Chapter Text
“You’d leave us? You’d leave your home for this?!” Elaine Walters would spit her pie crust if it were socially acceptable, grinding her molars over the edge of it.
“Isn’t it beautiful,’ Rebecca wipes down the table in front of her sister-in-law, ‘a two story house with a yard…we’d have room.”
Elaine nearly spits then, watching the cafe door swing open for new customers trickling over on their lunch break.
“You really love it. I’ll tell you what Becky, if this recession breaks, I’ll convince Morris to buy it for you.”
Rebecca takes back the newspaper clipping of her dream home, momentarily parting from her sponge to shove it into her apron.
“Though,’ she swings from the stool, lifting her small single strapped bag over her wrist, ‘with my brother having the best job out of all of us, maybe he’d pitch in a bit, help us all out.”
Rebecca fixates on a syrup splatter behind her station. It’s a leftover from her previous costumer and her small boy; adorable to Rebecca…adorable enough to remind her of what she’s wanted since middle school…
…A husband, a house, and 4 kids. So far she’s checked boxes off (theoretically) for two of the three.
Brian isn’t the most attentive of husbands, but he’s Rebecca’s first love.
In hearing Elaine’s stories, woes of her friends, she’s beginning to wonder if she should’ve held off on the ever coveted ‘I do’s’ until she were a little older than 18. Even if her sisters in law have become close friends: Elaine Walters and Susan Banner.
Elaine frequents the Ohio Cafe whirl Susan will only show up if the Walters are paying or if she needs something from Rebecca.
Elaine catches her off guard by offering a piece of her Fruit Stripe Gum;
“You’re paler than a ghost, Becky.”
Rebecca shrugs, “It’s the heat. I’m a little dizzy today.”
“And yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.”
“Lainey!” Susan shouts as she enters.
The woman waddles in with her sunglasses, hair a mess.
“One too many Mint Juleps?” Rebecca half jokes, reaching for a white mug with its 5 years of previous stains.
Susan groans, accepting the hot back coffee Rebecca offers;
“When you are still paying off student loans for a degree you can’t find a job in…’ she pauses, lifting an eyebrow toward Rebecca, ‘sorry love.”
Rebecca dips a knee, “No harm done. I’ll finish my degree one day. NASA will hire me-.”
The laughter from the sidelines, along with some remark about how sending a man into space is a waste of money makes Rebecca’s brain smoke with a deep rooted rage.
“What are you drinking- I mean doing for Memorial Day?” Susan asks.
Elaine nudges her sister over the question, “Do you do anything other than drink or plan your next drink?!”
Susan pauses in sipping her coffee, lifting her sunglasses, “I’m having a barbecue. Rebecca? Are you coming?”
Rebecca gestures her hands wide to show off the sign above her in answer to Susan, “I have an 8 hour shift at the café.”
“Call out sick-.”
“Susan!” Elaine
“Rebecca!” Her boss yells from the kitchen, “Am I paying you to talk? Table 8!”
Elaine cringes, mumbling under her breath, “We should let you work-.”
“I’ll be here for your morning shift,” Susan flicks her wrist.
“6am?” Elaine questions with a scowl.
“Well,’ Susan leaves a bill on the counter, ‘brunch…shift?”
“Thank you,” Elaine sweetly addressed Rebecca, “Give our love to Brian.”
The waitress lifts her hand and waves, reaching for Susan’s hand drunken coffee mug and $5 bill.
Elaine’s eyes widen, “Did you…-did you pay for me!”
Susan shrugs, refusing to answer.
“I never thought this day would come-.”
“Do not get used to it, Lainey!”
Rebecca takes a pen to scratch a bit on her notepad to tally another tip and completes her intended task of wiping down the counter before addressing table 8.
He’s a handsome stranger with his pin straight line brown hair and an over comb, lowering his menu with a hand at his hip. She almost recognizes him.
“Morning.”
“Good morning,” Rebecca lifts her pad, “What can I get for ya today?”
“Well,’ he debates between two menus, ‘I will be truthful with you, I've only just moved officially…what would you recommend? I’m somewhere in between the omelette and the French toast…?”
“I’ll tell you what; we have the best sausage in the state. No lie! Cooked to perfection. I promise you, it’s the best thing on our menu. I usually love it. Lately, not so much-.”
“Sausage you say? Well. At your recommendation,’ he folds the menu shut, ‘I have to try it.”
“I’ve convinced you. Just like that.”
“You’ve convinced me. Miss uh,’ he squints to read her lapel, ‘Rebecca.”
She hugs the menu, “Something to drink?”
“Oh, a coffee. Black.”
“Easy. It’ll take just a minute. I just finished brewing a fresh pot.”
“Thank you,’ he thinks for a moment, ‘forgive me, you look so familiar. Maybe you just have one of those faces.”
“That makes two of us. I’ll get your order in,” Rebecca clicks her pen and takes her sheet to the kitchen.
She tends to other customers with slight nausea as the clock ticks on.
She accepts a bit of cash from her previous table, sorting her change.
“Order up!”
Rebecca pivots to address the hot plate, lifting the dish with a blow upward to move the curly bang from her forehead.
She returns to table 8, watching the stranger read through his book as he waits patiently.
“Astrophysics,” Rebecca remarks, almost giddy in a nerdy way.
The man checks the cover of his book, realizing she’s made her deductions off very little information, “Yes- thank you. You’re a bookworm? Or a scientist…?”
“Both. My husband is a nuclear physicist, he’s, well,” she toys with her wedding band, “he works on a government base while I’m…here. We’re saving up-…I’m rambling; Yes I have an interest in astrophysics. At some point I would love to finish my studies.”
“I knew I’ve seen you before,’ he points with a freshly unwrapped fork, ‘You’re Banner’s wife.”
She nearly rolls her eyes and taps her badge she knows he’s already scanned with a subtle clarification, “Rebecca.”
“Yes, Rebecca,’ he smirks in amusement, ‘I know Brian- we were on the same project a few months back. I met you at the gala up north.”
“Right, of course!” Her fingers snap, “Erik! Dr. Selvig.”
He reaches a hand to formally shake hers, “It’s wonderful to meet you again.”
“Likewise,” she refocuses on a cramp, hands subconsciously against her stomach.
“I was moved to Los Alamos on a…you know, I have no idea why,’ he laughs, ‘Government contracts and their secrecy.”
She huffs, “Right. Well. I’ll, let you enjoy. Flag me down if I can get you anything else.”
He smiles, “Thank you.”
Rebecca shares the expression, a lump steadily working up into her throat.
She waits until she’s off the floor, ready to address the room as it spins.
Rebecca hands her pad to another waitress;
“Marge? Can you handle my tables for a moment?”
“I’ve got you,” she snaps her gum.
“You’re the best,” Rebecca makes a mad dash for the staff room.