Gracie's Good Eats

by A.Z. Mohd

Gracie slipped her lipstick back to her purse as she pouted her lips in front of the mirror. The midday sun wavered through the open window. Her deep brown eyes glinted from the warm sun that touched her face. The dark purple dress littered with white polka dots she chose to wear that day looked exceptionally stunning. The white lace ribbon strapped around her waist made her petite figure more curvy than usual. Her peroxide white hair curled down to her shoulder and onto her breast. Satisfied, she stood up and walked out of the room and into the dinner.

Her lips curved to a smile as her gaze crossed the room. The tables were almost full and there were more coming in, waiting for their turn on the walk in area. They’ve had people come in since morning, most of them are people she invited herself. Some family, but mostly friends.

Everyone seemed satisfied with the new look of the place. It looked just like how she imagined it. The red-tiled floors with old maple wood tables and chairs gave a kind of rustic feel. I Got Rhythm by Red Nichols playing on the old jukebox gave the place a slight up-beat mood perfect for the breakfast rush hour.

It was the Diner’s opening. Not that it was new. She just decided it needed a new look, and a new name—Gracie’s Good Eats. It sounded nothing special, but she didn’t care. All she cared about is that her name—and her name only—was the only one plastered on the front sign. She wanted everyone to know she owned the place.

“Perfect.” Gracie muttered under her breath.

Well, not quite perfect yet. She still has some stuff to deal with. But once that’s dealt with, everything will be perfect. Gracie was about to walk toward the kitchen when an old woman approached her.

“Oh, hello my dear.” The old woman with a sultry voice wearing a white dress with a white hat spoke.

“Oh, hello Mrs. Wagner.” Gracie smiled and leaned in to give a hug to her next-door neighbor. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Of course I would my dear. For you, I would give the world.” Mrs. Wagner shifted her gaze around. “I love what you did with the place. It looks fantastic compared to the old diner.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me Mrs. Wagner.”

“Congratulations on the opening. Though I’m not too sure why you had to change the name. I really thought—Rob n’ Grace—was already perfect. It had that homey family feel to it.”

Grace hid her left arm behind her back. She didn’t wear her wedding ring today. She hadn’t for the last couple of weeks now. “We decided it sounded better this way.”

Mrs. Wagner nodded her head as she gave a warm old smile. The creases on her forehead and her eyes showed. “Well then, my dear. Give my regards to your husband, I hope he stops by.”

“I hope not” Gracie muttered softly under her breath.

“What was that my dear?” Mrs. Wagner leaned in. Her hearing isn’t good anymore which was normal for her old age.

“Oh, I said enjoy the food!” Gracie returned a smile.

“Ah yes. I’m sure I will.” Mrs. Wagner nodded as she dawdled toward her table one step at a time with the help of her cane.

Gracie turned around and walked toward the kitchen. The staff was in full alert. The smell of cooked garlic and onions filled the room along with some fried chicken and fish.

Everyone was moving around from one corner to another. It was the busy hour of the day.

“Um, boss?” An employee stuck his head into the kitchen from the back door. “Someone wants to see you.”

Gracie checked her watched. Her brows furrowed as she saw the time—11:15. But it’s not time yet. She stared back at the employee. “Who is it?”

“It’s Mr. Robert ma’am.”

Gracie’s lips parted as she stared at the open back door. Her eyes rolled as the man the employee mentioned barged in.

“Speak of the devil.” Gracie uttered as she stared at her husband wearing a black suit with black shoes. It was the most basic outfit a man could wear. He didn’t even bother to wear a tie. His long hair pushed back. His thick moustache and sharply shaved beard accentuated his muscular chin. His thick brows furrowed as he stared at her. She wasn’t expecting him to come. In fact, they agreed he wasn’t supposed to. “Why are you here Rob?”

“Wow!” Robert grinned as he stared at his wife. “You look stunning. We’re not even divorced yet and you’re already trying to get a date. Bravo!” Robert clapped his hands. All eyes in the kitchen were on them as they pretended to stay busy.

“Go to hell. Like you’re the one to talk about such things.” Gracie crossed her arms. “Can you please leave?” Her eyebrows rose. “I have business to attend to. Something you know

nothing about.”

“Really? Sounds fancy.” Robert closed the back door behind him as he rubbed his hands. “So who did you invite other than me eh?” Robert barged through the kitchen toward the other door that lead to the diner to take a peek.

Gracie held out her hand to block him. “Get out. Now!”

“I own half this place. I can do what I want, woman.” Robert shoved Gracie’s hand away.

Gracie immediately caught up to him and blocked his path. “This diner is mine.” “We’ll see about that.” Robert smirked as he gazed at her deep brown eyes and gave a

smooch in the air toward her.

“Don’t make a scene Rob!” Gracie glared at her husband.

“I won’t if you won't” Robert pushed Gracie off. He walked into the dinner as people saw him. He waved his hand at their friends who waved back.

Gracie followed him closely. “It’s been our family for generations.” She spoke low enough to not make a scene. “This diner is mine, do you hear me?”

“Not yet, it ain’t. I’m not handing it to you that easily.” Robert grinned as he stared at his wife and placed his arm around her shoulder. The crowd cheered them on.

“You’re the devil. I hope you die.”

“And you’re a whinny bitch.” They both faked a smile at the cheering crowd. “I mean you’re right.” Robert shifted his gaze toward his wife. “You own the diner. But I still own the land.” Robert grinned.

“Fuck you Robert. Fuck you!” Gracie shoved her husband’s hand off her shoulder and stormed out the front door. Turning around, her gaze fell on the sign—Gracie’s Good Eats. She wanted to scream but didn’t want to make a scene. She kept walking a little further and leaned behind the wall of a building next to the diner.

She stared across 1st avenue road overlooking Pioneer Square. The place was calm, and the weather was perfect. But not in her head though. Inside her head, gunshots were being fired, ideally right toward her husband. She pictured him sprawled across the floor motionless in the middle of the diner with a knife on his neck. That was cruel, she thought as she wave those thoughts away. Besides, that would have been a miracle if there every was one. She just wanted him to disappear. Be gone with him, for good this time. Marrying him was the worst decision she’s ever made. Gracie contemplated whether she was drunk when she said yes to him.

She snuck her hand inside her pocket and fished out a box of Camels cigarette. Smoking was the last thing she wanted to do, especially when she has a date to attend to. But she needed to keep her nerves down, otherwise she might shoot his God forsaken husband.

Ten minutes passed. The cigarette burned to the last tip as she took in one last puff before throwing it on the ground and crushing it under her dark red heels. She’d calmed down, blending in with the quietness of the place. Her posture straight, shoulders held back as she leaned off the wall. Gracie closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath to silence her thoughts.

The sound of screaming women broke that silence. Her eyes shot open as she saw people ran out of her own diner. Others yelled—Call the cops!

Her brows pressed together as she walked her way toward it. A few costumers crowded the walk-in area while some tried to get out. Others who stayed covered their mouths as they stared at something on the floor.

“Oh, my dear! Don’t look.” Mrs. Wagner waived her to get out.

She didn’t listen. Gracie was more curious what was causing one hell of a commotion on her own diner at her own damn grand opening. She suspected her husband. If there’s anyone who will ruin her life, it would be him.

She squeezed her way through. All eyes were on her. The crowd of people started to part as she approached. A man laid flat on the floor. Is he drunk? Gracie stared at the man's shoe and slowly traced her gaze up at the body.

She gasped as her gaze landed on the man's neck. She wanted to swallow but her throat ran dry. The mans throat was cut open. A red knife stuck to his throat. The pool of blood was almost invisible under the red velvet rug.

Gracie’s eyes widen as she watched further. Her mouth hang open in disbelief. Her body froze as the man’s blank eyes stared back at her. She tried to speak.

“Shit.” Was the only word that came out her mouth as she stared at her husband dead on the floor.