I recently posted a challenge to my readers on my Facebook page asking who was interested in reading a short story about that’s based on the first person perspective of one of my other characters in The Deceiver Saga. So here it is! Hope you enjoy!
Breakfast at Kate’s Café
R. J. Machado De Quevedo
Chapter 1 – Palest of Roses
David pulled his black Jeep Rubicon into the restaurant parking lot. He spotted Melanie’s little red Civic and smiled, feeling a familiar flutter in his stomach. His heart stopped beating for a moment in pure anticipation. Good, she’s working this morning! He couldn’t wait to get inside to see her. He parked next to her car and shut off his engine with a hurried excitement.
Grabbing his apron and a couple of pens from his console, David jumped out of his Jeep. He ran his hand gently along the side of the little red Civic, wanting to touch something she had touched. He was thankful to be here, to be alive. Every time he came to work she might be here, and it gave him something to look forward to.
He had only been home from the war for six months. He’d been an Air Force Captain and had flown an HH-60 Pave-Hawk Helicopter for a team of Pararescue Jumpers in Afghanistan. After having such a dangerous, high-intensity career, it had been hard transitioning back.
His counselor, Pastor Matthews, had encouraged him to find a job to reinsert himself into society, so he became a waiter at Kate’s Café. It wasn’t rocket science, but it did force him to be around everyday people. It was a healthy exercise to help him re-associate himself with American life, void of unnecessary pressure or responsibility while he dealt with his PTSD head on, reclaiming his internal victory.
David stretched then rolled his head on his shoulders, letting out a slow breath to dislodge the flood of memories that had infiltrated his mind. He took in a deep breath through his nose, smelling the crisp morning spring air and smiled softly. He was alive and had a chance to work with Melanie Bishop today.
Melanie was full of determination and fire. She sparked within him everything it meant to truly be alive. He respected her wit, her tenacity, and her desire to work a full-time job while going to college. She gave him another reason to have hope—the hope that someday he would be a part of her life and belong to her. It was a hope that constantly nourished his determination to recover.
David sighed and swooped down to pick a little yellow flower out of the colorful flowerbed. He looked around to make sure no one was watching as he lifted her windshield wiper and secured it underneath.
Just a harmless token of my affection for the woman I adore, David thought with contentment.
He entered the restaurant through the rear entrance and walked through the dimly lit, overcrowded storage area, to the brightly illuminated office and staff lockers beyond. David went to his tiny locker and threw some of the extra pens inside, grabbed his notebook and stuffed it in the pocket of his apron. It wasn’t really for taking orders. His quick mind and sharp memory made even the special requests for extra ranch and no onions seem elementary.
The little notebook was mostly used to write little notes and slip them into Melanie’s apron or into the slot in her locker as he’d walk by, and, if he could manage it, clip them to her windshield before he’d leave.
David looked up, having felt her coming toward him like a warm breeze, her soul calling to his like a whisper. He looked to his right, seeing her approach, her eyes down as she watched her step on the crowded floor, boxes scattered haphazardly here and there from that morning’s delivery. Her arms were full of menus making it hard for her to see where her feet where landing.
The creamy white skin of her face and neck looked so smooth. It could’ve been blended from silk and sunlight.
Melanie looked up and saw David watching her approach.
His chest swelled with the air he had to remind himself to take in.
Seeing his eyes on her, she blushed, a warm pink rushed up her cheeks betraying her embarrassment, and she bit her lower lip, showing how nervous she was.
She’s so lovely. She always bites that lower lip. If she only knew how it drives me crazy. God, I want so badly to kiss her.
David watched as she dropped her eyes back to the floor before she stiffened her shoulders and pulled them back up with a blaze of defiance. He couldn’t help but smile at her show of will. He loved that about her.
Melanie’s defiant eyes reconnected with his, and he saw her struggle to not look away from him. She had the clearest blue eyes he’d ever seen. He felt drawn to them, unable to stop himself from falling into their endless depths.
(To Be Continued…Stay Tuned)
Dear reader: I welcome your comments or questions!
R. J. Machado De Quevedo
(Author of ‘The Deceiver Saga’, Speaker, Blogger, Dreamer)
Follow me on Twitter @TheDeceiverSaga
Author R. J. Machado De Quevedo is also a member of Tate Speakers Bureau. To hire R. J. to come speak at your event, please review her Electronic Press Kit at: http://tatespeakers.com/epk/?id=18111