Just Desserts by Tricia Quinnies

his way through the day. Still inebriated, his cooking never falters. This time, though, he was passed out cold. Like he was dead.”
    Quinn lifted the red and white gingham tablecloth. “And this was for his wake?”
    “I thought I could hide him before opening.” She tucked Rattle and Hum under the counter.
    Quinn set the cloth on a table and stood beside her. So close, she knew he felt her shiver. He pressed the palm of his hand gently against her cheek. “Sadie, your father is a survivor. He’ll be okay. I’m sorry about ditching you last night.” With his knuckle, he lifted her chin up and kissed her lightly.
    Sadie let Quinn’s warmth calm her and stepped away from him. “Don’t apologize. We had a quickie. It was fun.”
    Liar.
    He took in a deep breath and rubbed his jaw. She noticed he hadn’t shaven and there were dark shadows under his eyes.
    “I have to fire up the stove top and grill.” She stumbled away and went into the kitchen.
    She needed to work.
    Quinn followed her. “Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything short of making beef burgers.”
    She pulled out patties of veggie burgers from the freezer. The blast of cold air cooled her down. “Sure. Pour some canola oil into the hot oil vat and start it up.” She threw him a bag of frozen sweet potato fries.
    He caught the bag. “Gotcha.”
    “I still don’t know what to serve for breakfast,” she said, using her best-sounding gourmet dictator voice.
    “Uh, how about eggs?”
    She stopped pacing.
    “I can make over-easy or scrambled. And I’ve ordered enough omelets from Ann Sathers to figure it out.”
    She tried to contain it, but her lips betrayed her and she smiled. Damn.
    “Eggs will work.” She went to grab a couple cartons of organic brown eggs from the refrigerator. “The diner has never been closed. Even on holidays, my mom had insisted there needed to be a place for anyone to have a healthy home-cooked meal. On the day of her funeral, Lindy ran this place for her.” She set the eggs down next to the griddle.
    “I won’t disappoint your mother.” He glanced at her. “Or you.”
    “Thanks.” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.
    Uncertainty threatened to suffocate her, but she wasn’t sure if it was the diner or Quinn.
    The usual morning customers came through the door. The menu changed to accommodate Quinn’s minimal chef skills, and none of them seemed to notice.
    All day, as long as Sadie served any manner of eggs or burgers, the customers, both hicks and chicks, were happy.
    Waitressing kept her busy enough that Sadie had to keep her talk with Quinn in simplest terms.
    She said order.
    He said order up.
    Sadie took the order from the last remaining lunch customer and clipped it on the order wheel. She glanced at Quinn. When he reached above the Viking stovetop for the peppercorn grinder, she was riveted. His jeans dropped below his waistline and split apart from his white tee. She peeked at his smooth back, just above his black boxer briefs. She’d caressed his hips and lovely butt the night before as he dozed peacefully in her arms. Then scared him away without even a BOO!
    She shook off her disappointment and went into the kitchen. “Can you serve up that burger? I need to clean up.”
    “Of course.” Quinn flipped the veggie patty onto a bun and slid it on the plate. “Not bad for a neophyte?”
    Sadie shrugged and headed to the bathroom. The tank top she’d thrown on this morning stunk like dirty laundry and stale whiskey. Whipping it, and her bra off, she punched the wall hand dryer on, and glided her bra under the stream of hot air to freshen it up. The machine’s hum lulled her into a trance.
    Her mom was dead. Dad was a drunk. He was probably dying a slow death every day he lived and breathed in this place without her. Depressing.
    The dryer clicked off.
    “Sadie, I have your rhubarb, babe,” Lindy said as she pounded on the bathroom door.
    “Where have you been? I could have used your help