Hopewell Diner
They were heading south on Ohio Route 23, coming home from the funeral.
Leland Dixon drove the charcoal-colored Toyota Matrix. His fingers were white with tension as he watched the road and listened to a Cincinnati Reds baseball game on the stereo system. He occasionally spouted things like “Dammit, learn how to play,” and “All Riiiight,” or “What the hell was that?”
Next to him sat his wife, Marnie Dixon, dressed in a black turtle-neck cashmere sweater and black slacks. Her voice rose and fell with emotion as she spoke with various friends and relatives using her 3G cell phone. “I’m sorry, I know, we’ll be a little bit late. Yes, of course we’ll pay you time-and-a-half,” she said. And then, “… I don’t know what we’re going to do. It was an unexpected development….” she glanced over her shoulder to where her mother sat behind the driver’s side.
Tiny and silent, eighty-four year old Eloise Sherman looked fragile and broken, strapped with a three-point belt to the gray vinyl of the back seat. She stared out the window to her left while the underbrush and farms and buildings of rural Ohio flashed by her eyes. Beside her, taking the unpopular middle position, her grandson ten-year-old Josh Dixon pretended she didn’t exist. His ears were stopped by metallic-green buds as he listened to his favorite iPod songs, his fingers manipulating a Nintendo DS. Seated behind his mother, on the other side of Josh, was thirteen-year-old Benjamin Dixon, watching a portable DVD player in his lap, furiously texting on his iPhone.
As the Matrix rolled through Waverly City, and approached Piketon, no one inside the air-conditioned vehicle seemed aware of or distracted by the noises or conversations of each other. Leland Dixon turned off the car radio as his game ended. “I’m hungry,” he said to the air. He tapped his hands on the steering wheel and casually noted a small billboard flying by on the left. “Mmm, that looks good,” he said, as he caught a glimpse of a giant double cheeseburger.
Marnie looked up in time to see the next billboard, again on the left side of the road, with the same picture of the cheeseburger, and this time both husband and wife simultaneously made out the words, “Hopewell Diner, Where the Eating’s Good! 4 miles.” She said hurriedly into the phone, “Gotta go, talk to you later.”
Within minutes, a third sign appeared, with a bigger picture of that sizzling double cheeseburger. Josh and Benjamin glanced at it. Josh tore out his ear buds and said with excitement, “Man, I want one of those!” craning his neck around to study the image as the car sped south. Benjamin closed the lid of the DVD player, kicked his mother’s seat, “Mom, I’m really hungry. Isn’t it supper time?”
Marnie stole a brief look at her mother again, faced forward in time to recognize the fourth sign with the steaming bun, melting cheese and sizzling beef. She read aloud, turning her head as the Matrix passed it, “Hopewell Diner, 2 miles. Come and Get It!”
“Dad, can we eat there, please please please?” Josh insisted.
As the fifth billboard drew closer on their left, all of the family with the exception of Eloise, peered excitedly and Leland slowed down as no one was behind them. They read with anticipation, while the picture of that juicy meat made them salivate, “Hopewell Diner, Next Left, 1/4 mile. Welcome!”
Leland continued forward at moderate speed, until they came to a large, brown wooden sign, hand-painted with bright yellow letters that read, “Hopewell Diner, Turn Here.” There was no picture. Leland turned left. After approximately five minutes traveling a winding, patched and uneven asphalt road, the Matrix approached a building on their right.
Leland felt a surge of happiness as he gazed at it. Built in the form of an old-style train car, the place was immaculate, it’s windows shining, hedges perfectly trimmed, with a blinking orange-red neon sign forming the words “Hopewell Diner” over the roof. “This is a classic diner,” he said to no one in particular. “Will you look at this!” The Matrix’s tires crunched small pieces of white gravel as they pulled into a parking spot. He gazed fondly at the car next to him. “I recognize that,” he said as he turned off the ignition. “It’s a 1958 Lincoln. My father had one of those, blue too!”
“Say what, Dad?” Benjamin responded as he jumped from the modern station-wagon, slipping his iPhone into a belt holder. “I hope the burgers are as good as they looked on that sign…”
“Benjamin, help your grandmother, ” Marnie ordered as she too climbed out and threw her door closed. “What are you talking about, Leland?” she said absently, reaching for Josh who was running this way and that stomping on the black-top parking lot surface. “Shut the car door once Grandma gets out,” she called.
They walked through the front entrance.
Leland removed his sunglasses, and sighed with pleasure. “Look at this place,” he said, smiling. He inspected the counter that ran along one entire side of the diner, and the shiny metal and orange-vinyl stools that fronted it. He looked at the booths opposite the counter, with their sea-green seats and white Formica tables. “Look, Venetian blinds, too! Haven’t seen those in ages,” he enthused, pointing at the windows next to every booth.”
Josh darted over to what Leland could see was a jukebox, and shouted, “Hey, it’s a pinball machine.”
“Get back over here,” Leland said firmly, but then laughed and added, “You need an education in history.”
Josh made a face at his father, turning around and giving the machine another once-over before joining his family as they ambled down the middle of the diner.
Leland located an empty booth, and he and his wife helped Eloise lower herself and slide over on their side first, then Marnie squeezed beside her mother, and Leland sat on the end. The two boys sat opposite. He listened to the music now, focusing on the tune that was piping from a speaker somewhere. “It’s ‘Great Balls of Fire,’” he exclaimed.
“What?” Marnie asked. She was slowly weaving side to side, grinning, while she sang Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time.” She shook her hair and moved her shoulders, “This is my favorite song of all,” she said in a husky voice.
“Huh?” Leland turned his head in all directions, tried to hear the song. “I hear Jerry Lee Lewis. Wait, now it sounds like Elivs….”
At that moment, a waitress came to Leland’s side, carrying a small tray of tall water glasses. She passed around the water, flipped the tray under one arm, and straightened. She was dressed in a hot-pink dress with a poodle skirt and a frilly apron. She wore saddle shoes and ankle socks. Her hair was black and curly, pulled back in a short pony tail tied with small pink scarf. ”What can I get you folks,” she inquired pertly, popping her gum while pulling a pad and pencil from an apron pocket.
Josh and Benjamin said almost at once, “Cheeseburgers,” and then both stumbled over each other’s words as they asked for two cheeseburgers each, French fries and Cokes. The waitress giggled and wrote something down quickly.
Leland nudged his wife to order first, and Marnie said, “I’ll have one cheeseburger with one patty, and coffee.” She turned to her mother, to ask if she wanted anything, and saw that Eloise was gazing at the counter across from them, beaming and humming to herself. “Mom,” Marnie said sharply. “What are you doing?”
Eloise now was singing in a barely perceptible broken voice, “Tangerine, when she dances by, senoritas stare and caballeros sigh….”
Leland looked at the waitress to apologize, but the she didn’t seem to notice or care. “How ’bout I bring the old lady an egg sandwich on white,” she offered. Marnie looked back, up at the girl’s name tag, and answered, “Thank you, Donna. That will be fine. She’s not feeling very well.”
The waitress turned her attention to Leland. “And you, sir?”
“Uh…” he glanced at the other patrons, the boys wearing creased trousers or blue jeans, greased-back hair and leather jackets, the girls in shirt-waist dresses, or sweaters and skirts, Capezios and loafers. Some middle-aged men were wearing baggy pants with suspenders, their cotton shirts wrinkled. There were several fedoras and straw hats hanging from the rack near the entrance. “I’ll have … a double cheeseburger and fries as well. And, a vanilla Coke,” he added. “A real one. Can you make a real one?”
“Of course, sir, we make our own vanilla syrup,” the waitress declared, and scooted away.
Leland returned his attention to Eloise, as did Marnie and the two boys. “She looks so happy,” Leland muttered. “Didn’t we just bury her husband in Fort Wayne?”
“Stop it, Lee,” Marnie barked at her husband. “I think something’s wrong.”
“What a wonderful place,” Eloise said, her voice quivering. “It’s all so perfect. Down to the last detail!”
Marnie looked at her husband, he looked at Josh and Benjamin, they looked at their mother, and they all stared once more at the elderly Mrs. Sherman. Josh abruptly winced and covered his ears dramatically, “Man, I hate Beyonce,” he whined.
Leland twisted his mouth and furrowed his brows, feeling uneasy now as well as confused. “Okay,” he began, “What is going on here….” But the waitress had returned balancing an ample round tray with their food and drinks. It smells so good, Leland thought. He took another deep breath, watching his sons hang over the table, their mouths open, their eyes wide with expectation, as their plates were placed in front of them.
In moments all five family members were contentedly chewing and swallowing, completely absorbed by the meal. Leland was sure he heard Perry Como crooning “Catch a Falling Star.”
As the burgers and buns and garnish, the fries and catsup and pickles, even the egg-salad, disappeared from the thick white dinnerware, as the ribbed glasses were raised and lowered, a sense of comfort and ease permeated the air. No one said a word, but each member of the family seemed to be in synch. Josh kicked at his mother’s shoes under the table. Marnie laughed, intead of her usual scolding.
Leland noticed this, and wondered if cheeseburgers would always work better on Josh than Ritalin. He blotted his mouth with a hefty paper napkin, wiped his fingers. He heard Bobby Darin now, “Splish splash I was taking a bath ….” Somehow he didn’t really care that Eloise was humming again. “What is that, Mother Sherman,” he said in an off-handed way, tapping his toes and rocking a little bit.
“Glenn Miller,” she answered, the tone of her voice sweet and filled with joy. “‘Moonlight Cocktail.’ Charley and I used to dance to this in the place where I worked, in Indiana. I was only seventeen when I met him. I was a waitress, during the war.” Her eyes looked like blue gemstones, the pupils mere dots, her face blotchy with color.
“Okaaay….” Leland said, and chuckled, catching Marnie’s concerned expression at the same time. Which made him feel a bit guilty, so he continued, “We know how hard this is for you, Eloise. You two were married for sixty-four years, and suddenly … well, and having to give up your home, too. We’re happy to have you live with us, don’t get me wrong….”
Benjamin had retrieved his iPhone, but couldn’t get a signal, so he replaced it in its belt pouch. He pushed his plate to the middle of the table and folded his arms. “That’s ‘Tool’ … I love ‘Tool.’”
“That’s not ‘Tool,’” Josh protested. “It’s the “Jonas Brothers.’”
Benjamin smirked and shook his head. “You’re such an idiot,” he said, socking his brother in the upper arm.
“Now boys,” Marnie cautioned. But she was scanning the diner, listening, absorbing something. Her expression changed, and she looked worried. “Lee,” she whispered. “You know what this place looks like? It looks like the restaurant that Roseanne worked in, from the tv show ‘Roseanne.’ The waitress uniforms aren’t really the same, but they’re so cute; I love the design and color. Simple A-line peach dresses with puffed sleeves and lace collars.”
Leland snorted. “That is not what this place looks like, and it’s not what their uniforms look like, either. ” And he waved at the man moving behind the counter, as he couldn’t see the girl who had served them.
The man immediately came from around the end, and approached their booth carrying another glass pot of coffee. “Can I refresh you?” he asked. He was dressed in a white shirt and apron, and wore a white chef-like hat. Exactly what Leland remembered the owner of a diner used to wear in his boyhood home town in West Virginia.
“No more coffee, thanks,” Marnie answered, covering her cup with a hand.
“We have some great pie,” the man said, still holding the coffee pot as if ready to pour.
Leland shook his head, told the man, “We’ll take the check, please,” but his memories were making him feel kind of queasy. “Are you the owner of this place?” he asked.
“Yeah, owner and designer and facilitator,” the man answered, lowering the coffee pot. “But let me tell you folks, we’re so happy you stopped by,” he continued. ”Burgers and drinks are on the house. We hope you enjoyed your visit, and we wish you all a safe and pleasant trip home.” He bowed slightly, then turned and made his way to the opposite end of the diner, the coffee sloshing slightly as he disappeared through a swinging double door.
Leland and Marnie looked at one another. Eloise was humming something else now, recognizable as “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree….” Josh and Benjamin seemed reluctant to tell each other what they were hearing. Leland was sure he heard “It’s All in the Game” sung by Tommy Edwards. Marnie was making a sound like “mmmmm” as she struggled to contain herself, but abruptly the word “Thriller,” escaped her lips. She looked pained as she made eye contact with her husband. “Maybe we should leave now, before they change their minds about charging us,” she whispered.
Leland sat frozen for a moment, then finally said, “Okay, let’s get out of here.” And they bundled out of the booth, Marnie and Leland almost dragging Eloise after them.
When they reached the Matrix, they hurriedly found their seats and closed and locked the doors. Leland started the engine, looked over his shoulder as he pulled out, noted a car just turning in. He stepped on the brake briefly, asked, “Is that a white 1958 Buick with red leather seats?”
“Dad, that’s a 2008 Mazda,” Josh said. “Hell no,” Benjamin interrupted. “It’s a 2008 Ford Focus.” Marnie whimpered, “It’s clearly a bright blue 1982 Eagle.”
Eloise said lovingly, “Why, you even went to the trouble to hang a calendar with the very month Charley and I first met, August of 1942. Where did you find such a thing?”
All right, Leland thought. That’s it. And he shifted to drive, stepped on the gas, and with tires squealing, headed back the way the had come, looking for the road home.
