The Second Chance (Inferno Falls Book Three) Read Free

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    “Yes?”  
    “Grab the mop.”  
    I look down. Someone’s dishes have spilled. I have no idea whose tray it is until I see Abigail rush around the corner. She’s dragging one of the big garbage cans and has a broom and a dustpan.  
    Ed is still staring at me.  
    “Get the mop.”  
    I squat and start gathering shards of plate and bits of food. Fortunately, it looks like this happened on clearing a table, not bringing food to customers. If it were the latter and if this was Abigail’s table, she’d be facing paying for food she didn’t eat, too.  
    “Get the mop,” Roxanne repeats, marching onto the scene. I notice that she’s not getting it, even though it’s right behind her. Even though this wasn’t my doing. Even though I’m already helping and she’s not.  
    “You get it, Roxanne.”  
    “Excuse me?”  
    “I’ll get it,” Abigail says. The shards are mostly gone. I’ve taken the small broom and dustpan, so she stands and threads between Roxanne and stools lining the front counter. Roxanne makes no attempt to move.
    She comes back, and I ask her what happened.  
    “Did you see that guy who looks like a bird?”  
    I almost laugh despite how irritated I really should be. I’ve developed some sort of immunity because I know there’s less than a half hour left. I don’t know if Mackenzie and I will get ice cream again, go to the library to pick up some new books, head to the park and feed the ducks, or what. I only know it’s better than being here by a thousand miles, and my time on the clock is almost up.  
    “I did.”  
    “He bumped into me when he was dodging around Jen.”
    “You should have had both hands on the plates at all times,” I say. I’m quoting something Ed would or will soon say, and Abigail sees it and almost smiles. She’s normally reserved and harder to crack with mirth, but she’s been almost obnoxiously happy lately. It’s not that she loves working here, though she seems to mind it less than me. It’s that she seems to have found some purpose and comfort: the first in songwriting for some local musicians, the second in one of said musician’s arms. I’m glad for her. But it just reminds me of what I don’t have, where I’ve found my own dead end after a promising life’s start, and how unlikely any of it seems to change any time soon. Abigail can take risks. If the band she writes for decides to tour, she can go. She’s not stuck in this town. I am, rooted by responsibilities I feel guilty resenting her.  
    “I know, right?” she says. The customers have mostly stopped paying attention as we clean up the last of the mess, Ed has moved toward the office, and Roxanne, despite having plenty of tables of her own, is going with him. She has seniority, but no more official power than any of us. Unfortunately, she happens to be a competent waitress and an extraordinary suck-up. She manages to flirt with Ed without getting his hands all over her. She might be making denial-and-promise work for her that I somehow haven’t seen, whereas Ed doesn’t respect me because I’m not swatting him demurely away. Probably because it’s pointless. Probably because this is honestly the best job I can hope for right now, and rocking the boat isn’t an option.  
    “Hey,” Abigail says, eyeing Ed and Roxanne as they vanish. “Do you think they’re hooking up?”  
    “Ugh. Don’t put that picture in my head.”  
    “I’ll bet he’s got birthmarks everywhere.”  
    I make a face, playing along, but I don’t reply. Yes, Abigail has come out of her shy shell quite a lot. I’m glad for her, really I am. I’m not jealous. And if I repeat those things enough, I’m sure I’ll start to believe them.  
    “I heard Roxanne earlier. Is Ed really going to charge you for that guy’s burger?”  
    “He’d better not.” I smile, but that’s not an answer. He might. Just because he’d better not doesn’t mean I’m not buying a burger today, and