Struggles of Summer Love

Chapter 2

A rumbling truck screeches to a stop in front of Harper’s house. Harper looks in the mirror one last time before leaving. Her face is a little puffy and sore. Despite the excessive amount of concealer, it failed to cover up all of the adventures from the previous day. She touches the cut on her forehead and winces. Harper brushes her hair in a way that covers it. She looks out the window and realizes Reagan is outside. Harper smiles as she sees her friend bobbing her head in beat to the music. It appears Reagan is in her own world dancing to the music and ignoring her trucks' odd noises. One foot in front of the other and then Harper is out the door. She climbs into the truck and says, “Thanks again for the ride.” 

“Anytime. How are you feeling?” Reagan says as she starts driving.

“Other than a little sore, I’m okay.”

“You could have called out. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“How am I supposed to get a new car if I don’t go to work?” 

“That’s understandable. This time, don’t let your brother use it.”

“Never letting him use my car again. At least your brother lets you use his truck while he’s deployed.”

“It’s all a matter of if he has a truck when he gets back home. Plus if this hunk of junk breaks, I don’t think he will be too upset.” Reagan says as it makes a clattering sound.

The truck begins to vibrate as they pull into the parking lot of the lobster shack. Once again as the vehicle turns off the vibration disappears. I  looks at Reagan and says “ maybe we should get that checked out after work.”

“I can’t afford to fix it. My mechanic is expensive.”

“Take it to my uncle.” I said as they got out of the truck. 

It seems as if all Coastal Maine restaurants are the same. They advertise lobster, they claim they’re the best lobster rolls in the state, and they’re filled with young teenagers and college students desperately working in hopes to make a little cash. The lobster shack is not an exception. . It’s hidden down an unpaved dirt road. Like any restaurant you get locals, perverted old men and tourists. This time of year it reeks of  seafood.

As they open the door they see the paint chipping off begging to be repainted. The door is barely held on with a few screws and duct tape. As someone walks in, they notice the wooden floor is bare and begs to be refinished. No one got to it last winter or the winter before. The stains of mysterious food leaves there mark on the cloth covered seats. Restoration is needed, but there is neither time nor money to do so.

In Maine, The citizens prepare for two things. They prepare and deal with tourists and then they prepare and deal with winter. Both are never ending battles that no one ever seems to be able to get ahead on. Without it, would it even be Maine? 

"Are you punched in yet?" a curvy woman with overly bleached hair asks interrupting my inner monologue. 

"Give me a second Angie." I say as I type in my punch in number on an old worn out key pad. This keypad should have been replaced years ago. Due to certain keys not working, we have had to change our logins this year. I look at Angie and said, "I'm in, what's up?"

"Brittany and Meg called out. Amanda quit on us. So be prepared to stay late. We are going to be understaffed.  Lunch rush should start in an hour."

"Fun fun." I say as I roll my eyes.  "Maybe we need to stop hiring sixteen year olds."

"Back when I hired you, Reagan, and Nora, all three of you were sixteen year old. You guys worked out just fine."

"Yes, but we wanted to work. Brittany, Meg, and Amanda are all spoiled teenagers. Amanda's dad buys her everything she wants. The only reason she applied if she f****d up and this was her parents form of punishment.  I told you to tell your dad not to hire her, but your dad has started to hire anyone."

Angie laughed and then said, "I agree with you."

Angie is young but she is learning the family business and her parents are preparing her to take over. She is only four years older than me. Sometimes I feel like she is more of a big sister than a boss.   If you busted ass at work and were honest, she had your back. Angie's number one rules is Don't lie to her. If you lie to her, don't expect to stay very long. 

I grabbed a rag from the bleach bucket and start wiping down tables.  Less than 30 minutes until customers start flooding in. It's only June 12th, but the tourists have already arrived.  Whoever closed last night did a crappy job cleaning. I scrub extra hard to get the dried ketchup off of the table. There is no excuse for the tables to be like this. I left at 6:30pm last night.  I look over at Angie and ask her, "Who closed last night?"

"Take one guess."

"Well I know it wasn't you. If you were closing, you wouldn't have allowed this standard of cleaning to occur. But if I have one guess, it would have to be Rayma."

"Ding ding ding! Winner winner! Chicken dinner!"

I laugh and then get back to cleaning. I carefully set the tables continue to prep things for the rest of the day.  Rayma doesn't make anyone do anything. She is incredibly lazy. She will only work closing shifts. Unfortunately she doesn't do any of the required closing activities. She leaves messes for others to clean up.  The only reason Rayma hasn't been fired, is because she is Angie's younger sister. 

The restaurant is finally clean and looks like a restaurant instead of a dump. I guess we are ready for customers. I stand in super hero pose, hands on my hips with my head held high. I take a deep breath and say, "Today is going to be a good day."

Reagan skips over and bumps into me and shouts, "Power of positive thinking!"

I laugh and say, "Do you have any better ideas?"

"Only if you can get that power of positive thinking to make some rich guys come in and tip us well."

Both Angie and I laughed. Angie then said, "That would be nice. The only good thing about the tourists is the money they bring with them. "

"And the cute guy." Reagan jumps in to say. 

Cute guys are defiantly a perk of tourist boys. All the local boys around Seagull Cove are guys I have known since kindergarten.   The guys around here usually fall into two categories. They are either rednecks or children of rich kids.  Neither are necessarily bad. 

Most of the people working at Lobster shack were people who just graduated high school and in Colleges. There were a few exceptions though.  The newest girl at the Lobster Shack, Molly, was working as hostess. She was barely fifteen years old, but she had a better work ethic than most of the people who worked here. Molly was petite with short chocolate hair. She bounced from the hostess stand to tables as she seated everyone. I took a quick peak to see what tables, would be mine.   Angie usually let Molly write where people would be. I looked at the chart and I smiled. A smile appeared on my face as I read that I was in charge of the deck. Its a nice day so people will want to sit outside and feel the ocean breeze on their skin as they eat their over priced lobster rolls. 

I noticed Molly finished seating an old couple out on the deck. I went out on the deck and said, "Hello, "I'm Harper. I will be your server today. Can I get you anything to drink?"

The old man smiled and said, "Do you guys have Moxie?"

Moxie tastes like battery acid and I will never understand how anyone can truly enjoy it. Moxie is defiantly a Maine thing. I smile and say, "Yes, we have Moxie. Would you like some?"

He nodded his head yes and his wife asked, "Can I have a diet coke?"

"Of course.  I will be right back." I said as I wrote the order down on the order pad

I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of moxie and a glass of diet coke. I grabbed an addition up with ice incase he wanted to dump the bottle of moxie over the ice. Most young people who order Moxie want the can to take a picture of. They then post it on social media with some phrase indicating that they tried it.  

The sun warms the deck up as I bring over the beverages to the old couple. They smile and say "Thank you" as I place the glasses on the table. I then ask, "Have you decided on what you would like today?"

The old man grabs his wife's hand and asks, "How big is the Lobster roll?"

"The Large would be enough for two to spit and would be roughly this big." I say as I hold my hands up to show about 12 inches long. "The small would be enough for one person."

"We would like to split a large lobster roll then."

"Sounds great. It comes with fries and a side of coleslaw. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes dear." He said as I finished taking down the order. 

I bring the slip to the kitchen so they can work on the order. As I walk out of the kitchen my body freezer in place. Is that who I think it is?  It can't be. The human Adonis from last night is at the host stand. Molly is blushing as she is talking to him