WHO: Lauren Foxhill & Lincoln Mayfair WHEN: 1998, mid afternoon probably WHERE: Mitzi's SUMMARY: Linc is sad. Laur cheers him up. WARNINGS: N/A
For the most part, Lincoln didn’t mind helping his parents out at Mitzi’s. He got to feel more Adult, make a little money, and everyone came there which definitely gave him a bit of a cool factor at school. He could tell people proudly that he had a job, and sometimes slip his friends free coffees.
But at the moment it was a beautiful day outside, and all sixteen-year-old Lincoln could think about was how his friends were probably out there tossing a frisbee, and he was inside working, Mom somewhere in the back while he dithered by the menus.
His sulky mood didn’t dissipate when the door to the diner swung open, and he glanced up, bored.
“Hey,” he told Lauren, not explicitly displeased with her, but also not faking a smile. “Coffee or food today?” Lincoln wracked his brain for her regular order; he had a good memory, but Dad was much better at keeping all the Fall City residents in mind…
Mitzi’s was almost a weekly stop for Lauren when she was about twenty two; she no longer showed up for the traditional family meals her parents kept at, opting instead to hide away at the Lynch farm more often than not.
On this particular day, she had an hour or so in between her getting off work and Danny getting off work - the diner wasn’t more than a couple blocks away from Blanchard Drug which made it the perfect meeting spot. Plus, early dinner. Yes please.
Entering the establishment, her eyes scanned the room as she offered Lincoln a small smile… Until she heard his tone. “What’s wrong, Linc?” She asked as she took a seat at the counter in front of him, ignoring the menu near her elbow. She knew that thing by heart anyway. “Both. Coffee and a waffle, extra butter, side of bacon, please.”
“What’s wrong?” the teenager repeated, with a long-suffering sigh. “You see the weather today? And here I am.”
But he moved, slowly, stretching before he stood up straight and walked over to the coffee machine. Through the little window to the kitchen he shouted: “Dad! Lauren’s waffle!”
Then he glanced at her. “Er… no milk, right?”
A laugh came as she glanced over her shoulder to inspect the world outside the window before her attention fell back on him. Then came a shrug. “We’ll have more nice days - you won’t have money to do anything fun unless you play I Have A Job once in a while.”
Watching him move in slow-mo kept a smile on her face, followed by an eye roll. Kids could be soooo dramatic. “No milk, no thanks.” Once he returned with her coffee she spoke again while doctoring it how she liked it. “What time are you off?”
“They don’t pay me well enough,” Lincoln mumbled in return, but good-naturedly. “Cause I have to work for them, they’re my parents… it’s like indentured servitude. I guess I’m off at — eight? They gotta leave me time to do my homework.” Which he would. In time. Before the class, for sure. But if the guys were doing something, he’d be there instead. He slid the cup of coffee over the counter, and after a brief moment of hesitation also passed her a little packet of artificial sweetener. “Why?”
Glancing to her watch, her lips pursed with a shoulder shrug. “Come hang with us when you’re off work if you want. I’ll give you a hand with your homework, we can go bowling or something. Redeem your day.” Lincoln was a good kid, one night coming home shouldn’t be a problem. Plus, Lauren was a good influence. Danny was another story - but bowling was harmless no matter who was there. Taking a sip of her drink, her eyes darted around the diner. “Want me to ask your dad?”
Slowly the boy brightened, until again his face began to rival the sunshine. “Yeah? Would you?”
As much as Lincoln loved the thrill of sneaking out, parent-sanctioned evenings were necessary to keep the peace and earn him important credit. Plus Lauren was older and cool, way bigger than the shit he and his friends got up to. And — maybe then Danny would be there too —
“That'd be great,” he said, and grinned.
“Smiles look good on you, kid,” the words came with her own as she scooted out of her chair and followed the countertop down to the window to the kitchen. After a brief exchange of words, her return was marked with her breakfast in her hands, set on the table before she took her seat again. “I’ll be back for ya at eight,” she spoke through a mouth full of bacon, wasting no time eating as she checked her watch again.
“Maybe a little earlier if you get everything done first.” A quiet tone marked by a subtle wink shared with Linc as her full attention drifted to the small mountain of waffles at hand. Talk time was over, dinner time was on.