Chapter Two
 
Mrs. Girmsley, a little plump in her green suit, passed Timothy and went to the middle of the diner and sat at a table directly in the middle of the room.  She sat facing neither the door nor the kitchen.  She had a view of all that went on in here.  She primped Priscella and sat her on the seat next to her, fluffing a pillow that was hidden on the seat.  Timothy noticed for the first time, that Edith, Mrs. Grimsley, was wearing tight fitting gloves, which she now struggled to remove one finger at a time.  With a silent huff, she set the gloves carefully down on the table next to her green purse.
     "Amy, I will now have my coffee with cream, 2 eggs poached and a slice of the freshest bread with some of my apple butter spread over it.".  She didn't look Amy's way, so didn't notice the eye rolling motion Amy made to Timothy.
     "Oh Mrs. Grimsley, we were just discussing the name of the diner and how Mildred always called it the Cafe."  She had moved over and poured a fresh steaming cup of coffee.
     "Cafe it should have always been." She harrumphed.  Picking up a spoon, inspecting it she pointed in the general direction of the kitchen.  "Too many generations involved, that's what I say."
    Amy looked again at Timothy over Mrs. Grimsley's head and shrugged.
     "Well, I'll go tell George to poach your eggs."  She moved her way back  behind the doors with the two round windows.
   "May I ask you a question?"  Timothy swiveled again in his seat.
     "You may ask anything you like, it doesn't mean I will answer it to your liking."
     "Okay.  I just wondered what you meant by too many generations?"
     "Just what I said, too many involved in this place.  One comes, stays, then another comes, stays, and they never really leave.  Oh, except for Mildred, God rest her soul, she passed on a few years back, I cannot recall exactly how many years.  But the others?  No one ever wants to leave.  They just keep staying on."
     "You mean there is more then one owner?"
     "Young man, that is not what I said. "She pursed her lipsticked red lips." I said, they come, they just don't leave.  See Henry over there?  He's been here since... since.. well I don't remember since when, but longer even then I have been here."
     "You come every day?"
     "I am here. Have my breakfast, and then move on to the library to volunteer.  We don't use any new systems.  Just the old card catalog.  My job is to make sure every care is always in the correct spot.  You know, when those kids come in looking for books for classes, or something to read, they just don't have the what with all to put those cards back in their proper places.  So that is what I do."  She finished. "And you? What are you doing?"
   Timothy straightened his back a little.  He felt as though he were being questioned by a school teacher.  Maybe she was one before she volunteered at the library.
     " I am here to interview for old Sam;s job at the paper."  He smiled easily, using the name Amy had referred to Sam.
       Mrs. Grimsley did not seem amused. "That would be MR. Sam Johnson.  Newspaper reporter extraordinaire.  He has been doing that job for over 70 years. How long have you been reporting?"
     She looked directly into his very blue eyes.
     "Well, I graduated and did the  backpacking around Europe, then landed a job in a big city, and being from a small town, didn't like it.  I want to move to a small town.  You know, report on the football games, who gets married, who dies."
     "Now why would you want to do a boring job like that?"
     "Oh, I kind of have this idea that I can take any news and make it important.  Because it is, important I mean, to someone, or someones."  He offered that easy smile again.  She looked at him with an odd expression.
     "Are you one of the ones who will stay?" she asked simply.
     Taking no meaning from it, Timothy answered, "Yeah, maybe.  Yeah.  I might stay."

Breakfasts having been served, coffee cups refilled, including Timothy who had actually drank the mucky stuff he claimed to hate, Henry, from behind the paper, growled a bit, noisily put the paper on the table and stood.  A pair of well worn jeans hung loosely but snugged with a belt helped keep them up.
     " Ya want the story now young man?"  He shuffled his slippered feet over to the swivel seat next to Timothy.  "But you're gonna have to take a seat at the table.  That durn seat ain't so good for my back."
     Without speaking, Timothy grabbed his cup, leaving the saucer, and waited for Henry to take a seat and the followed suit.  Mrs. Grimsley, also having finished her meal, stood, came to the table and seated Priscilla first on the pillow she had dragged over and then seated herself as if she had been asked.