I’d found one all-night place, called the Wheelhouse Diner, about thirty-five miles away, but it was no Ray’s. The booths were narrow and stank like bleach, and the coffee was watery. Plus, the waitresses all dirty-looked you if you stayed longer than it took to eat whatever you ordered, even though the place was usually deserted. So more often than not, I’d just stop at the Gas/Gro, the closest convenience store, buy a big travel cup of coffee, and sip it as I drove around. In just two weeks, I knew about every inch of Colby backward and forward, for all the good that would do me.
By the time I got to Clementine’s, it was almost six, and the shift was about to change. Which meant technically that Esther was done and Maggie was coming on, although more often than not – and for reasons I did not understand – whoever was leaving usually still hung around, unpaid, by choice. Then again, hanging around seemed to be all anyone did in Colby. The girls gathered at Clementine’s, crowding the register and gossiping, flipping though fashion magazines, while the boys were on the benches in front of the bike shop, gossiping and reading bike magazines. It was ridiculous. And yet it went on, every day, all day long.
‘Hey there,’ Esther, who was the friendliest of all of the girls, called out to me when I came in. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Good,’ I said, my standard reply. I’d long ago resolved to be cordial but not overly so, lest I be sucked into some conversation about what celebrity was in rehab or strap versus strapless dresses. ‘Any shipments in today?’
‘Just these.’ She picked up a couple of slips of paper, handing them off to me as I passed. ‘Oh, we got an extra roll of quarters at the bank today for some reason, and I put the deposit slip under the bear.’
‘Great. Thanks.’
‘No problem.’
A minute later, I was in the office, door shut, all alone. Just how I liked it. If only the walls had been a cool white, everything would have been perfect.
Usually, my focus on my work allowed me to tune out anything that was going on out in the store. But occasionally, as I switched tasks, I’d hear bits here and there. When Leah was working, she was always on her cell phone. Esther seemed to spend a lot of time humming and singing to herself. And Maggie: well, Maggie was always talking to the customers.
‘Oh, those look great,’ I heard her say around seven thirty as I started on the payroll for the week. ‘Petunia’s are the best jeans, I swear. I live in mine.’
‘I don’t know,’ a girl’s voice replied. ‘I like the pockets on these, but I’m not sure about the wash.’
‘It is a little dark.’ A pause. ‘But at the same time, I think it’s always good to have one pair of jeans you can always dress up, you know? And a dark wash guarantees that. Not all jeans look good with heels. But those will.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Oh, totally. But if the wash worries you, we can pull a few other brands. The pockets on the Pink Slingbacks are great. And then there’s always the Courtney Amandas. They’re, like, magic for your butt.’
The girl laughed. ‘Then I definitely need to try them.’
‘Done. Let me just find your size…’
I rolled my eyes at no one, punching a few numbers into the calculator. Every time I overheard her going on in such detail about stuff like this, the nuances of different brands of flip-flops, or the pros and cons of boy shorts versus bikini bottoms, it seemed like such a waste. Here you had the capability to know so much about so many things, and you chose shoes and clothes. Leah at least seemed smart, while Esther, who clearly followed her own beat, was an individual. But Maggie was just… well, she was just like Heidi. A girl’s girl, all the way, all pink and fluff and frivolity. Even worse, she was happy about it.
‘Here they are!’ I heard her say now. ‘Oh, and I grabbed a pair of these great Dapper wedges we just got in, so you could see how they do with a bit more formal look.’
‘Thanks,’ the customer said. ‘These look great. I love shoes.’
‘Of course you do!’ Maggie replied. ‘You’re human, aren’t you?’
For God’s sake, I thought. Where was the wave machine when you really needed it?
A little while later, I heard the front door chime. A moment later, the music cranked up, this time a loud, thumping dance beat. I didn’t even have to look at my watch. By this point, I knew the nine o’clock dance when I heard it.
It happened each night, an hour before closing, regardless of whether there was only one employee or all three present, and always lasted exactly the length of one song, no longer. I didn’t know how the customers reacted, although I could remember how I had, which was why I made sure to stay in the office.
From about 9:03 to ten, there were always a few more customers and a lot of idle chatter, usually concerning plans for the night or the lack thereof. Again, I tried to make it a point not to listen, but sometimes this was impossible, which was why I now knew that Leah always wanted to go out to the clubs (better chances of meeting older boys they hadn’t known all their lives), while Esther preferred to go hear music (apparently she had some sort of singer-songwriter bent). Maggie, from what I could tell, didn’t do much other than hang out with the boys from the bike shop, most likely pining after Jake, although she swore up and down she was over him, so over him.
This night was no different, as became clear when I heard Leah say, ‘So, it’s Ladies in Free at Tallyho tonight.’