We reach Mary's Cafe across the street and down a block from my dad's shop. I notice that she has a new sign hung outside her restaurant, while fake red shutters still hug the two large windows.
As I walk inside Mary's Café, the aroma hits me like a ton of bricks. Oh, how I've missed this smell of pure taste bud fantasy. It feels great to be back. I feel instantly at home. The inside still looks the same. There are old wooden benches with tables on one side and wooden tables in the back. The wooden counter, with malt shop stools from the fifties, rests alongside it near the kitchen.
Jason and the others head toward the tables at the back. About five of them and I crowd around before sitting down. I notice that Luke is sitting by himself at one of the booths near the window. He is wearing a shirt. However, it's not a regular shirt, the sleeves are missing, and you can see down the sides of his rock-hard body. I take a seat within his view but still blocked by one of my dad's workers. Therefore, he cannot see me. I think, anyway.
A loud screech overpowers my ears at that very moment. The lady behind the screech is Mary, who comes hurling around the corner.
"Allison Garrett!"
I stand up and walk towards her. She is wearing a long yellow dress and a white food-stained apron. Her gray hair is pulled back in a bun, and she is wearing her black cat eyeglasses. She looks exactly how I remember her. She throws her arms around me. It is the warmest hug anyone has given me since I've been home.
"Mary!" I mumble.
When our hug parts, her hands are still locked in my arms. She looks me up and down.
“Allison, you're so beautiful and all grown up!" Mary projects joyfully. "It's so good to see you, my dear. We've missed seeing your friendly face around these parts."
"I've missed being home and your amazing cooking, of course," I say with a huge smile.
She hugs me again while squealing. I sit back down in my seat while she hands us each a menu. The menu looks a little different from before, but it still has her usuals. I skim over the front and flip to the back. I run my hand down to where it says sandwiches and locate Robby's Delight. My eyes begin to fill with water, and my heart sinks into my chest.
My dad came here so much and had Mary make him a specialty sandwich every time. She added it to the menu and named it after him. The Robby's Delight is a lot like your everyday club sandwich; the only difference is the addition of dijon mustard and pickle.
"What can I get you ruffians and Allison to drink?" Mary chuckles.
As everyone gives their drink order, I cannot help but look over at Luke. He is scrolling through his phone while sipping on what I can only imagine is perhaps coffee or tea. A plate with a half-eaten slice of pie sits in front of him. His profile is flawless. He is no longer wearing his backward cap, which means he is respectful. That is more than I can say for my group. The boys are still wearing their hats, bandanas, or welding caps.
Luke looks so mysterious, sitting all alone. His hair is a tad messy, but it looks great how it lays flat all over the place.
"Allison? Allison? ALLISON?" Mary shouts.
"Yea?" I say, put on the spot.
"What would you like to drink, dear?"
"A raspberry tea, please."
The guys all burst out laughing and rip on me a little bit for being off in a daze, a daze over a guy I just met an hour or so ago. I have so many questions in my mind about him. Why is he so intriguing to me? I haven't let a guy intrigue me in a long time. I've been too busy reaching my goals to give my time to one.
Why is he sitting by himself?
Mary brings out our drinks and begins to take our orders. I start.
"I will get the Robby's Delight, please," I say to Mary.
Mary, Jason, and the guys all stop talking. It becomes silent as all eyes are on me. I look around in the awkward silence.
"Sweet potato fries with no tomato."
"A side of barbecue sauce for your fries, dear?" Mary asks with sympathetic eyes.
"You remember!" I gleam with a smile.
I look over at Luke again and realize that his seat is now vacant. A few bucks lie on the table. He must have gone back to the shop.
Chapter Four
I pull down the long driveway, and my dad's house comes into view; I cannot help but see it in a different light. I have pulled up to this house a million times. It looks much different today. As the sunbeams overhead, the place looks so serene. Goosebumps travel up my body as I stare at this beautiful little farmhouse.
I get out of my car and make my way over to the old barn my dad used as his shop. I unlatch the hinge and slide open the doors. I look around and see that everything is neatly organized. All my dad's tools hung so nicely. His silly signs are hanging all around, and his crazy stereo that plays everything from CDs, tapes, and even albums.
I run my hand down his workbench that reaches along one whole side of the barn. It is covered with brown heavy-duty construction paper for easy cleanup, and you can still see all my doodles from when I would be out here doing my homework.
I continue walking around the barn. I see an engine hoist with what resembles a big block that has been taken apart halfway. The back end of a Ford Pinto is sitting a few feet from it and my dad's favorite piece of equipment, a car lift. A 1967 Oldsmobile Cutlass on top
