Taking The Heat by SD Hildreth

damned night. Have for what, John? Ten years?”
    The second man nodded his head as he picked his teeth with a toothpick.
    “We work turnarounds in the refineries. Have for a decade or so. After work, we eat out. I’m from Texas, but I’ve eaten in restaurants every fuckin’ day for the last ten years. Hell, from Pennsylvania to Wyoming, and from Texas to South Dakota. Anyway…” he paused and narrowed his gaze as he studied my nametag.
    “…Sydney. I just want to tell ya, you’re the best damned waitress I ever had,” he grinned.
    I smiled, thanked him, and walked back to the kitchen to get boxes for his ribs. His comment made me feel so good, so excited, that I literally felt as if I was going to vomit. I’d never been so excited or felt so good about doing anything in my life.
    I often wished I could have a second chance to live my childhood. There were so many things I wished I could do over. The last few weeks of my life, however, seemed nothing short of perfect. I was beginning to feel as if all of my regrets of yesterday were slowly being washed away by my gratitude for what I was fortunate enough to have today.
    After I dropped off the boxes and exchanged a few niceties, I made my rounds cleaning tables. A few trips to the kitchen with dirty dishes, followed by Junior’s jokes, and I was back out in the dining area. Sadly, the two refinery workers were gone. Although he said they would be back the next week, I had hoped to say goodbye. As I reached for the bill holder, I noticed the receipt was under the holder, not inside. I picked up the holder and looked down at the credit card receipt. Under the space marked tip , he had written the number 0 and placed a line through it. I had learned this was not uncommon for people who left cash for a tip. I opened the bill holder to drop the receipt inside. A crisp one hundred dollar bill was inside with the words, Best waitress ever. Thanks Sydney, written across the top.
    As I felt my eyes begin to well with tears, I slapped the holder closed and looked around the restaurant at the diminishing crowd. There was no doubt in my mind; I would never spend the $100 bill. I’d frame it for sure. When I started the job at Toad’s restaurant, I wondered how long I would last. As time passed, and certainly at that particular moment, I knew one thing for sure.
    I was where I belonged.

 
     
     
     
    TOAD
    A man’s character can almost always be determined by two things: the cleanliness of his belongings, and how he treats animals.
    I knelt down and looked at my freshly detailed bike. Not much was more satisfying to me than having my bike free of any road debris, bugs, or water spots. No doubt it would be filthy in another week, but at least for now, it was gorgeous; gorgeous and ready for Otis with a new set of cams. As I admired the black paint and glistening chrome, my mind wandered to thoughts of Sydney.
    As much as I wanted to stop by and see her for the last few days, I had fought the urge and refrained from doing so. The sensible side of me told me a girl like her would have very little interest in a man like me. Regardless of her knowledge of bikers, understanding of clubs, and the fact her brother was doing time in the pen for his club, she seemed to me to be a person who wanted more out of life than a good hard fucking.
    Generally speaking, I was a good judge of character. Although I would typically look at a woman like her and wish she was different than my opinion or expectation, I found myself looking at Sydney and hoping I was in fact correct in my assumptions. The thought of her being wholesome and basically off limits appealed to me more than the thought of her being otherwise.
    If any one thing bothered me about her it was that I found myself thinking differently about her than I was accustomed to. For me, not wanting to fuck a woman was something that hadn’t happened since childhood. Sydney intrigued me; her homelessness, her attitude, and her savvy