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BOONE
“Oh my God. Look how cute that place is.” Jem’s enthusiastic survey of Main Street is adorable as fuck. After getting cleaned up, we put some coffee in to-go mugs and I dragged Jem out of the house after promising Dad I’d swing by the station later this afternoon. She’s been pointing to building after building all morning as I show her some of my old stomping grounds. The gazebo in the town square caught her attention, and I walked her around it, noting that they replaced the steps since the last time I saw it.
Everette didn’t get hit with the same snowstorm that Felt did, but it’s still cold enough to see our breath as we walk through town.
Not much has changed since the last time I was home. Some of the storefronts are sporting a fresh coat of paint, but the garage is still next door to the hardware store. Jedd’s car is parked out front, so I know he’s already at work. Ma’s Diner is bustling with people per usual on a Saturday morning. There’s not a lot of car traffic on Main Street though, which is probably just the weekend and everyone getting a slower start with not having to be at work.
There are a few people out and about, and most of them know me, raising a hand or saying hello. A lot of them, not all, sport surprised expressions at seeing me in town, but are nice enough not to mention it in front of Jem.
Ma’s Diner is on the right, and tugging on Jem’s hand, I pull her behind me and through the front door of the restaurant, a bell on the door tinkling and announcing our entry.
I spot a booth in the back and beeline toward it, pleased to find an empty spot, as they can be hard to come by on the weekends, especially the later it gets.
“Oh wow. Look at this place.”
I look around, just seeing Ma’s Diner, but try to take it in from a newcomer’s perspective. The sixties-style theme that’s running through the diner is evident in the checkered flooring and neon lights. There’s even an old-school jukebox over in one of the corners that doesn’t get turned on before ten a.m. under threat of death from the diner’s owner, Dawn.
As if summoning her, Dawn makes her way toward us, not looking any older than the last time I saw her. Black hair cut short, there’s a little bit more silver weaving through the threads. Dark brown eyes cut to Jem as she pulls a pad out of her pocket. I know that if I were to check the other pocket of the apron, a pack of Virginia Slims would be there along with her trusty Bic lighter. She and my ma grew up together, the two of them best friends, and seeing her has a pang hitting me square in the chest.
“Hey Dawn,” I say.
Her eyes are on Jem, but at the sound of my voice, she whips to me and her mouth flops open in surprise as she does a double take.
“Holy shit. Boone Calhoun,” she croons. “Don’t just sit there, get up and give me a goddamn hug.” Her raspy voice is loud as she waves me out of the booth, and I wince.
Well, if the whole town didn’t know I was home, they sure do now.
I stand from the booth and wrap my arms around her. She smells faintly of tobacco and roses, her signature scent, and I breathe her in.
Is it possible to be homesick when you’re in fact home?
“How are you doing?”
She wags a finger at me. “Are you home? Home for good?” she asks, the questions like gunshots through the now much quieter diner.
“Er.” I glance at Jem, not knowing how to answer that question. I just got my mind around accepting the job here with my dad, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to Jem about what that’s going to mean for us. Her avoidance of the discussion this morning didn’t leave me with warm and fuzzy feelings where we’re concerned.
“Hi, I’m Jem. And you are?”
Fuck. Where are my damn manners?
“Jem, this is Dawn; she owns the diner. Dawn, this is Jem, my girlfriend.”
Dawn eyes Jem’s hand for a split second before taking it and pulling her from the booth into a bear hug.
Jem’s arms hang at her sides for a second, and a soft “oof” accompanies her being squashed before she returns the hug with gentle pats on Dawn’s back.
“Nice to meet you,” Jem says with a smile once she pulls out of the embrace.
“Likewise. You from that town this one’s been hiding in?” Dawn asks.
There are eyes all around us, and I can practically feel them taking notes of everything we say.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m from Felt. Boone’s a ranger for the park service there.” If Jem’s fazed by having all eyes on her, she’s not showing it.
Dawn smiles at Jem and opens her mouth, but I cut in. “Dawn, we were looking to get some food, not the third degree.” I say the words kindly, but this isn’t the time or place to get into everything. I can deal with my brothers being pissed that I left, but I’m not up to the public scrutiny a dressing down in the town diner would bring.
A hard stare in place, Dawn takes a second to look me over. “Fair enough. But we missed you around here, boy.”
