just bet you do,” Eli mused, letting a smile play over his lips. He pulled a bowl down from a cupboard and set it next to the eggs. “We are still talking about a fry-up here, yes?”

“Of course.” Marcus flowed upright, all the languor gone, and opened the egg carton. “Cow Scramble comin’ up.”

“Cow scramble?”

Marcus pointed at the cheese Eli was now holding. “That goat cheese?”

“No.”

Marcus nodded. “Cow scramble.”

“Ah.”

“Add mushrooms and it becomes Cow and Caps.” He began cracking eggs into the bowl one-handed.

“Of course.”

“With spinach, a Popeye Special.”

“Who puts spinach in eggs?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I suppose I would. What if someone wants peppers?”

Marcus glanced at him, a quizzical expression on his face. “Pepper Scramble, obviously. What else would you call it?”

“Obviously.” Eli rolled his eyes.

That made Marcus smile. Finally. He had a very good smile. “You gonna grate that cheese or just fondle it?”

Eli snorted, but he opened the bag and got to work. They cooked with comfortably little conversation, Marcus offering helpful tips about pan temperatures, oil, and when to add the cheese.

In fact, he was a very good teacher, only stepping in when Eli’s methods threatened the edibility of the food or could potentially burn down the building.

“Do you like cooking?” Eli asked while he buttered toast and Marcus pushed the eggs around the pan.

Marcus shrugged. “I don’t dislike it. But there are other ways I would choose to spend my time, often enough. I don’t think I could do what my Aunt Iris did and run the diner on my own. I’d want too many days I didn’t have to be there.”

“I guess being a handyman offers a bit more variety.”

“And a lot more uncertainty.” Marcus flipped the eggs. “Not that running a diner is guaranteed, but it’s something I know how to do.” He glanced at Eli. “What about you? What are you studying?”

“I…” He considered Marcus a moment, but the question was just polite curiosity, after all. “I enrolled in business studies.” There. Not a lie.

“Not going to be a barber, then?”

“Oh hell no. Ain’t nobody wants me near a pair of scissors.” He waved the idea off. “Got a cousin who’ll probably take the place over some day. It’s not for me.”

“What is for you, then?”

“Still working on that.”

“I hear that.” Marcus lifted the pan off the heat. “This is about ready. Plates?”

Eli handed them over, then poured coffee while Marcus plated the rest of the food.

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