~4.24~

Marley slipped into the diner behind a trio. A waitress… the place didn’t have a hostess… glanced over the three people and told them to sit wherever they felt like. Her eyes didn’t touch Marley.

He wandered over to the window counter where the orders went where they were ready for the waitress to relay to the tables. He saw a plate that looked good: bacon, eggs, hashbrowns. The potatoes he could take or leave, but his body was telling him it was hungry for protein. He grabbed it as the waitress turned in response to the call of “Order up!”

“You say something, Vinny?” she asked, seeing the empty counter.

The cook screwed up his face in puzzled irritation. Hadn’t she heard him? He turned to look at the counter and realized he must have spaced out for a moment; she’d already taken care of it. So what the hell was she going on about now?

“No,” he said.

“Okay, and don’t forget table seven’s still waiting,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Vinny said. “That was for table seven.”

“What was?”

He stopped. How badly had he spaced out?

“Never mind me,” Vinny said, and he cracked another egg. “Just losing my mind here.”

“It’ll be just a few moments,” the waitress told a bemused businessman.

Marley simply sat down and enjoyed his breakfast, confident that the others would work things out for themselves. That was just how it went when something went missing like that. Sometimes, it would turn into an argument as nobody wanted to be the one who admitted having lost the plot so completely. Sometimes, everything would sort of click together and he could watch as the server assumed the meal had been served, the customer assumed it had been eaten, and everybody left happy, himself included.

It happened to everyone, sooner or later. Something wasn’t where they were sure they’d left it. They’d stare for a few seconds, look around, move on.

Marley’s life was good.