The roadside cafe at Christmas

Roadside Cafe

Listening to the familiar spit and crackle of eggs in the large pan, I wondered again whether there was more for me then this grotty roadside café. The familiar pop pop pop of the coffee percolator and the cries from Frank as he ran in and out of the kitchen.  Rubbing my hands on my apron I grab my notebook and push my way through the door.  Working as a waitress I can confirm that my legs feel like knives stabbing me, a 12-hour shift is never fun.  Serving people 24 hours a day I have witnessed many late nights and hard early mornings.  Today was not proving any different. 11am on a Monday and I’ve been here since 2am.

The busy hum of customers and dirty tables demanding to be wiped.  Watching the snow fall outside I glance around the busy room and notice three small children sat wearing shorts, T-shirts and baseball caps.  There is a man with them, sat talking into his phone, wearing a thick heavy brown coat. Is this picture normal? Are these his children? surely they are cold.  Walking to their table, the man look up.  The children remain silent as he orders coffee, three coca colas and four burgers.  Should I be concerned? He was feeding them after all. Maybe all is fine. Serving other customers, I continue to keep an eye on them. Mentioning my concerns to Geoff the cook he told me that I’ve read too many books and there is nothing wrong.

Concerns

They had been there about 30 minutes when I see the girl walk to the toilet, I now follow and pretend to clean around the wash basins. Hearing sobs I know I am right to be concerned. Hearing her pull the lock back she then looks at me, reaches into her pocket, hands me a piece of paper and leaves.

Stunned I now read it.  “I saw you look, help! Blue Nissan, bad man.”

Walking out to the car park, I find the car and photograph the registration. Now phoning the police I tell them what has happened and advise them of the car.

In the café they are getting up to leave, how can I stop them?  Phoning Geoff I tell him to act quickly we need to delay the man and children.  Despite his reservations I was relieved that he acted quickly, bringing out more coffee and cola.

What now?

“More drink before you hit the road? the coffee is bottomless today”, he said kindly.

The man looked at him suspiciously as the children sat back down eyeing the cola greedily. The man grumbled about his schedule, and said they must go.  The small girl now protested wanting more drink.  Staring Geoff down, the man started to get angry.

“What is this? We are leaving”.

Its now that two police cars arrive in the car park, and the man’s face turns to panic.

“Daisy what did you do?”

“You’re a bad man”

“And you tell too many stories.”

Christmas

Here the story evolves.  When you see children not dressed appropriately for the weather, or a child hands you a note, it’s easy to misinterpret the situation.  The man had been on the phone to the children’s mum, his partner.   Daisy was the eldest and didn’t like him.  She just wanted daddy which was a whole other story.

Dean had decided to take the children Christmas shopping. He wanted to buy their mum a present.  Knowing that the eldest, Daisy, didn’t trust him he had bought them a burger.

Getting them to dress for the weather hadn’t worked and they had left their coats in the car. Making an effort to get to know the children he knew that Daisy was difficult but did not expect to be speaking to the police today. After checking his story, they spoke with me.  I hadn’t wasted their time as next time it might not es innocent, and no I was right not to approach him.

Watching them leave, I thought of my own life. This man was trying to do a nice thing and bring his partner a happy Christmas.  I will be here; we are open every day of the year. My children will be with my mum. Christmas will just be another day.  I sat and realised that we need decorations, we need a proper Christmas menu and maybe we could sell some exclusive café Christmas gifts. Christmas is for giving and sharing. I give and share my time; we need to make our café a warm and welcoming place for our travellers. Unsure what Geoff would say, I now retrieved my notebook and returned to work.

Shopping

Dean walked the children into the busy shopping centre. Daisy reached for his hand having thought about what she had done.

“Sorry, but you’re not daddy”

“No love but I’m trying to care for you and your mum.  You just need to let me”.

“Mum likes clothes and I’m cold.”

“Well lucky that we are surrounded by clothes stores, come on, lets shop.”

Better to give than receive

Christmas morning and Gabbie was surprised by the three large parcels under the tree. Things seemed to have changed over the last two weeks.  The children’s dad was still being an idiot, but Daisy had been nicer about Dean.  The police incident had scared Daisy, and her and Dean were now talking more.  You can’t buy love but a new found respect was being built.

Opening the presents, boots and a large woolly jumper from Dean and a new top from the children.  She loved them and was so grateful that this man had made such an effort for her.  She hadn’t known him long, but he was certainly a really good man.

At Christmas time it is always better to give then to receive, whether it’s giving your time or giving a present. Whatever you do, bring someone joy!

Happy Christmas everyone! Hope you have a lovely time!

 

For more see The empty school classroom

Written for Writers Unite! photo prompt