Angels Fall

you need it, split shifts. I can flex time when you need me over forty. But I can't close for you. I'm sorry."
    Joanie raised her eyebrows, sipped down the last of her coftee. '"Afraid of the dark, little girl?"
    "Yes, I am. If closing's part of the job description, I'll have to find another job.
    "We'll work that out. We've got forms to fill out for the government. It can wait. Your car's fixed, sitting up at Mac's." Joanie smiled. "Word travels, and I've got my ear to the ground. You're looking for a place, there's a room over the diner I can rent you. Not much, but it's got a good view and it's clean."
    "Thanks, but I think I'm going to try the hotel for now. We'll both give it a couple of weeks, see how it goes."
    "Itchy feet."
    "Itchy something."
    "Your choice." With a shrug, Joanie got up, headed to the swinging door with her coffee cup. "You go on, get your car, get settled. Be back at four."
    A little dazed, Reece walked out. She was back in a kitchen, and it had been all right. She'd been okay. Now that she'd gotten through it.
    she felt a little light-headed, but that was normal, wasn't it? A normal reaction to snagging a job, straight off the mark, doing what she was trained to do again. Doing what she hadn't been able to do for nearly two years.
    She took her time walking back to her car, letting it all sink in.
    When she walked into the mercantile, Mac was ringing up a sale at a short counter opposite the door. The place was what she'd expected: a little bit of everything—coolers for produce and meat, shelves of dry goods, a section for hardware, for housewares, fishing gear, ammo.
    Need a gallon of milk and a box of bullets? This was the spot.
    When Mac finished the transaction, she approached the counter.
    "Car should run for you now," Mac told her.
    "So I hear, and thanks. How do I pay?''
    "Lynt left a bill here for you. You can run on by the garage if you're going to charge it. Paying cash, you can just leave it here. I'll be seeing him later."
    "Cash is good." She took the bill, noted with relief it was less than she'd expected. She could hear someone chatting in the rear of the store, and the beep of another cash register. "I got a job."
    He cocked his head as she pulled out her wallet. "That so? Quick work."
    "At the diner. I don't even know the name of it," she realized.
    "That'd be Angel Food. Locals just call it Joanie's."
    "Joanie's then. I hope you come in sometime. I'm a good cook."
    "I bet you are. Here's your change."
    "Thanks. Thanks for everything. I guess I'll go get myself a room, then go back to work."
    "It you're still looking at the hotel, you tell Brenda on the desk you want the monthly rate. You tell her you're working at Joanie's."
    "I will. I'll tell her." She wanted to take out an ad announcing it in the local paper. "Thanks, Mr. Drubber."
    The hotel was five stories of pale yellow stucco that boasted views of the lake. It harbored a minute sundry shop, a tiny coffee and muffin stand and an intimate linen tablecloth dining room.
    There was, she was told, high-speed Internet connection for a small daily fee, room service from seven AM. to eleven P.M. and a self-service laundry in the basement.
    Reece negotiated a weekly rate on a single—a week was long enough—on the third floor. Anything below the third was too accessible for her peace of mind, and anything above the third made her feel trapped.
    With her wallet now effectively empty, she carted her duffel and laptop up three flights rather than use the elevator.
    The view lived up to its billing, and she immediately opened the windows, then just stood looking at the sparkle of the water, the glide of boats, and the rise of the mountains that cupped this little section of valley.
    This was her place today, she thought. She'd find out it it was her place tomorrow. Turning back to the room, she noted the door that adjoined the neighboring guest room. She checked the locks, then pushed, shoved, dragged the single dresser in front of it.
    That was better.
    She wouldn't unpack, not exactly, but take the essentials and set them out. The travel candle, some toiletries, the cell phone charger. Since the bathroom was hardly bigger than the closet, she left the door open while she took a quick shower. While the water ran, she did the multiplication tables out loud to keep herself steady. She changed into fresh clothes, moving quickly.
    New job, she reminded herself and took the time and effort to dry her hair, to put on a little