"Honestly, it seems like he’s paying us to babysit him more than actually run the diner." Christine drags out another trash can and wipes down the flour into it. She glances up at the clock, forlorn. "When does this shift end, for Christ’s sake. Mum is making baked potatoes for dinner." She looks at Annie. "Want to come over?"
She pauses from scrubbing the bottom of a pan, her face deep in bubbles. “Mmmmm,” The plans for the rest of the night go from picking up that guy, fucking for the rest of the night, and sneaking some food out of their place before he wakes up. Which sounds pretty good. “No, thanks. I was planning to go home with that guy out there.” Annie smirks as she motions her head towards the doors out the kitchen. “Besides, i’m not really hungry.” A loud grumble thus escaped from the pit of Annie’s stomach, and she clutches her belly with a frown.
Christine holds back a deep sigh. “It’s just that you haven’t come for dinner in a long while,” she say, shrugging. “And Mum was asking about you. I guess I’ll just tell her that you couldn’t make it.” She raises an eyebrow at Annie, pressing her lips together in half-joking disapproval.
Damn. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to eat tonight. Or until her next paycheck. “Hmmm. Okay. Okay. I’ll come over. I’m not gonna worry your mom enough to make her come down to this shithole to see me. But only for dinner.” Annie turns back around, back into the tower of bubbles and starts scrubbing again. Annie’s lips turn upward to form a bright smile, her stomach leaps for joy under the excitement of seeing sweet Clare again and quietly counting her blessings that Chris asked.