Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
A moment later, she burst through the swinging door to the kitchen, and we grabbed each other in a hug. She squeezed me hard enough to realign my spine, and then she thrust me out at arm’s length and exclaimed, “Let me look at you!”
I’d known Myra all my life, and she’d seemed old even when I was a kid. Now, she was probably in her seventies and still working here full-time, despite her family’s ongoing efforts to get her to retire. She wore her dyed red hair in a helmet that was crunchy with hairspray, and she was never going to give up her blue eye shadow, which matched the light blue uniform she wore with pride.
After thoroughly scrutinizing me, she announced, “You’re too skinny! You look good, though. I like the purple hair, that’s fun.”
“And you look great, Myra. You haven’t aged a day.”
She grinned and gave my arm a playful slap. “You don’t need to tell me that. It’s not like I don’t own a mirror.” With that, she turned her attention to Devon and asked, “Are you going to introduce me to this tall drink of water?”
“Myra Castaneda, please meet Devon Hughes. Devon, this is the wonderful woman I told you about, who gave me a Rubik’s Cube and puzzle books and took such good care of me when I was growing up here at the diner.”
Devon said, “It’s a true pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” and stuck his hand out.
Instead of shaking hands, Myra treated him to a hug and a spinal realignment as she told him, “Now, you just call me Myra, cutie. Any friend of Kit’s is a friend of mine.” She let go of him and asked, “Are you two hungry? I can have Javi cook you up a couple of Kit’s favorite grilled cheese sandwiches.”
“Thanks, but maybe later,” I said. “Would it be okay if I showed Devon around?”
“You’re home when you’re here, kiddo,” she said. “No need to ask permission.”
I led Devon back to the kitchen and introduced him to Javier, who’d been working here for almost a decade. My dad had been thrilled when both Javi and Myra had enthusiastically agreed to stay on after he bought the place.
Next, I led Devon to the back of the kitchen and muttered, “I can’t believe this is still here.” The words “Kit’s Corner” were painted on the wall in primary-colored letters, along with a cartoony landscape of hills, trees, and flowers under puffy white clouds. Beneath that was the little, beat-up wooden table my dad had found at a yard sale and brought in over twenty years ago.
I ran my hand over the table’s surface, which was an unintentional mosaic of paint, glue, stickers, and markers. “Frank, the previous owner, was a kind man. He let me spend every day here after school, because he knew my dad couldn’t afford childcare. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure why the health inspector let him get away with it.”
When I turned to Devon, I was surprised to see a lot of emotion in his eyes. “This isn’t a bad memory,” I said, as I took his hand. “The days felt pretty long sometimes, but I was happy to have my dad close by. And the whole staff took care of me. I always had plenty to eat, and Myra treated me like I was one of her grandkids. I was lucky.” He nodded, but he still seemed like he felt sorry for me. Or maybe this was about him. “What did your mom do for childcare while she was working?”
“She paid the neighbor to look after me. This woman had four kids of her own, so she didn’t really care what I did. By the time I was nine, I’d tell her I was going back to my apartment for a while, and then I’d spend hours roaming the neighborhood. I’m surprised nothing bad ever happened to me, since we lived in a rough part of town.”
“That must have been lonely.”
He tried to shrug it off. “You get used to it.” He pointed to an open doorway and changed the subject by asking, “What’s in there?”
“That used to be Frank’s office. I was never allowed to go in there, but I’d sneak peeks once in a while. Being banished from it made it seem exciting, but from what I could see it was just a regular old room.” I walked up to it and stopped before crossing the threshold. “It became my dad’s office when he bought the place three years ago, but it still feels like I’d be breaking the rules if I went in there.”
Devon teased, “Come on. Live a little,” as he took my hand and led me inside.
The office was pretty basic, maybe ten feet by twelve with a desk and file cabinet at one end and a couch at the other. The furniture was the same stuff that had been here for decades, and the walls were the same fake wood paneling they’d always been. But there were a few changes, including a plant and a cluster of framed photos on the now much tidier desk.