3. Sutton

THREE

SUTTON

“Sutton, your usuals are here,” Gia says. She’s one of the other waitresses here working with me today. Sadly, this is my one day a week I work a double, which is great for my wallet but bad for my back, knees, and feet. The owner, Elora, trusts me to run this place in my sleep. She’s even asked if I’d be interest in taking on a more hands-on approach when it comes to working for her. Sadly, I had to decline. I still kick my own ass to this day. The one thing holding me back at the time was the same thing that’s still holding me back from everything—Shane. My ex-husband, who refuses to get a job and move out of my family home. I was already dumb enough to get married without a pre-nuptial agreement, and the work-around to keep my house in my name and my name only is because he signed the papers while intoxicated. Sneaky of me? Yes. Do I care? No.

“Thanks, Gia.” I look at the clock above the cash register, where I’m currently keying in an order. The time isn’t right for Ms. Catherine and Case Johnson to make an appearance. In fact, it’s much later in the day than they’d usually come. I’ll finish wrapping up my task and then figure out which usuals are sitting in my area. I’ve got a few who are here every morning like clockwork and a couple who prefer to come in certain days a week for the dinner special. Considering the menu hasn’t changed in years, I know for a fact it’s not them, either.

“No problem, hun.” She walks past me, a pot of coffee in one hand and in the other a plate. In order to be a successful waitress in a diner such as Down Home, you’ve got to be able to multi-task. Gia and I have that in spades.

I’m through with putting in the orders from the evening dinner rush, place my pad and pen back in my apron, and set off for my section. I go over today’s special in my head—meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and a vegetable of your choice. Then there’s dessert, which is my all-time favorite: cheesecake. The good kind, too, from Whisked Away. If there’s any leftover from today, I’ll allow myself the sweet sugary goodness. Maeve is the best baker in town, and when she makes her hazelnut cheesecake, I’m in literal heaven.

“Sutty!” My heart melts. There’s only one little boy in the whole world who calls me that, and it’s Case Johnson. I brace for impact, knowing there’s no stopping him from weaving in and out of the tables and chairs. Elora and I love when Case is his usual childlike self, and the diner patrons don’t seem to mind either. Not like we’d care if they did; we’d have no problem letting them know whether they’re welcome here or not. Luckily, we only had one occasion where that happened. The person wasn’t from around Arrowleaf, and we never had to deal with them again.

“Case, it’s so good to see you.” I bend down, picking him up as he wraps his legs around my waist. Soon enough, he’ll be too big for me to do this, and while I have no familial right to tote him around like he’s mine. I could easily see myself with Case and his dad. You know, in a different world, a different life, and a different time.

“We eat dinner wif you.” He plays with the ends of my hair. The ponytail I had in place earlier has fallen down, the ends hanging over my shoulder, and Case is twirling the strands with his finger.

“I’m working right now, but maybe we can have dessert together?” Not once have I ever suggested such a thing, especially to a little boy who’s nearing the age of five and getting ready to start elementary school next year. I slowly make my way to the table the Johnsons always sit at, expecting to find Ms. Catherine.

“Kay,” Case replies. My eyes lock on Ryland’s. I’ve put my big foot in my mouth. There’s no way I can back out of dessert with Case. There’s also no way Ryland will want me at his table. Plus, if word gets around to Shane, well, that’s another story entirely, and I really don’t want to deal with the fallout.

“Hey, Sutton, seems you’ve gotten a cling-on.” Ryland lifts his lips in a subtle smirk. It’s rare to see him this relaxed. He usually tries to boss me around, but it seems today, I’m getting a different version. This man, he’s an enigma. I also know until I’m completely free and clear of Shane, I need to keep to myself. A great thought in theory, but when he tips his head, drawing my attention to him asking me set Case down, that’s easier said than done when I’ve got my knees locked in place and I’m worried about falling with his son in my arms. All of this over a smirk. If Ryland ever so much as gave me a full smile, I’d probably really fall to my knees and do a whole lot more.

“Hi, Ry.” I take a breath, plaster on what I hope is a genuine smile, and continue our conversation, “That I do. I don’t mind, though.” Case drops his legs from around my waist, kicking his little booted feet, and I place him on the ground for him to climb into the booth opposite his dad.

“What can I get started for you guys?” I wait until Case is firmly in place, no longer wiggling and isn’t going to dart off again with his spurt of energy.

“Iced water and a black coffee.” My nose scrunches up. While I love coffee, there’s no way my sweet tooth would ever allow me to drink it black. Plus, there’s the fact I try not to have the bold flavor this late in the day, unless I have to pull an all-nighter to study.

“Choco milk, pwease,” Case pipes in. He’s already fast at work coloring on the children’s menu. His tongue out and deep in thought as he colors the animals on the pages.

“You got it. I’ll grab your drinks and then take your order,” I offer, unsure if they’re ready to order their dinner now.

“Sutty eat dessert with us,” the little guy declares.

“Is that so?” Ryland looks from his son to me. My eyes must be as big as saucers, and I’m unsure how to navigate this moment.

“Yep, sure is.” Case is confident in his response. “We eat dinner, then dessert with Sutty,” he reiterates for good measure.

“Alright, well, you have to eat real food first.” I watch as Case puts his hands on his suspenders, pulling them out, and contemplates whether or not he’s going to start a discussion on the merits of having real food first before dessert. I’d never be a good adult in this scenario. Having dessert for dinner sounds like a great idea to me.

“Fine.” Case takes a deep breath. My eyes bounce between him and Ryland. I watch as the older of the Johnson duo holds back his laughter at his son’s antics.

“Can I get the meatloaf special, hold the gravy, and I’ll take green beans as my side.” Ryland takes the opportunity to order, giving his son a moment to himself.

“Of course.” I don’t bother using my pen and pad of paper. Ryland’s order is easy enough, and I’m sure Case’s will be, too. “What about you, bud? Do you want your usual?” Case’s head bobs up and down so fast I’m sure he’ll give himself whiplash one of these days. “Chicken tenders with macaroni and cheese it is. I’ll go put your order in, grab your drinks, and be right back.” Case rarely eats more than one chicken strip, he’s all about the other good stuff. I’m about to head back to the register, checking my other diners along the way, when Ryland’s voice stops me in my tracks.

“I hope you’ll have dessert with us, Sutton.” He lowers his voice for only our small area to hear. It still doesn’t take away the deep timbre or low rasp of his voice. Instead of locking my knees, I’m now clenching my thighs. Ryland Johnson is surprising me at every turn in the road the last couple of times I’ve seen him.

“I’ll see what I can do. Be right back.”

“You do that,” Ryland tacks on, and now I really need to get their order in. I also need to take a deep breath and re-center myself before I do something crazy like admit my feelings toward him. Yeah, nope, that can’t happen. Not yet at least. Not while Shane is still taking up entirely too much headspace.