Page 9 of Waitress at the Shadow Ridge Inn
I dropped my gaze again and vigorously wiped the floor instead, intent on capturing every last shard of glass in my rag.
“Why do you say that? Are they your friends or something?” I asked.
“Hardly,” he said with the hint of a grunt. “They were on the last hayride. I didn’t realize how obnoxious they were until it was too late. Now, I’m thinking I should’ve just left them in the woods.”
Despite myself, I felt my lips curl in the hint of a smile.
Now that I wasn’t looking at him, my brain started functioning again. The Ziegler boys never came in until after the last ride, but here he was.
“I thought the hayrides ran until midnight.”
“They do,” he admitted.
“So, what are you doing here?” I winced inwardly, realizing how rude that sounded.
“My brothers have it covered,” he said, not really answering my question. “And I wanted to give CJ a heads up.”
And then his words penetrated my brain fog. “I was afraid something like this would happen.”
Before I could fully process that, Shannon appeared with a rolling bucket and a mop.
It was the distraction I needed. “Thanks.”
I grabbed the tray, now loaded with broken glass and rags, and got to my feet. “Thanks for your help,” I said to Steve in a clear dismissal.
“Anytime,” he responded.
“Looks like you got it good,” Shannon said, nodding at my torso.
I glanced down, mortified to see that my white button-down was soaked and nearly transparent. The lightweight cotton clung to my skin and put my lacy bra with the pink bow on display.
“Oh shit,” I mumbled.
“Go on. I’ve got this,” Shannon said.
She didn’t have to tell me twice. I repeated the order I’d been attempting to serve, then hoofed it into the kitchen. After dumping the broken glass into the trash, I went out the employee entrance and kept going.
4
The rideback to the cottage took about twenty minutes. The road meandered up the mountain with farmland on one side and thick forest on the other. As usual, I encountered no other cars once I exited the town proper.
Normally, the drive was perfect for decompressing after the chaos that was a Saturday night at the inn. Tonight, not so much. I was soaked in booze, sticky and uncomfortable, and mentally, I was discomfited. Instead of enjoying the ride, I spent every one of those twenty minutes questioning myself and the sanity of staying in Shadow Ridge.
That wasn’t unusual. I started and ended each day with the same question since I’d been here. I answered myself with one or more of the three reasonable rationalizations I’d come up with.
I’m putting some money in my pocket.
I’m taking a moment to pause and breathe.
I’m avoiding reality.
All true, of course. But every time I was ready to go, something else happened that would keep me from doing so. Another bus trip. Another no-show. Record weekend crowds.
It worried me. I was getting comfortable here, starting to feel like I belonged, and that was bad. I couldn’t afford to make ties that I couldn’t easily break. I thought I’d been doing a good job of it, too, but the people here had a way of subtly endearing themselves.
As for the town, well, Shadow Ridge was nice, but it wasn’t the only scenic, sleepy mountain town I could disappear in. I could pick up a waitressing job practically anywhere, and that kind of work was easy to walk away from. When I wasn’t at the inn, I kept to myself and avoided potential social entanglements of any kind. It hadn’t been difficult.
Until tonight.
