Practical Demonkeeping

things.
    “Nonsmoking,” he said.
    Jenny led him to a table in the back. Before he sat down, he pulled out the chair across from him, as if he were going to put his feet up.
    “Will someone be joining you?” Jenny asked, handing him a menu. He looked up at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. He stared into her eyes without saying a word.
    Embarrassed, Jenny looked down. “Today’s special is Eggs- Sothoth —a fiendishly toothsome amalgamation of scrumptious ingredients so delicious that the mere description of the palatable gestalt could drive one mad,” she said.
    “You’re joking?”
    “No. The owner insists that we memorize the daily specials verbatim.”
    The dark man kept staring at her. “What does all that mean?” he asked.
    “Scrambled eggs with ham and cheese and a side of toast.”
    “Why didn’t you just say that?”
    “The owner is a little eccentric. He believes that his daily specials may be the only thing keeping the Old Ones at bay.”
    “The Old Ones?”
    Jenny sighed. The nice thing about regular customers is she didn’t have to keep explaining Howard’s weird menu to them. This guy was obviously from out of town. But why did he have to keep staring at her like that?
    “It’s his religion or something. He believes that the world was once populated by another race. He calls them the Old Ones. For some reason they were banished from Earth, but he believes that they are trying to return and take over.”
    “You’re joking?”
    “Stop saying that. I’m not joking.”
    “I’m sorry.” He looked at the menu. “Okay, give me an Eggs- Sothoth with a side order of The Spuds of Madness.”
    “Would you like coffee?”
    “That would be great.”
    Jenny wrote out the ticket and turned to put the order in at the kitchen window.
    “Excuse me,” the man said.
    Jenny turned in midstep . “Yes?”
    “You have incredible eyes.”
    “Thanks.” She felt herself blush as she headed off to get his coffee. She wasn’t ready for this. She needed some sort of break between being married and being divorced. Divorce leave? They had pregnancy leave, didn’t they?
    When she returned with his coffee, she looked at him for the first time as a single woman might. He was handsome, in a sharp, dark sort of way. He looked younger than she was, twenty-three, maybe twenty-four. She was studying his clothes and trying to get a feel for what he did for a living when she ran into the chair he had pushed out from the table and spilled most of the coffee into the saucer.
    “God, I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay,” he said. “Are you having a bad day?”
    “Getting worse by the minute. I’ll get you another cup.”
    “No,” he raised a hand in protest. “ Its fine.” He took the cup and saucer from her, separated them, and poured the coffee back into the cup. “See, good as new. I don’t want to add to your bad day.”
    He was staring again.
    “No, you’re fine. I mean, I’m fine. Thanks.” She felt like a geek. She cursed Robert for causing all this. If he hadn’t…No, it wasn’t Robert’s fault. She’d made the decision to end the marriage.
    “I’m Travis.” The man extended his hand. She took it, tentatively.
    “Jennifer—” She was about to tell him that she was married and that he was nice and all. “I’m not married,” she said. She immediately wanted to disappear into the kitchen and never come back.
    “Me either,” Travis said. “I’m new in town.” He didn’t seem to notice how awkward she was. “Look, Jennifer, I’m looking for an address and I wonder if you could tell me how to find it? Do you know how to get to
Cheshire Street
?”
    Jenny was relieved to be talking about anything but herself. She rattled off a series of streets and turns, landmarks and signs, that would lead Travis to
Cheshire Street
. When she finished, he just looked at her quizzically.
    “I’ll draw you a map,” she said. She took a pen from her apron, bent over the table, and began drawing on a napkin.
    Their faces were inches apart. “You’re very beautiful,” he said.
    She looked at him. She didn’t know whether to smile or scream. Not yet , she thought. I’m not ready .
    He didn’t wait for her to respond. “You remind me of someone I used to know.”
    “Thank you…” She tried to remember his name. “…Travis.”
    “Have dinner with me tonight?”
    She searched for an excuse. None came. She couldn’t use the one she had used for a decade—it wasn’t