She took off her apron and checked her bun, making sure her hair was still up and not going to taint the food she took to the customers. As she placed one last order of southern fried chicken to Simon Burkle, she followed Alice out into the back of the diner, pulling her light jacket off the coat rack in back and pulling it on. It wasn't cold enough for a hat and gloves yet, so she was perfectly fine with her jacket.
She stood a little ways from Alice, making sure she wouldn't get smoke in her face as she took out a lucky strike pack, almost gone now and took a cigarette out to light up with her butterfly designed zippo. She reminded herself to pick up a couple packs after work let her off at seven, when the manager came in.
It was quiet for a few moments, a light wind blowing as she inhaled the crisp air and then inhaled a puff of smoke. Then she spoke affectionately. “How you doing, babycakes? Home life treating you well?,” she asked, knowing Wendy could be a handful at times. Alice had it pretty hard for someone so young.