Raeanne sighed and twisted her long blonde hair back up into a bun atop her head. She gazed at the cracked formica of the countertop and gave it a casual swipe with the rag that she held in one hand, then moved over to the coffee machine to start up a fresh pot. As she poured the remainder of the previous brew down the sink, she casually eyed the few patrons who occupied tables in the small diner. Jim McAllister sat alone in a booth near the back, as was his usual; reading the paper and eating a danish before heading out to another day keeping the peace in this small town. Other than McAllister, most of the customers were strangers to Raeanne -- nothing unusual about that. Jake's Diner was the only real restaurant in this remote part of Nebraska, and most people who stopped were only passing through.
Not for the first time, Raeanne wished she was one of those people.
It wasn't as though her life was bad, exactly; just routine, boring, ordinary. Her boyfriend, Luke, was in the army, finishing off the last year of his four-year stint. On the days when the tedium seemed too much, Raeanne clung to the promise he had made her, of moving on and settling somewhere else, somewhere new and different, somewhere where she hadn't spent the whole of her nineteen years.
A rattle came from the back area of the kitchen and Raeanne smiled to herself, knowing that Lizzie was at it again. "Pans mixed up again?" she called, the barest chuckle escaping before she could stop herself.
"Dammit, Rae," Lizzie answered, frustration evident in her voice. "He can't put a dish back properly to save his life."
The he in question came in through the back door of the diner, the he who was Lizzie's husband, the he who was the owner of the diner and the source of its name. "Lizzie, gimme a break," said Jake, moving towards the sink to wash his hands. "They're just dishes, is all."
"Just dishes to you," Lizzie called. "You're not the one doing the cookin'."
Raeanne's smile became a full-fledged grin. Another morning, same as all the rest.
"Mornin', Jake," said Raeanne, swiftly dumping more coffee into the filter and then replacing it before switching the machine back on.
"Mornin' to you, Rae," Jake returned her smile with one of his own. Jake was the closest thing Raeanne had to a father, even though he was old enough to be her granddad. "Doin' well?"
Always the same question, always the same answer. "Well as can be expected."
Jake nodded. "Think I'm goin' down to the grocery, get us some more milk."
Raeanne knew that the last thing they needed was more milk -- Jake started every morning with a trip down to the grocery, just to see if there was any new gossip that he'd missed the night before.
"Sounds good," she replied. "Think Lizzie and I can run things while you're gone."
Jake nodded again, drying his hands on his faded jeans and heading for the door. "See you in a while," he said as he left.
A customer waved to Raeanne and she crossed to his table to refill his coffee and hand him his check, then moved to the other tables, taking orders, pouring coffee. Same old thing.
The bell above the door tinkled then, and Raeanne turned to catch sight of the newcomers.
A man was holding the door open. He was tall, and lanky, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. His hair was slightly rumpled, and above his beard she could see his tired eyes. With his other arm, he guided a woman up the two small steps and into the diner. She was small, nearly a foot shorter than he was, wearing jeans and a faded cardigan over a white tee-shirt. Her hair was dark, and looked almost black against her pale skin. Her eyes were wide and blue, but somewhat unfocused, and when she stumbled through the doorframe Raeanne realized with a start that she was blind.
The man gracefully steered the woman over to a nearby table, eyeing the patrons of the restaurant cautiously as he did so. Raeanne thought she detected a certain air of nervousness about him, but when none of the other customers paid him much attention, he seemed to relax. Once the woman was seated, he pulled out a chair for himself, then reached across the table to take her hands in his.
Raeanne approached, full of curiosity she didn't know she had. There was something about this couple, something different, something strange. It caught her attention and held it, though she didn't know why.
"Mornin'," she said, pulling out her order pad. "What can I get for you?"
The man looked at the woman, who said nothing, her eyes fixed on some point in the middle distance. "Coffee -- decaf," said the man. "Some eggs -- scrambled... and some toast." The woman remained silent. "Lisa?" he asked her. "What do you want to eat?"
Raeanne was just wondering if the woman was able to speak, when she answered in a low voice. "Same for me," she said. "And some orange juice, please."
Raeanne nodded and tucked her pen behind her ear. "Coming right up." She turned towards the kitchen when she felt a gentle hand on her arm.
"Could you --" the woman's words were calm, measured, as though the question was difficult for her. "Could you show me the way to the bathroom, please."
"Sure." Raeanne watched as the woman carefully stood up from the chair, her hand still resting on Raeanne's arm. Raeanne glanced at the man, who nodded his assent, and then began leading the woman towards the door at the far end of the diner. The woman seemed tiny even next to Raeanne, who had never before considered herself particularly tall. Her touch was light but steady, and Raeanne did her best to maneuver her between the tables. She looked down at the woman and noticed that she appeared to be counting her steps, her forehead creased slightly in concentration.
They reached the bathroom door and Raeanne pushed it open, then guided the woman towards the nearest stall. She hesitated a moment. "Do you -- do you need me to wait?" she asked.
"No," answered the woman. "I'll be fine from here."
Raeanne went back out into the restaurant and gave the order to Lizzie. She then busied herself with several of the other tables, noticing as she did so that the man's gaze never wavered from the bathroom door. Time passed, and Lizzie signaled to her that the order was ready, but still the door didn't open.
Carrying the plates like an expert, Raeanne brought the man his breakfast. She watched as he arranged his companion's meal, twisting the plate in a certain direction, placing the coffee cup on one side and the juice glass on the other. At that moment, the door opened, and the woman emerged. Raeanne noticed how the man's entire body became tense, watching as she slowly made her way across the diner, her lips moving slightly as she counted her steps. It was obvious that the man was coiled to spring should she falter or lose her way, yet he didn't move, only watched.
"Right here, Lisa," he said in a soft voice as she approached. She found the chair with her hands and sank down into it, with an audible sigh of relief. Raeanne stood back, trying to appear busy, but fascinated by them, unable to look away.
"Eggs at nine o'clock," he instructed, "and toast at three. Coffee to the left, and juice to the right." The woman nodded, and reached for her silverware. She took a small stab at her eggs with the fork, and warily moved the utensil towards her mouth. Succeeding at the small attempt, she smiled.
"Good," was all she said, but Raeanne could see the man relax at the simple word.
