CLOSED FOR @duhnan
Catherine hated Anvil.
It was a preemptive and most definitely premature conclusion that she’d come to while still being well within the city limits of Portland, but she had no doubts about it holding up. Not even a full week into experiencing life on the East Coast and she’d already had the pleasure of witnessing her father’s courthouse wedding to the internet bimbo who was now ‘the love of his life.’ Since when? was really what she wanted to ask, but Cat was too deeply entrenched in attempting to give her dad the silent treatment. Apparently, though, that didn’t stop her from becoming his little messenger monkey, sent out to do his bidding when he was too busy with work and Rebecca’s actual kid was nowhere to be found. Lovey-dovey note dug out of the lunch bag and crumpled before being dropped into a puddle at the end of their driveway, Cat skidded out on her bike in the direction of the diner.
She pedaled at a languid pace, hoping to avoid getting a muddy skid mark up her back from the tire’s spray, and in turn had a chance to observe her surroundings. Cat had made the trip between her new home and diner several times already, but the change in scenery was still an adjustment. Everything was small and nothing looked new -- it was quaint. It almost made her feel like she could talk too loud on the wrong street and someone’s grandmother would burst out of their house just to shush her. The seedy looking motel a few lots down from the diner always managed to gain a long look from the brunette (because, honestly, anyone who was in Anvil just to visit must’ve been in sad shape) and today, as she glided by, she managed to spot the one familiar face that stuck out like a sore thumb to her. Her head turned as she openly stared, gaze tracking the girl who looked too young to be locking her own motel door without someone else around. Strange.
And only a minute later, she’d reached her final destination.
“-- I promise, I’ll pay you.” Cat had already passed off the sack lunch to Rebecca and made a move to leave, but her newly appointed stepmom was pleading for the opposite. “Just fifteen minutes of work and I’ll give you a twenty. Clear a few tables, wipe ‘em down, and you can go. Please, Catherine.” The tale of the busboy calling in sick last minute wasn’t very titillating, but having some extra cash didn’t sound so bad... Besides, what was she going to do at home besides count the days until the school year started? “Fine,” Cat sighed, crossed arms dropping as Rebecca’s face lit up. “But I’m seriously not staying until close.”
Armed with a dish tub and a damp rag, Cat got to work. She cleared a few tables and avoided impatient customers as she went, making decent progress until she glanced up and saw that same sore thumb face -- the girl from the motel. Momentarily paused at a booth, Cat wondered when she’d came in and taken a seat. Did she always eat here? Was she waiting for someone? Maybe she actually did have family in Anvil. Glancing down again, she gave the table one last wipe before meandering closer. Cat did her best to look inconspicuous and distracted, but curiosity and her bullheaded nature got the best of her. She stopped right beside the other’s table and hardly gave it another thought before asking, “Are you on vacation?”