“I worked here for three years. I started when I was fifteen, even though I was supposed to be sixteen to officially have a job, but the owner, Walter, let me slide, and he’d help me learn cooking skills in the kitchen with him. By the time I was sixteen, I was the head chef back there, flipping burgers faster than anyone around. It was in this place where I fell in love with cooking,” I said, looking around in awe.
Walter’s Diner was set up as a 1950s spot. From the red-and-white booths down to the old-school glasses that the Coca-Cola and sundaes were served in. The decor was posters of classic sports cars and models and actors from the fifties. They still even had the old jukebox that was spinning tunes from that time period. It was as if we’d walked into a time capsule and taken a seat to enjoy some food and history.
“This is the place where you found your passion,” Oliver commented.
“Not only that . . . this is the place that raised me. When my parents were in their moods and they’d take it out on me, I’d come here. Walter lives in the apartment right upstairs, and he’d always let me in, no matter what time it was, day or night, to teach me some cooking skills.”
“Sounds like an amazing man.”
“I owe so much to him.”
When Walter came out with menus in his hand, I grinned. He was the one who brought each table the menus every single day, because he wanted to know the people who were showing their support to his business. He didn’t only want to feed the people of Randall; he wanted to know how they were doing.
As he walked closer, still staring down at the menus, he began to speak to us. “Hey, hey there, folks, welcome to Walter’s Diner. I, Walter, am so happy you’re—” His words came to a halt when he looked up and saw me staring at him. His smile stretched so wide that I was almost certain my heart was going to explode from happiness. “Emery Rose,” he breathed out. “As I live and breathe.”
I leaped up from the booth and wrapped my arms around the older gentleman, holding him close to me. “Hey, Walt. Long time.”
“Too long,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment. “But I’m glad you’re here. Are you staying for a while?”
“Just the night. We’ll head out tomorrow, actually.”
“Shame, I wanted you to cook me up one of your random dishes like you used to do.”
Walter placed his hands against my cheeks and squeezed lightly, smiling at me as if he was a proud grandpa. In many ways, Walter was a grandfather figure to me, and I was a granddaughter to him. He never married. His business was his family, and as far as I went, I never knew my grandparents. So, we had each other. He even called me his granddaughter when people would ask. He claimed me as his family with the biggest amount of love and pride when he spoke about me to others.
“Well, who do we have here?” he asked, turning to Oliver and Reese.
“Oh, this is Reese, my daughter.” I almost hesitated saying the word, knowing that I was back in the town that knew Sammie. I wondered if they’d ever found out that she was pregnant. Then again, probably not. Mama and Dad never would’ve spread that news around. It would’ve brought too much shame to their image.
“Your daughter?” Walter exclaimed with excitement as he bent down to be eye level with Reese. “Well, how do you do, sweet thang?” he asked, holding a hand out toward Reese.
“I do good, sir,” she said, shaking his hand.
Oliver huffed. “I wish I got that kind of greeting from her.”
Walter’s eyes moved to Oliver, and he gave him a stern look. “And you’re the father?”
“Oh, no, Walter. This is Oliver. He’s my—” My what? My friend? My employer? My person that I daydream about kissing on the regular?
“Good friend,” Oliver answered, reaching out to shake Walter’s hand. Even though Walter was wary about accepting the handshake, he did place his hand in Oliver’s.
“I feel like I’ve seen you around before,” Walter said, narrowing his eyes as he tried to put a finger on how he knew Oliver.
My heart began to beat harder as worry overtook me. The whole reason to bring Oliver out to Randall was for him to be a normal human for a day, and now Walter of all people was trying to pinpoint how he knew him. Walter took his hat off and slapped it against his knee. “Gosh darn it, aren’t you Bobby Winters’s cousin from Oklahoma?” he asked.
The relief that washed over our faces was identical as Oliver replied, “Nope, not me.”
“Aw shucks, okay, my mistake. You got his ears, that’s all. Here’s the menu for you all. Oliver, I bet you’d like to know that this menu is the same exact one that Ms. Emery here created for me six years ago. All of the favorite dishes are hers.”
“You’re kidding me,” I laughed. “You haven’t changed the menu in all that time?”
“Of course not. You don’t mess with perfection. I’ll only change it when you come back to upgrade it.”
“Well, I’ll have to do that sooner rather than later,” I said.
“Good. Okay, well, let me get you some time to look over the menu while I go get this sweetheart a slice of red velvet cake,” he said, winking in Reese’s direction. Of course, her eyes lit up with excitement.
“Oh, I don’t know about cake at nine in the morning, Walter,” I argued, being my daughter’s worst enemy in that very moment.
Walter waved me off, dismissing my parenting. “Oh hush, girl. I remember feeding you cake in the morning more often than not. You know what they say: ‘A slice of cake a day keeps the grumpy away.’”
“No one says that, Walter.”
“Well, they should.”
“Yeah, they should!” Reese chimed in with spirit.
Of course she’d agree; she was getting sugar.
When I sat back down, Oliver was grinning at me. “What is it?” I asked.
“I’m just wondering if you know how amazing you are. You created a whole menu that’s being used in a restaurant today. Do you know how amazing that is?”
I blushed and shrugged. “It’s a small-town diner. It’s not that amazing.”
“No, it is. It’s amazing. You’re amazing,” he said, and the butterflies flipped upside down in my stomach. “This is only the beginning for you. I cannot wait to be sitting inside your restaurant someday.”
“Me too!” Reese turned to me and placed her hands on my cheeks very tightly, smooshing my face together. “Mama. You are somebody, and you will do great things.”
I gave her a peck on the forehead and then snuggled her nose against mine. “Love you.”
“Love you more.”
After a while, Walter returned with Reese’s cake in hand and set it down in front of her. “There you go, sweetheart. Are you all ready to put down your orders?” Walter asked.
“Definitely are.” I gave him the orders, and he wrote them all down, then paused for a second and looked my way.
“You sure you don’t want to hop in the kitchen and whip these up on your own?” Walter offered, and for a moment a spark of excitement shot through me at the opportunity to work in the first kitchen I’d ever stood in.
“Seriously?”