Chapter 4

I RUN FROM TABLE TO TABLE, cleaning them off as waitresses rush to set new places, and the dinner rush surges in. The atmosphere is calm, the usual instrumental music playing in the background. The regulars come in for their regular dinners, but the staff is rushing. These people with their expensive shoes and designer watches have no idea what it looks like in the back. Everyone is scrambling around, struggling to get things out on time and looking good. It's organized chaos as I hurry back with the plates and drop them in the sink. I pull on some gloves and start washing the plates—of course, the new dishwasher didn’t show up again. The water is scolding as I rinse the plates off and drop them in. My hands are red. I head back out, ready for round two. I ignore the sweat on my forehead, smiling and clearing plates. I greet people and ask them how their meal is, and in the back corner, I see a little girl with a cupcake in front of her. There’s a single candle in the center as her parents sing to her in some language I don’t know. I imagine it’s their equivalent of the Happy Birthday song. I pause for just a second to watch.

Every birthday, my mom sang it to me with a premade cake from the grocery store and those trick candles. She loved birthdays and holidays and any day that was an excuse to pay more attention to me. There’s a little pang in my chest at the absence of my mom. Three years, and it still hurts to think about—the car accident, the healing. Man, Lana saved my life.

Even months after the accident, I was low. I couldn’t make peace with losing my mom. Not until Lana came into my life and knocked me right off my feet. We just ran into each other, and we were listening to the same song. I said something stupid and cheesy. To this day, I know she only said yes out of pity for me, but hey, love is love, right?

“Theo,” Heather barks. “Get a little pep in your step, would ya?” She flies by with a giant tray of food. I gather the dishes and stop by the birthday girl’s table to clear their plates too.

“Birthday?” I ask, not faking my interest for this one.

“I’m seven now!” the girl squeaks, holding her hands up.

“Woah!” I exclaim. “Congratulations.”

Her parents laugh, and she smiles at them. They’re a picture-perfect family.

“Enjoy the rest of your birthday.” I give her a thumbs up, and her giggles follow me into the back as I deposit the next round of dishes for our dishwasher—whenever they decide to show up. I’ve got too many people right now to do them.

It shouldn’t only be midnight.

I clear the final tables off and take the dishes back to the kitchen. The waitresses are tired as they count their tips and do their books. My legs are killing me as I start on the never-ending dishes piled in the sink. The dishwasher never showed. The usual slackers already bailed. The usual workers, me, stayed to get as much done as possible.

I scrub at the dishes and yawn. My eyes are getting heavy. I let them rest for just a second.

“Theo.” Heather pats me on the back. “Wanna go out with me and the others for a few drinks?”

I shake my head and offer her a smile “Nah, my girl’s waiting for me at home.” I love calling Lana ‘my girl’.

“Come on,” Heather presses. “I know a great new place right down the way.” She pulls herself up onto the counter beside the sink and swings her legs.

I love it when Lana does that. She just looks so carefree.

“Thanks.” I offer a tired smile. She brightens for just a second. “But I’m gonna head home as soon as I finish up here.”

Her eyes droop a little. Heather had a thing for me long before I met Lana. If I hadn’t met Lana, I might have ended up with Heather.

“Well...” Heather tries to recover herself. “When can we hang out? Just because you’re dating that girl—”

“Lana,” I put in for her.

“Lana.” Heather smiles on Lana’s name. She can be pushy and possessive sometimes, but no one can resist Lana. “It doesn’t mean you can’t hang out with your old friends too.” She gives me a toothy smile, but I shake my head, stifling another yawn.

“Really, thanks, but Lana’s waiting for me, and she works in the morning.” I tuck the dish into the rack and start on the pots. “I don’t want her to worry.”

“Right.” Heather sighs. “Yeah, I get it.” She pinches my cheek. “Just the considerate type, aren’t ya?” She laughs and hops off the counter, smoothing her skirt as she does. She smiles at me, and there’s no hard feelings. Heather gets it—a night out drinking doesn’t hold a candle to spending a night in with Lana.

“Gotta get home to the bae.” She clears her throat and takes a few steps back “Maybe next time.” She pauses at the doors.

“Maybe,” I call back rubbing at my eyes with the back of my hand.

“Well… bye,” Heather calls.

“Bye.” I yawn again as the door swings closed. I go back to washing the pots and resting my eyes every few minutes so that I don’t just pass out on Lana when I get home. I want to spend a little bit of time with her before we both have to go to sleep and she has to go to work.

***

I stand on the train even though the seats are empty. I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep and miss my stop again. My feet ache and my eyelids are heavier than eyelids should be, but at least I’m on my way to Lana now.

Lana is exactly as I knew she’d be, curled up on the couch with a cup of tea in hand and some show I keep seeing, but still don’t actually know the name of, playing on the T.V.

I tiptoe behind her, and I grab her. She screams, and her tea flies out of her hand onto the carpet.

“Theo!” she scolds me, pressing her hand to her chest. “Not funny.” She breathes a sigh, exhaling her scare away. I laugh internally to myself; she’s always ‘breathing’ something away.

“Miss me?” I grab her cup from the ground and slide onto the couch next to her. How she looks wide awake at three in the morning, I’ll never understand. The only sign she’s ready for bed is her make-up free face. The shorts and tank top she’s in could just as easily be yesterday’s clothes as tonight’s pajamas.

“I did until you did that.” She whacks my chest and frowns at me, but then a second passes. Her features smooth out, and she wraps her arms around me. She’s kissing me, and this time she’s not breathing anything away. She’s taking my breath away. I hold her in my arms, and she slides onto my lap, resting her head on my shoulder. I can see her getting tired now, as if her mind refused to rest until she saw me again.

I scoop her into my arms, struggling a little as I stand. It’s not that Lana is heavy, although she’s not a twig either. It’s just that I’m not all that strong. Still, she helps me with her arms latched around my neck as I carry her across the living room and through the tiny hallway. We fall into bed.

“I love you,” she says with a sigh, curling into my side. She could complain about my work clothes—they are gross, and she is sleeping on me—but she doesn’t. I love that she doesn’t complain about things.

I slip my shirt off anyway, because it is gross. I kick my shoes off, and I curl around her. She snores a few harsh snores, and she turns onto her back, sprawling over top of me. Her hair falls into my mouth. I sputter it out and push it away from me, but I leave her there. I don’t mind it. I love that she’s not perfect. I love that she’s perfectly herself. Perfectly Lana.

I’m tired, but I watch her anyway. I can sleep while she’s at work tomorrow. I can make her a nice lunch before she comes home. We should still have some eggs and a few vegetables in the fridge. I should really go to the grocery store tomorrow. Lana always goes. I shouldn’t expect her to. She gets busy too.

I’ll go to the store, and I’ll cook her lunch tomorrow. If I can find some flowers on sale, then I’ll get her those too. I squeeze her against my chest. She loves gestures like that. She doesn’t need some grand fairytale. She deserves it, but she doesn’t look for it. She’s just… content with everything she has, even if everything she has is a closet full of thrifted clothing and a fridge with a few eggs and possibly some vegetables.

All I need is her, to be happy.

***

The sun assaults my eyes far too soon as Lana’s music plays from the kitchen and her tea kettle whistles. I groan and roll over, hiding my face in the blankets. Five more minutes.

“I’ll see you later.” Lana’s voice is like music.

“Mmhmm.” I nod.

Okay, get up now.

Lana’s lips are soft when she presses a kiss to my cheek.

“I’ll bring home lunch,” she whispers, padding out of the room.

“Mmhhmm.”

Five more minutes

I pull the blanket over my eyes.

***

“Theo…” Lana sings, the smell of sausage and egg coaxing me out of my sleep.

“Mmhhmm.” I yawn pulling myself out of my cocoon. “Awe yeah…” The paper crinkles as she presses the biscuit into my hands.

“Hey, sleepy head.” She giggles and kisses me. I love her kisses.

“Morning.” I yawn around the bite of food in my mouth. She wrinkles her nose at the sight of my half-chewed food. “Sorry.” I cover my mouth, slowly coming fully into the day.

“It’s okay.” She smiles at me, tilting her head so her hair falls over her shoulder. “But it’s more like ‘good afternoon’ now.” She sits in her house shorts on the edge of the bed. I give her leg a squeeze. They’re a little prickly, but I don’t care, it just means she’s comfortable around me. Besides, she never complains about me not shaving regularly even though I know she hates beards.

“What time is it?” I reach for my phone. She catches my hand and climbs into my lap.

“Cuddle time.” She curls into my chest and grabs an apple out of the bag on her arm.

“It’s always cuddle time with you.” I snort. She nods and presses her head against my chest, her eyes closed as she munches on her apple.

“Cuddle time is a happy time.” She’s smiling.

“Yeah.” I pull her hair off her shoulder and smooth it back. It doesn’t quite stay with the big waves in it, but at least she won’t eat it by accident.

“What are you thinking about?” I take a giant bite out of my sandwich.

“Bora Bora,” she breathes dreamily. “How warm it is there, the villas on the water.” She bites her apple “Maldives...” She wraps her arm around me. “Basically, just thinking of places I want to go with you the second we get the chance.” There’s no rush to her words. She’s just dreaming of the adventures she’ll have in time. I feel a pang of guilt, because I can’t give her these things yet, and another pang, because I was supposed to feed her today, but she woke me with the scent of sausage and bacon. Lana is the best girlfriend ever, and I can’t even go to the grocery store for her.

“I’m thinking… spaghetti for dinner tonight.” She turns the apple over in her hands.

“I can make spaghetti,” I volunteer. She lets her head fall back so that I can look at her. She reaches up and pushes her hand into my hair, her semicolon tattoo winking at me on the inside of her wrist.

“Are you offering to cook dinner for me?” Her smile fills her face and touches her eyes, but I can see a little bit of a challenge there. I take her hand, my own semicolon tattoo hidden on the inside of my index finger.

“Yeah,” I say. “I guess I am.” I hunch over and kiss her, the apple juice is sweet on her lips.

“I love you.” Her voice is soft, sincere. Her breath tickles me.

“I love you.” I love her breath on my skin.

------------------------------------

Dear you,

I can’t bear it any longer, I can’t deal with him, I can’t look at him, I can’t watch him destroy himself. I won’t watch it, either of them. I just can’t, it’ll break me and I’m already not doing so good to start with.

I’m so sorry, I have to. I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m leaving and I’m not speaking to him again, until he gets himself together.

Lana