Page 13 of Surprised By Love

Taking a deep breath, I open the door to our family diner, and my heart fills with joy and excitement at being back here for the first time in so long.

It’s like I stepped back in time. The black-and-white checkered floors look a little worn, but they give it a rustic old fifties vibe. Red and white leather benches sit in front of the windows and along the side walls. There are four seater tables with red leather back chairs in the center of the room.

I smile when I look at the counter at the back of the diner with the red bar stools. My throat tightens as I remember so many times me and my sister sitting on those stools while my mom and grams were behind the counter making us ice cream floats. These bring back so many memories and I’m excited to be home.

“Samantha,” an elderly lady’s voice hollers at me. I look around to see who’s calling my name. “Samantha, over here.” I hear the lady say and I look over to see three older women sitting in the booth on the far left, in front of the big window.

The woman waves her hand and then signals for me to come. Puzzled, I hesitate a moment before making my way over. Friends of my grandmother? I assume.

“Samantha, darling, come sit.” The elderly lady with the grey bob hairstyle grabs my hand and pulls me into the seat beside her.

They must have just finished having breakfast. There are empty plates and coffee cups in front of each of them.

“You don’t remember us, do you, dear?”

“I remember you. I just don’t remember your names.”

“Oh, that’s quite all right.” She pats me on the lap. “I’m Marjorie. I was your gram’s best friend.”

“Excuse me,” the lady with the short curly salt and pepper hair says, “I knew Helen a long time before you did. I was her best friend.”

“Ha.” Marjorie laughs. “You may have known her the longest, but I’m the one she confided everything in.”

“Oh, would you two stop?” says the woman with the pixie haircut. Her hair was still dark, with a few spots of grey. “Please forgive them. They don’t know their manners.” She laughs at her two friends. “I’m Joan. We’ve never met. I moved here with my family a few months after you had left. This one here,” she says, elbowing the curly haired woman beside her. “Is Mary.”

“You look just like your mother,” Mary says.

“I do?”

“Yes, you do,” says Marjorie. “You are the spitting image of your mama and, for that matter, your grams when she was young. I’ve known your grams since we were… gosh, we were in high school together. That was a long, long time ago, but yes, you look exactly like your grams.”

It’s nice to sit here and talk to ladies who knew my mom and my grams.

“There you are,” Vicki says, as she walks up towards the table. “Here, let me get those.” She reaches over and collects the plates and cutlery. “Would you ladies like another cup of coffee?”

“Sure dear, that would be lovely,” Joan says.

“Do you want something to eat or drink?” Vicki says, looking at me.

“Sure, I’ll have a coffee.”

Vicki glares at me. “I’ll get Sloan to scramble you up some eggs. I know you didn’t eat this morning.” Vicki turns and walks away, holding the dishes in her hands. A few minutes later, she’s back with coffee for all of us and a plate of eggs and toast for me.

I sit and enjoy the company of my grandmother’s friends as I eat my eggs and listen to stories of my Gram when the door to the diner dings.

Joan hollers, “Josh! Josh, over here.” She waves her hand in the air. I turn and see him. The gorgeous man who helped change my tires the day before.

Chapter Five

Josh

ThelastthingIexpect to see when I walk into the diner for my morning coffee is the girl from yesterday. And what the hell is she doing sitting at the table with my grandmother?

“Joshua,” my gramma yells, waving a hand in the air.

I walk towards the table, not sure what to expect. Samantha ducks under it, and I chuckle to myself. Does she actually believe I can’t see her under there?

“Hi, Gramma,” I say, pulling her in for a hug. “How are you?”

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