"Honey?" It was Maggie.

"Hey, Mags, what's up?" I asked, concerned now.

"Honey, I'm taking you up on your offer to work the kitchen today. Norm was up all night pukin' his guts up–sorry for the TMI–and there's no way he can go into the diner. If you decide you don't wanna do it, that's okay. But, if so, we're gonna have to put a closed sign on the door."

I paused very momentarily, knowing that closing the diner for even one day was going to take money out of their pocket. Their children were grown, but I had heard Maggie mentioning to a friend that she and Norm had been working their butts off the last couple years to make up for the retirement they hadn't put away while their kids were in college. "Of course I'll do it, Maggie."

She let out a breath. "Okay, great. Thanks so much, hon. I'll see you there shortly?"

"Yeah, and give Norm my best."

"Will do, honey, thanks."

I hung up. I was going to be cooking for people today. I sat there for a couple minutes, but didn't feel anxious about it–other than the nervousness of being able to keep up with the orders that came in. Maybe it was because I had gotten my feet wet cooking for Archer, or maybe it was just because I was in a better place now concerning my emotions and fears. In any case, I didn't have time to sit here thinking about it all day. I needed to get to the diner and start getting the kitchen ready.

I took a quick shower, pulled on my uniform, dried my hair and pulled it back into a low bun, making sure all my hair was contained. I took Phoebe out and then fed her, and rushed out the door.

Ten minutes later, I was walking into the diner, Maggie obviously having just gotten there minutes before me.

"I'll help you set up," she said. "It's pretty straightforward though. If you feel comfortable making eggs, a few omelets, bacon, and pancakes, you'll be fine. Nothing we serve is too complicated."

I nodded. "I think I'll be fine, Maggie. Just let the customers know that this is my first day, and hopefully they'll tolerate their meal being a few minutes later than they're used to." I smiled.

"I'll take care of them." She smiled back.

We got busy taking all the omelet ingredients out of the refrigerator and putting them in the containers at the back of the counter behind the grill for easy access. Maggie beat several cartons of eggs and put them in containers in the refrigerator under the counter so that would be ready for me to pour straight on the grill as well. Half an hour later, and I felt like all my ingredients were prepared. Maggie went to start brewing coffee and to turn the sign around on the door from 'closed,' to 'open.'

The bell started ringing over the door a few minutes later as the first customers started coming in.

I spent the morning making omelets, frying rashers of bacon and hash browns, and pouring Norm's pancake batter onto the griddle. A few times I fell behind just a little bit, but overall, for my first time in this particular kitchen, and cooking for large amounts of people on a timeframe, I felt great about the job I'd done. I could tell Maggie was pleased too, by all the winks and smiles she shot me through the open window. "Doing a bang up job, honey," she called.

When things started to slow down a bit, I started putting my own twist on a few of the dishes–a little garlic in the eggs I used for the omelets, a splash of cream in the scrambled eggs, buttermilk instead of water in the pancake batter–things my dad had taught me.

As I was cleaning up the kitchen in preparation for lunch, I whipped up my special potato salad with bacon, and a roasted pepper pasta salad that had been a favorite in our deli. I smiled as I did it, my heart rejoicing in the fact that this wasn't a sad task, but rather something that kept my dad's memory alive.

Lunch went even better than breakfast as I had a full handle on the kitchen now and how all the appliances worked.

Maggie told everyone about the two salad "specials" and by twelve thirty, both batches were completely gone.

"Rave reviews on those salads, honey," Maggie said, smiling. "Think you'd like to whip up a few more batches for tomorrow?"

I grinned. "Sure thing," I said happily.

By three o'clock, when the diner closed for the day, Maggie and I were exhausted, but high-fived each other, laughing. I was tired, but happy and satisfied.

"Need me again tomorrow?"

"I hope not. Hopefully Norm's on the mend, but I'll let you know." She winked at me. "You did a real fine job back there." She looked thoughtful. "Even when Norm's back, think you'd be interested in making some of those salads as a regular item?"

I smiled. "I'd love to."

I left the diner smiling happily and headed to my car. As I was almost there, a police cruiser pulled into the parking space next to mine, Travis inside.

I stood next to my own car, not getting in, waiting for Travis to turn his cruiser off and get out.

He walked over to me, a smile on his face that looked less than genuine.

"Hey, Bree."

"Hi, Travis." I smiled.

"Is it true?"

The smile disappeared from my face. "Is what true?" I said, figuring I knew exactly what he was asking about.

"That Archer is more than a friend to you?" He leaned his ass against my car and crossed his arms in front of him, his eyes trained on me.

I sighed, looking down for a minute and then back up to Travis. "Yes, Travis, it's true." I put my weight on one hip, feeling slightly uncomfortable in front of this man whom I had kissed. "In fact, I'm, um, seeing him."

He laughed. "Seeing him? How's that?" He looked truly confused.

I was instantly angry, as I stood up straighter. "How's that? Because he's a good man–he's smart and sweet and… why am I explaining this? Look, Travis, the truth is… I like him, and, I wasn't trying to lead you on by going out with you. But I wasn't really sure at that point what was going on with me and Archer. And now I am. And so I hope you understand when I tell you that I don't want to see anyone else. Just him. Just Archer."

His eyes narrowed on me, anger flashing across his face. But just as quickly, he schooled his expression and shrugged. "Listen, I'm not happy about this. I'm interested in you, so, yeah, this pretty much sucks to hear." He pursed his lips. "But, listen, if you've found a way to communicate with Archer, how can I be angry about that? That kid's had a hard enough time of it. I'm not too selfish to see that he deserves some happiness. So… I wish you two the best, Bree. Really."

I let out a breath, deciding to ignore his "kid" comment about Archer and remind him that Archer was actually a couple months older than him. I let that go and said, "Thanks, Travis. I appreciate that a lot. Friends?" I smiled at him.

He groaned. "Ouch. Friend-zoned." But then he smiled and it looked genuine. "Yeah, friends."

I grinned at him and exhaled. "Okay, good."

We smiled at each other for a second, and then he tilted his head to the side looking as if he was thinking. "Listen, Bree, this whole situation has kind of made me realize that I've been an asshole not trying harder to be a friend to Archer. Maybe I dismissed him too quickly, thinking his silence meant he wasn't interested in being friends. Maybe it was me who just didn't try hard enough."

I nodded, excited. "Yes, he just really wants to be treated like a normal person, Travis. And no one in town seems to do that. They all just ignore him, pretend he doesn't exist." I frowned.