The Kerr Construction Company Read Free

a couple of weeks ago,” I said. “They took me deep into the shaft to see if I’d panic, before they would hire me. I didn’t panic, but I didn’t like it.”
    “It might have been you in that shaft when it collapsed today,” he mused. “Listen, I’ll leave the menu with you, unless you know what you want.”
    “Leave it,” I said. “Don’t know what I want.”
    “Carmen will be your waitress. It’s her first day back. She used to work here a couple of years ago. She’s back from North Carolina. Had a messy divorce.”
    I had just begun reading when I heard, “Would you like a glass of water?” and looked up. She was Mexican, with dark-brown skin, and beautiful. Not just gorgeous, she had an aura. Who the hell would divorce her?
    “Are you Carmen?” I asked.
    “How did you know?”
    “Your boss.” Right in front of her I felt myself melt as her smile penetrated my senses.
    “That son of a gun,” she said with a wink. “Well, you know who I am now. I’ll be your waitress. Oh, yes. I already asked you, but you didn’t answer. Would you like a glass of water? And I can take your order, too, if you’re ready?”
    “Yes to both. I’ll take your special for today.”
    “The enchiladas?”
    “Yeah.”
    She returned with a pitcher of water and an empty glass for me. I watched the serious look on her face as she seemed to struggle reaching my table. Her hand trembled ever so slightly as she poured. I tried reading the book I’d brought, but couldn’t pay attention to it even after she left. I watched her from the corner of my eye as she walked to the kitchen and back, cleaned tables, and handed new customers a menu. I forced myself to refocus on the book. But I couldn’t remember anything the book said.
    Suddenly I heard a crash and looked up at the next table. She’d knocked over the glass of water while she poured. She gave an apology to the lady and then glanced at me, smiling shyly. “I’m so clumsy today,” she said just above a whisper.
    I still couldn’t concentrate on my book. Then another crash. It was from another table, and now there were two puddles on the floor. I grinned her way as if embarrassed for her. This time she apologized to me before she did the customer.
    “I’ll be right back,” she said as she rushed by my table. “I can’t believe this.”
    I heard myself humming the words to the Marty Robbins song “El Paso.” Felina, that was the girl in the song. Now I knew why the doomed cowboy in the song fell so strongly for the Mexican maiden named Felina.
    “I’m better,” she laughed as she walked by my table to clean up the mess close by. She kept looking up at me as she stooped to sop up the water.
    I put my book away. To even pretend reading was a distraction. I didn’t stare at her, but I wanted to be able to think about her freely.
    “Here’s your enchiladas,” she said a short time later. “They’re not as good as mine. Don’t dare tell I said that.”
    “Good to be back?” I asked her. “Your boss said you lived in North Carolina.”
    “It’s awkward now,” she said wearing a pained expression. “I guess in his biological sketch—” She stopped mid-sentence, realized what she’d said, and blushed slightly. “I mean, biographical sketch. I guess in his biographical sketch of me he said why I’m back.”
    She didn’t have an accent. All the Mexicans back home had accents.
    “Yeah,” I answered. “Sorry to hear it.”
    “I have to find my way again, so I’m living with my mom for awhile,” she said still wearing the pained expression.
    “It happens. I’m not divorced, and I’m living in the back of a panel truck.”
    “Why’s that?”
    “I just came from Texas and needed a job. I didn’t have any money.”
    “How long have you been here?”
    “A couple of weeks.”
    “That’s enough time to get a place.”
    “It feels too much like staying. I was like that when I lived in Houston, too, and that was for two years.”
    “You