More on Cilla and Oren’s story, “Yankee Doodle Sweetheart.” I’m taking up where I left off last week. Cilla fell on her way into Sach’s Dannville Diner. She was wearing high heels, and she’s a klutz. She’s rescued by Oren and a guy named Greg. I just wrote some of this today, so it’s very raw. Any feedback would be appreciated. I edited to adhere to the line limit.
Cilla’s staring at me and the other dude who helped me lift her up. I ask the same question Mr. Thinks-He’s-Oh-So-Cool had asked a moment ago. “Are you okay?”
She looks at me, and is a little more focused now. “I’m fine.” She asks a waitress for a cherry danish and a cup of coffee with sugar and heavy on the cream. “I have to go to work.”
Work? I haven’t seen or heard from her in ten years, and she wants to talk about her job? She explains that she had a job as a music therapist in Boston, but the school where she worked cut the budget, so she ended up in Dannville.
“Music therapy? That sounds like a job you’d love, although I don’t know if you still like music or not since you haven’t called me or written to me in ten years.” I sigh inwardly as the snarky comment escapes my lips.