The Finding of the Sacred Stall

My life is like this bathroom stall. People come into it; go about their business and leave. Some people cause a big stink and others have come in to clean up the mess left behind. I have stood by love and pain, but have not truly experienced either. I have been dinged and dented but through it all I still stand. People have come into my life that left their mark, written boldly for other occupants to see. Their work may be beautifully eloquent of terribly crude but I have had no say in how they have made their impression on me, but what they did and what they wrote remains with me until someone comes to wash me clean or take me down"

Lame lame lame... One would think that over the many years that this composition has been revised I would have written something that meant a little more. That it would run a little deeper. That it might cause a little more thought.

This is why as of now this work of mine has remained unread. Unwilling to unveil the masterpiece of my adolescence until it was perfected has caused the master plan, created when I was but 12 years of age, never made complete. The perfect stall wall has not been found. The time has never been just right. The composition was has never really been...perfect.

Maybe I've been afraid, afraid of getting caught or afraid of people judging me. If my thoughts meaning nothing to anyone.

I think mostly it's because I'm not rebellious enough, proven by the mere fact that I am the girl who has been planning the debut act of defacing public property for nine years… and counting. My only rebellious action I have ever really even thought up has been on hold for years and years.

"I am every parent’s dream child." I say aloud into the empty room.

"Jenny!!!" The sound of my mother’s voice is slightly muffled by the bathroom walls "If you are just in there daydreaming again, then could you please come out and give me a hand with dinner?"

Just not my parents dream. Its funny how that all worked out.

I can hear the sounds of my mother digging through the pots cupboard. I'm pretty sure she's making more noise than is absolutely necessary in order to hurry me up, so I slowly start washing my hands at the sink. I smile as I consider flushing the toilet; two can play her sound effects game.

I smirk reaching for the handle.

"Jenny, you’re going to have to wash your hands all over again if you try doing that again"

My mother the mind reader.

I leave my sanctuary with a sigh. Apparently our washroom is rigged with some daydreaming monitoring device, it's the only option since there is no way I am going to join my brothers group of believers that my mother has super human powers. Though I have to admit their case is a strong one.

Being once more caught in the act of daydreaming, I stand before my mother awaiting the traditional head in the clouds speech.

But what's this, does it not come today? Is there something wrong with my mother? Did I get stuck in my fantasy world and now am unable to experience what reality really is?

"Jenny," Alas, she speaks. "There is going to be a guest for dinner tonight, so set the table for 6"

I remain shocked as I move to the cupboard of dishes. What has become of the "if you only would keep your mind on what your doing, on your family, your work, on life in general, you and the rest of us would be much better off" to the one that always makes me smile/cringe "if your going to spend all that time in the washroom than the least you could do is look in the mirror and fix your hair". With the absence of these phrases I have it in my mind that there must be something fishy going on around here.

"After you finish setting the table, please put on some decent clothing and for goodness sake, if you are going to spend all your time in the washroom, you could at least find some time to fix your hair."

Darn, I was really hoping that my theory of not being able to escape my fantasy world was founded on the truth. But again reality has beaten me down.

Is it my over active imagination or did she kind of half heartedly tack that on to the end.

I narrow my eyes at her in such a way that might say 'I'll let this slide...this time'. Luckily she didn't see it because I think she might have seen it as 'look who's talking you big haired buffoon' which, of course, I wouldn't eye talk to my mother about. At least not since I was 14 and learned my lesson, rather swiftly.

"Sure, mom” Oh yes, that was very witty. And original too.

Inside my head I tell myself that I really need to be a little more vocal if people are ever to discover the witty and charming side of me. Unfortunately I still have this problem of getting what inside my head, out. But I practice daily.

In the privacy of my washroom, of course.

Time to focus. "Set the table, get changed, fix my hair". I go around the table putting down the utensils kind of chanting this under my breath. Very quietly under my breath, since the time that my father caught me at my 'focus chant' he had mocked me mercilessly throughout the meal. "Pick up fork, scoop peas, chew and swallow...pick up fork, scoop peas, chew and swallow..." My brothers thought this to be hysterically funny, which of course only prompted my father to double his efforts in tormenting me. And now for some reason I have recurring nightmares about peas...

After the first part of my focus chant was fulfilled I move into phase two of the preparing for dinner mission. Getting changed. Apparently my tracksuit is not posh enough for the incoming guest. So I search out my black pants and some frilly black top. This despite being described as frilly is actually quite cute. But more than that, it serves a very important role in the evening events. See, I happen to know that my mother is making spaghetti for dinner and I also just happen to know that I am the world’s sloppiest spaghetti dinner. So I figure that if the shirt doesn't save me from embarrassment during the dinner at least it won't keep a stain for the next time.

On to the last step, the fixing of the hair.

I once suggested to my mother that we should just get my hair buzzed off completely. She said that it would have been a great idea had my head a proper shape to it. Even now I loathe the birth canal.

With a sound of disgust I throw my thick curls into a stretched out hair band.

And now for the big dinner. It's not everyday we have a guest for dinner. We get invited out to other people's houses all the time; it is part of life when your dad is a pastor. My father doesn't invite a lot of people over, I think he is afraid that people will think he plays favorites and then get all offended. All this has been ok with me, because I am hopeless when it comes to eating spaghetti and since that seems to be the only food my mom likes to feed guests, supper has always been awkward for me. You have to understand that my mother has a habit of ruining food; spaghetti appears to be the only meal she can consistently make without a problem.

A knock sounds at the door downstairs. Could it be the mysterious guest? The unknown person for which my mother has her spaghetti sauce burning on the stove?

Burning!

If the meal goes wrong this time it will be back to the lumpy oatmeal days. I make a dash for the kitchen. I brush past my parents and the mystery guest who are gathered at the front door and slip into the kitchen. Fortunately, I get to the bubbling pot of sauce just in time to stir and save the meal, save the sauce and most importantly save myself from my mother's terrible oatmeal she makes for days after she has a particularly bad cooking experience.

The feeling of relief that generally hits me after a daring attempt to save the stomachs of my family was short lived, because my mother announced it was time for dinner.

"Dear God" I say as I stir the sauce, "I know that I have come to you with this petition before. But if you could just reward me for my saving the sauce, I would really really like to be able to get through this dinner with out having a shirt full of supper. I know this is petty, but I pray you can do this out of your admiration of my persistence, please! In Jesus’ name, amen."

This time I really hope the prayer works this time. I have considered all the times my pleas have failed in the past to be my fault, caused by a lack of faith or some such thing.

I'm startled by "Jenny, if you want to eat over by the stove, its ok with me but, please save some of the sauce for the rest of us." Ha ha ha, I think to myself, as I smile at my dad who was just getting to the dining room table. A girl can't even pray over the stove without someone cracking a joke in this house.

I pick up the steaming pot and bring it over to the table. In the other room I could hear the sound of my mother introducing the guest to Tommy and David. I couldn't hear what was said exactly, until my mom’s voice rang out loud and clear.

"Boys turn that thingy off and head to the table." Only my mother could say the word 'thingy' in an order and still have people obey her without question.

The time has come to meet the nameless guest that will be dining with our little family tonight. Who will it be? Someone I know...doubtful, my parents should have mentioned a name at least, I really need the time to prepare myself.

Be prepared. It would be my motto if it wasn't the Boy scouts first.

I wasn't prepared for him though.

An imaginary curtain had been drawn, in my mind by pink and yellow sparkling ballerina-like fairies, to reveal the gorgeous face of Max Matthews.

If my life is a bathroom stall, then Max was the person who walked past my open door and went to wait in line at the sink.

He was the golden boy from the high school I had attended when my father lead a different church. In the yearbook they had a page solely devoted to him, titled "taking it to the Max".

I had half of my leg in that yearbook.

High school is long over now and I am pretty sure that just because he is in my dwelling place, sitting at the table where I have endures countless stomach turning meals, does not mean that I am any closer to being in his social sphere as I was way back in my youth.

** Warning to hopes, don't come up too high... its not like he will remember you...**

"No way! Jenny, right?"

** Warning to head, don't get too big just because the most perfect guy you've ever taken a peek at actually remembered who you are**

He grinned over at me, "Who would have thought I'd leave Jasper and after my first interview, I'd run into another Wildcat?"

Ahhh, he has a wonderful grin.

I have really got to snap out of this... Focus now, knees don't wobble, take a seat, and eat the meal...knees don't wobble, take a seat, and eat the meal...

The focus chant obviously doesn't work if you don't say it aloud. My knees wobbled to the point that I fell into the chair. God did his part though, I didn't get spaghetti on my shirt. I guess that the best solution to my spillage problem is not to eat the food.

My stomach felt like it was full of those pink and yellow fairies. As of yet, I can't tell if those pesky pixies are trying to help or hindrance.

The whole meal I sent prayers to God asking him to make me disappear. It seems he was more concerned about my first prayer I cried out to him as I remain in the company of my Max and my family.

I was still busy staring at my plate doing my focus chant when my mother asked how it was that Max and I knew each other. I was, as per usual, at a loss for words. I knew how I knew him, but how he knew me seemed to be one of God's miracles that you have to wait until you get face to face with Him to get an answer.

So, all together we looked to Max for his version.

"Well it was your daughter here who changed my life, though I somehow think that she wouldn't remember it as such." I think he looks embarrassed. I think I must look confused. And my parents, they look pretty darn impressed.

I went into further shock when my father said, "It's become apparent that Jenny has a knack for changing lives." News to me. "You know, on many occasions Jenny has changed my life too. She started first when we found out she would be arriving. The first child and all that nonsense, ever since her birth my life has been changing everyday."

Oh brother. I am not sure but I think that that was supposed to be funny. Yup, must have been because both Max and my parents are laughing. Ha...ha... hilarious. Having people enjoy my embarrassment is definitely not on the top ten things I like to do on my Friday nights. I really need to cool down my cheeks with something.

Spotting my fathers empty plate I ask, "How would ice cream do for dessert, Mom?"

All the hopeful male eyes found my mother's face, while my mother’s eyes locked on mine and I am pretty sure she knew what I was trying to do, which only made my cheeks grow hotter. "Sure Jenny, in fact I think I will give you a hand with that."

We both rose from the table and went for the dessert. As I ducked my head into the freezer my mother asked, “So, Jenny, how was it that you changed that man's life? I don't even recall you mentioning him when you were in that school."

"Mom, of course I didn't mention him," This is coming out quite a bit more heatedly than I planned. “I didn't even know him. I knew of him, he was THE guy in school. I have never even spoken with him, so how I am responsible for altering the path of his life is well behind my comprehension at this time." With that, and the ice cream, I left her curiosity unsatisfied.

All the trying to clear my mind as I delivered the bowls of chocolate ice cream was in vain because as I sat down I couldn't help but wonder why Max was here, I know he was here for dinner, but how was it that he got an invitation? Nobody seemed to want to bring up the subject. Was my father purposely avoiding making eye contact with me? Is that a little sparkle in my mother's eye? Was I right earlier when I thought there was something fishy going on? These questions and more were swirling around in the whirlpool of my mind when it hit me right between my eyes.

The worst case brain freeze I have ever experienced.

Oh, the pain! It makes it worse that I couldn't let myself show it. I try clamping my teeth together and focusing on a spot on a wall. Finally I had to squeeze my eyes shut to block out the intense cold.

Then I heard it. The stifled laughter. It's interesting how my family seems to find some kind of amusement in my agony.

Still in terrible pain, and once again totally embarrassed, I kept my eyes closed and told them that I'd be OK in a second. That and my attempts at shaking the cold from my brain had my family laughing outright.

"There, all better now” I finally opened my watering eyes to that Max was looking very amused, and very at me.

"I completely forgot how funny you could be. I remember seeing you at school with groups of people always talking and laughing." I was focusing on trying not to look confused while he said all this. I know that I liked to think I was witty by nature. But I didn't think that anyone else ever noticed. It could go without saying that I had never dreamed that if a person really ever noticed that it would be Max Matthews.

I was trying to think up anything that would be considered an intelligent response to what I assume was an attempt to make conversation. I must have looked to my father in desperation because he saved me from having to talk to Max when he announced that they had some things to discuss and thought that they would go for a walk before it got too late.

His announcement stirred up my curiosity whirlpool again but it was taken over by the feeling of relief that washed through me. This whole dinner had been just a tad too tense for my liking.

Once the door closed on their retreating backs my mother set to work clearing the table. I was getting up to help her when I saw my untouched plate of spaghetti. I figured it be wrong to waste good food so I started eating it on the way to the dishwasher. Of course I made it half way over to the kitchen when I managed to spill a good portion of the meal on my shirt.

My all knowing Mother saw what happened and sent me to change and put the top in the laundry.

I really had no reason to put on anything formal, so I pulled on another track suit. I like to think I have a gift for finding great track suits, which would be the reason I have so many of them. My mother thought that first three were nice but the latter five she just rolls her eyes at. She just thinks that since I have so many I should at least try jogging in them.

Jogging is not so bad if your with someone, but when I go jogging with out a partner I tend to get distracted, the next thing you know I am in a coffee Shop discussing my world views with two self proclaimed wise men.

Now that was a good day. Not only did I make some interesting friends, but I landed a job, a job where they make the most delicious apple Danishes in the world.

The old men’s names are Mike and Jake. They are the oldest of friends and enemies. Jake walks down to pick up the papers everyday and on his way back home he stops at the shop for breakfast with Mike, who owns the place. Mike doesn't do anything there but watch over everything and pay the bills. He told that day it was at the shop where the two met. He said that Jake used to come and flirt with his little sister, as she would make his coffee. Jake started blushing when Mike had said that, and loudly declared "I was doing no such thing."

I thought it was romantic, and told them so. That had them both blushing a bit and they started gabbing on about politics. Ever since that day, I have wanted to have a coffee shop romance with an older brother to watch out for any flirtatious customers that might try to steal my heart away.

With no older brother and no man attempting to sweep me off my feet. I thought at least I could try for a job. So on my next run I brought a resume and voila, I was employed. Things go very smooth when you're already friendly with the owner.

Mike gave me the most flexible of hours since I have classes to go to. I am taking culinary courses at a local college mostly focusing on pastry baking and other desserts.

I also take a few courses that are held at a local church. One day I hope to go out in the mission field.

Anyway, I was thinking over something that the teacher at the church had mentioned when I heard steps coming across the front porch. My father was laughing over something as they walked into the house. I was washing the saucepot in the sink when the two of them entered the kitchen.

"Mrs. Jamison, thank you for the delicious dinner" I still hadn't turned from the sink, but I imagined that he was giving my mother a charming smile.

I could tell she was beaming at the compliment by the sound of her voice when she said, "Any time Mr. Matthews."

"I might just take you up on that" That statement had me forecasting a bleak future filled with spaghetti and pesky green and yellow fairies.

As I was working up my nerve to say goodbye he continued with "Jenny it was great to see you again. I have some things that I want to talk with you about. Is there anytime we can get together and do that?"

I was, yet again, speechless. I had opened my mouth and shut it, twice, when my mother jumped in and said "Jenny is pretty busy, but I think that she was looking for a jogging partner, weren't you Jenny?" I looked at her in a clueless manner, but nodded my head. It seemed to be the right thing to do. "Uh, you do jog, don't you Mr. Matthews?” My mother asked, a little late for that question I would think.

He answered, the only answer to the question, "Yes, I do. Well then," he looked at me and then again at my mother. “I will need a few days to get settled in here, is Monday at 6:30 ok for you?"

It took me a second to realize that he was again speaking to me and so again I just nodded my head.

"Great!" That was my mom. "She'll meet you. Where?"

God take me away from here. Please!

My dad looked a little uncomfortable and a little amused. "Jenny, why don't you show Mr. Matthews to the door? Your mother and I will finish up here." I looked at him and smiled my thanks. I have a feeling my mother and father are going to have a very interesting discussion tonight.

Max stepped onto the porch and turned back to look at me. "You know if you don't really want to go for a jog Monday it'll be ok. I wouldn't want to force you into dong something you didn't want to do."

I guess he thought my speechlessness was indifference or even worse, dislike.

"Oh, no. I really do need a jogging partner, and I am extremely interested in what you might have to say. My parents get a little concerned because I do things in a whimsy kind of way. So, some of my jogs can last most of most of the day. I kind of like it that way, I meet a lot of interesting people." I am babbling, earlier I couldn't make my mouth produce noise now I couldn't stop it. "Anyway, where did you want to start?"

After making plans to meet at my house he drove off in the darkness. I turned and went into the house. I could hear my mom and father talking in the living room. I heard some laughing and some arguing, they like to argue for the fun of it. I never really understood that.

I decided that I wouldn't disturb their fun and went into my room to reflect on what was, for me, an unusually eventful Friday night.

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A musical ring sounded in the car. I flipped it open, “Max here.”

“Max, that is really no way to answer the phone” My Mom.

“Oops! Max Matthews speaking, so Mama, what’s up?” I’m pretty sure I know what she’s calling about. I am the first of her children to go out in the big bad world on their own. She is constantly calling to check up on what I am doing, which works out great for me, since I like to know what’s going on back at home too.

“Well, I was wondering how your big interview went this afternoon, did you get the position?”

“Uh, that’s a good question actually. I would say that it went far better than I could have ever imagined. In fact I was invited back to the pastor’s house after the interview as over, so I am hoping” and praying “that was a good sign.”

“Oh. Well that’s nice.” She sounded a little disappointed with my answer. As though she hoped that if I don’t get the position I would head back home.

“Yeah, Ma it is. It would be great to get the job. The church here is growing and there really seems to be a need for an separate person to work with the youth. It’s like God set it up so that they needed a man at the time I needed a church.”

“I suppose it would seem that way, to you.” My mother was not a Christian. So she wasn’t exactly supportive of me heading into seminary but she never spoke against it. At least not with any words.

The rest of my family loved the idea though. My stepfather was a Christian long before he and my mother had met. My sister was saved shortly before I was. When I lived at home the three of us would go for long walks and discuss what we had learned in church, on what we had read in devotion. I lived at home while attending bible school, as it was just the next town over. My sister, Sylvie, would help me study and we grew quite a lot spiritually together.

“Ma, can I talk to Sylvie? Just for a sec.” I had some news that I am sure she would be very interested in. I didn’t add that second part because it would just make my mother’s curiosity deeper. If she suspected in the least that her children had something that they were avoiding telling her she would pester and pry until the only was for the kids to get any rest would be to let her know the whole truth. No matter what is was.

“Max-a-million! What’s the news?” Sylvie’s clear voice rang through the phone.

“I just thought that you might like to know that I ran into a very interesting young lady today. In fact I had dinner with her.”

Sylvie gasped on the other end of the phone, “You go for an interview and end up on a date. You have it too easy. And here we are at home thinking that you were out looking for a church not a girlfriend. And besides that, why do you have to call me and brag about it, huh? Why should I be interested?”

I rolled my eyes, and smiled, she’s far too dramatic. “Well, sister dear, this particular woman has a little more meaning to me than a perspective date.” I frowned a bit, “Besides I don’t think that she really would be interested in dating me anyways, if I read the situation correctly today. Her name is, Jenny Jameson.”

“No way! How did you run into her? Did she remember you? Does she remember me? How did you get to eat dinner with her? I want to know EVERYTHING.” I had tried to brace myself for such a reaction, but in spite of the preparations I was surprised at the volume of the response.

“Well, it appears to be that Pastor Larry Jameson, is the father of Jenny Jameson. I was invited to dinner at his house after the interview. I entered the house, and I thought I smelled something burning. I was thinking about mentioning it to Linda, Jenny’s mother, when I saw Jenny running down the stairs and to the stove. I think she may have saved the meal, tasted pretty good to me. I was getting a little off topic, “I wasn’t sure if it was her or not, I was going to ask, but I was being introduced to her brothers and ushered to the table. Anyways, eventually I saw that it was her, and I think she recognized me…but she didn’t say anything. Uh, but I did….” I hesitated there, a bit embarrassed remembering what I had said.

“Oh, really and what opening line did you use to sweep her off her feet?”

“I may have told her whole family that she changed my life.”

“Wow Max, that was almost romantic.” I could almost see her rolling her eyes at the situation I had myself in.

“You may think so, Sylvie, but I don’t think that Jenny appreciated it much she didn’t really look at me after that and went to fetch ice cream. I really can’t believe that I had said that, you know after imagining running into her again so much, you would think that I would have been a bit smoother, or something. I felt and “still feel, “like a complete idiot. She was pretty silent until she got brain freeze.” I smiled thinking about it.

“Uh, brain freeze?” Sylvie was obviously confused.

I smiled again, “yeah from the ice cream. I tried not to laugh really but then she made a sort of performance out of the situation, it had everyone laughing.” I found myself chuckling a bit in remembrance. “After dinner Pastor Jameson and I went out for a walk and he told me that he was going to meet again with the elders of the church tomorrow and prayerfully discuss the idea of me filling the position. He said that he would give me the final answer after church on Sunday.” I feel more and more nervous explaining this. Oh God I’d love to get this job.

“That’s great Max, really it is, but is there anything more about Jenny?” Sometimes it seems like my sister has a one track mind.

“Actually, yes there is. Even after the walk she wasn’t really speaking to me and I really wanted to talk to her, so in front of her family, I might have asked her out on a date. I don’t think she thought that’s what I meant, and she still wasn’t talking so, uh, her mom and I made a jogging date.”

“You have a date with her mother?” Sylvie asked.

“Um, no. Mrs. Jameson arranged a date for her daughter and I to jog together. Later I gave her the option of backing out but she said it was okay. Monday bright and early I am going to get some exercise and we are going to talk.” I let out a breath, “and that is the end of the evening.”

“So, what if you don’t get the job on Sunday? Will you still be going on this ‘jogging date’?”

“Uh, well hopefully that won’t happen, but yes I think I’ll probably be staying the extra day. I’ve been wanting to tell her this story for years.” I promised myself.

I waited a moment for my sister to say something. Finally she said, “Well that is so exciting. I hope you have a good time.” There was a pause for a second. “If you get the job there, will you be getting an apartment soon? Because I would like to come for a visit and help you get all set up. I need to get out more, ya know?”

I laughed, “I understand, but I can’t help feeling like im being used by you again?” After hearing her laugh I continued. “Sure, if I can find a place I would love for you fix it all up for me.”

“Great! Let me know when I can spring the idea on Ma. Well I suppose I should let you get some rest.” She let out a yawn. “Good night, dear brother.”

“Sweet dreams, Sylvie.” With that I hung up the phone and pulled into a parking spot at the motel where I was staying the weekend.


The next morning waking up in a motel room was most definitely an alien experience. With no personal touches and a television that doesn’t actually work, it finally hit me how far from home I really was. Which truthfully isn’t all that far, only about three hours, but all the same I am a little homesick.

Homesick and hungry. It was time to get up and explore the town that, hopefully, I will soon call home.
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“Mom, I’m gonna pick up something to eat at work.” I called as I ran down the stairs. I always sleep too long on a Saturday and in turn have to sprint out of the house pulling on my clothes with the delicious result of having a freshly made apple Danish for breakfast. “Love you!” I yelled as I rushed out the door.

“Good morning Gladys, can you please put that wonderful smelling danish on a plate for me oh and a cup of coffee too please, smells fantastic.” Gladys rolls her eyes and passes me my order. If I had time I would try to savor the yummy treat but being late already I ate it standing over a table while pulling on my apron.

My first task I take care of Saturday is setting out all the freshly made desserts being the glass counter. It doesn’t take a lot of time but Gladys refuses to do it. She’s convinced that if she even smells half of the delectable treats she’ll gain five pounds.

I start humming to myself as I put out the pies and cakes, all the cookies and squares, the tarts and… well just everything. I was too busy trying to fight off the numbing feeling that I needed to buy one of everything I put out, that I didn’t hear the bell jingle as a slew of customers walked in.

I was on my eighth trip with the coffee pot to the tables when a familiar figure entered the door. I felt a little nauseated when I saw Max Matthews follow Gladys to a table.

I ran, coffee pot and all, to the bathroom. As the door slammed behind me I think I heard my elderly male friends chuckling at my antics.

Another note to self, find friends who don’t take pleasure in you every embarrassing moment.

I had long since decided that the bakery’s bathroom could not be the place to hold my composition. It was small and too many people that I know would read it, besides you can not go around vandalizing the very bathroom stalls that you clean, it just doesn’t work that way. All the same there was something that helped calm me when I enter.

I released a sigh of relief. I don’t know why I can’t act like a normal person when I see Max. I sat and stared into the mirror for a couple of minutes. Well if im going to hide out in the bathroom I may as well do something about my hair.

Oh no. My mother has brainwashed me with her hypnotic superpower.

I laughed to myself as I straightened up my hair Gladys poked her head in the bathroom.

“Feeling collected yet?” It seems Gladys is the only one who understands the calming properties of the ladies washroom.

“Yep, I’ll be right out, only I have to get this coffee pot washed, I don’t know about you but I’d rather not drink coffee from a pot that made a trip into a public washroom.” Gladys smiled and exited the room. I gave myself a wink in the mirror for confidence and followed her back to work.

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I was getting more and more homesick sitting at this little bakery’s table all by myself. I looked around for a friendly face. Most people had a companion with them, and if they didn’t they looked anything but approachable. I was working on accepting the fact that I had to eat by my lonesome when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I looked up into a pair of twinkling blue eyes.

“Hey there young fella, My friend Jake and I couldn’t place your face, are you new around here? If you’re not expecting someone why don’t you join us for breakfast.”

Now what more of a miracle could a lonesome homesick man ask for?

“Sure, I’d like that, if I’m not intruding on the two of you. Heck, I’d like that even if I was intruding”

He brought over a chair for me at their table. Shuffled over a couple of newspapers. And told a waitress that I needed a refill of coffee.

The other gentleman, Jake I was assuming, watched me take a seat. I was a little uncomfortable in this slightly awkward setting.

“Uh, well thanks for letting me join you this morning. I was just getting to feel a little, well a whole lot more than a little, homesick over there. I’m Max Matthews by the way.”

“I’m Jake,” said Jake.

“Nice to meet you Jake”

“This is Mike,” Jake said pointing at the man who had invited me over. “He owns this bakery. So, I’m sure that your meal this morning is on the house.” He had tried to keep a straight face but found it too hard to manage when Mike sprayed the sip of coffee he had been taking when Jake started to make his introduction.

I could tell that they were used to setting each other up like that. I figured that I’d only upset the balance if I refused the generous offer of breakfast. Besides I had a felling that Mike would eventually find a way to repay his friends kindness.

Jake and Mike were trying to talk me into trying some sort of breakfast concoction that I couldn’t even pronounce when the waitress stepped up to take the order.
“So the regular for you two I’m assuming,” I hear a familiar voice say. I looked up to see Jenny again. I smiled at her, she gave me a quick smile and asked. “What could you have possibly done on your fist time in here to be punished by sitting with these old cranks?”

The men beside me chuckled and started to introduce us.

Jenny stopped them, “Oh, I know who he is. I just don’t know what he would like for breakfast.”

I looked back down at the menu, a little perplexed.

“For you’re first time I’d suggest that you just try the bacon and eggs.” She glanced over at Jake…who was making some sort of hand gestures. “But if Mike here is buying go for the steak and eggs cause it’s much more tasty, and you have to try the apple Danish, because it’s heavenly.”

She wrote all that down as she said it, I didn’t even have the time to agree to her suggestions before she walked off with the order to the kitchen.

“So, you and Jenny know each other?” Maybe I was a bit paranoid but I thought I saw a look of mischief pass between the two old men.

(This is a work in progress but any rate or review woulf be greatly appreciated)