Bright Side

by Rose Fresquez

  “I have never had job interview before,” Mateo confessed. Then he told Andrew about his family back home. “I send money when I get job. I buy house, too.”

  Andrew didn’t have the heart to tell Mateo that his kind of job would not generate enough income for him to rent or buy a house, unless he meant to buy a house in Mexico.

  He ushered him back to the dresser. “We better get this moved.”

  They wrestled the dresser through the door, rested, then carried it across the hall to Carmen’s room.

  After moving the dresser, Andrew fixed the shower knob and the broken towel rods in the bathroom, then did a few other tasks Carmen had lined up for him.

  When he was done, he found Carmen sitting on a counter-high stool at the flour-spattered counter, moving the rolling pin across the wooden cutting board. She was no doubt making tortillas.

  “I’m all done!” Andrew announced, carrying a toolbox in one hand, and wiping his other wet hand on his jeans.

  “You worked hard today,” Carmen said. “Next time, you can fix the garage.”

  “What’s wrong with the garage?”

  “The door is stuck....been stuck for a year.”

  That explained why Bianca parked her van in the driveway. “I’ll troubleshoot and fix it next time.”

  “Muchas gracias...”

  With Mateo having used the same words when he shared news of the job with him, Andrew just learned his second phrase in Spanish.

  “You’re welcome!”

  Carmen motioned toward the refrigerator. “Can you get the brown bag out of there?”

  Andrew swung open the refrigerator and a couple of mayonnaise jars clattered to the floor. He pulled out the King Soopers bag, careful not to topple the orange juice bottle next to it. The bag felt heavy, and it seemed it had containers in it. Crouching, he picked up the mayonnaise and put it in place where he’d just removed the bag from.

  “Since you can’t stay for lunch, you can take some Huevos Rancheros and Green Chili for later.”

  She then handed him a clear plastic bag filled with tortillas. “Bianca didn’t make this, but I think you will like it.”

  He needed to get home to Rocky, mow the widow’s lawn next door, and help his parents with spring cleaning that afternoon before his dinner engagement.

  “Thank you!” he said, and Mateo walked him out the door.

  THE RECESSED LIGHTING didn’t offer much light, so Andrew wore a headlamp to help him see the small holes in the outlet cover better. He powered the electric screwdriver, and the noise split the silence in his parent’s basement while he put in the tiny screw to hold the plastic cover in place.

  After helping the widow, Andrew had come home in time to help his parents. He was safe-proofing the house in preparation for their first granddaughter’s visit tomorrow. Ezra and Leila were dropping off Adalee for his parents to babysit so they could go on a date.

  He moved to the last outlet and did the same, just as he’d done throughout the basement. Double checking with the voltage meter to make sure there were no loose wires, he was certain there weren’t, but Mom insisted he and Dad check for anything that could be a hazard to Adalee.

  They’d done a radon test last week.

  The stairs creaked at the sound of heavy footsteps trekking down, just as he was putting the drill back in the case.

  “How’s it going down here?”

  Andrew turned to his dad, brushing his hands together. “There was nothing serious to proof. Adalee hasn’t even started crawling yet.”

  “First grandchild. We want to make sure that she’s living in a safe house.” Dad folded the ladder that he’d used earlier.

  It didn’t surprise Andrew that his parents were over the moon about their grandbaby, because that’s how his grandparents had always swooned over Andrew and his siblings, whenever they were around.

  “Anything else you want me to double-check?” Andrew picked up the box with the drill in it.

  His dad looked at his watch. “Don’t you have to meet your colleagues at the restaurant here soon?”

  Andrew was meeting with his workmates at the Side Rock Cafe for dinner. “What time is it, anyway?”

  Dad opened the storage closet and put the ladder in. “Almost four.”

  “I still have another hour and a half.”

  His dad stepped aside so Andrew could put the drill on the shelving unit against the wall.

  “Have you thought some more about taking over the company?” his dad asked.

  Oh, that! Andrew closed the closet door and sauntered to the brown leather sofa. He ran a hand over his face. “I’ve been so busy looking at homes and getting my life settled in the area.”

  Dad opened the small stainless refrigerator and pulled out two water bottles, tossing him one.

  “No pressure. Just so you know, it's there whenever you want...”

  Most firefighters had a side business, something to fall back on when they could no longer carry over seventy-five pounds of equipment on their backs. Jake trained athletes at a parkour gym during his time off, and Ezra did accounting as a side job during tax season. He also used to teach rock climbing, but he’d stopped, once he realized that making extra money was robbing his time away from his wife.

  “Have you talked to Ezra and Renee about it?”

  Dad sank down on the sofa, crossed one ankle over the other and laughed. “You think that Renee is giving up her thriving firm to take over the family company?” he said. “It was Ezra's idea because you're passionate about this kind of work. He told me you would like it.”

  Andrew rubbed his neck as he stared at one of the two blue bedroom doors. “Not sure I’m retiring from firefighting any time soon.”

  “There’s no time limit or expectation.” Dad reached for his bottle on the coffee table. “Your mom and I are not too pressed for time, since we have a decent manager.”

  Dad spent most of his free time helping the members of his church, widows and those who needed an extra hand. As for Andrew’s mom, she was always making sure that the employees were well taken care of, at both the electrical business and the retreat centers.

  After catching up on the Rockies’ baseball schedule and what games might be good for them to go watch at the stadium, Andrew stood up and crunched the empty water bottle in his hand, then took his dad’s bottle and did the same.

  “I need to get ready.” He still had to pick up Levi on his way to the restaurant.

  Dad stood, too. “You don’t have to take Rocky with you. Your mom and I will make sure he gets back in the house when it gets dark.”

  “You mean to say Mom?”

  Dad laughed, and shrugged. “We work as a team. Rocky is another grandson around here.”

  Andrew laughed as they climbed the stairs.

  In less than twenty minutes, he was cleaned up and dressed in a navy sweatshirt and jeans.

  Anticipation and excitement surged through him; not at the prospect of seeing his colleagues, or the dinner, but because he was looking forward to running into Bianca.

  He’d already memorized her work schedule. She worked at the clinic during the day, and at the cafe in the afternoons, except for Tuesdays and Sundays.

  He hoped that she didn’t cancel her shift for any reason. Would she be their server tonight? He hoped so, and perhaps if he was lucky enough, he would have to linger until she was off work, so he could have an excuse to talk to her.

  He shook off the thought and tried to ignore where his mind was wandering as he rubbed Rocky’s ears, saying goodbye to him.

  CHAPTER 13

  With the cafe’s rush hour finally dying down, Bianca took a minute to finish her sandwich in the cafe’s kitchen while she listened to Raphael, the chef, reminisce about his hometown.

  She spoke over a mouthful. “Where are you from again?”

  He grinned as he sprayed the grill down, then brushed off the debris, sweeping it to the side. “New Orleans.”

  “There’s a group
of firefighters that just rolled in.” Bianca turned at Joy’s voice.

  “There’s that ripped guy.” The petite waitress fanned herself with her hand. “He wants to know if you’re available to take their orders.” Joy set the serving tray on the counter.

  Bianca instantly put her hands to her cheeks, experiencing a flood of heat and excitement. There was only one firefighter who would be asking for her. The same firefighter who continued to occupy her mind on a regular basis.

  Andrew!

  “What did you say?” Her voice came out weakly.

  “You’re indeed available.”

  Bianca’s hand flew to her chest, her heart spiraling in anticipation. She tightened the black apron around her waist and double checked the front pockets to make sure her pen and notepad were in place before she stepped out of the kitchen and into the dining area.

  A few people occupied the widely spaced tables. Laughter rippled from the corner table, where Andrew and his friends sat. Two tables had already been pulled together to accommodate their group. Apart from two women with them, the table was full of men.

  She knew it was their day off, because none of them wore a uniform, but she’d already known that Andrew was off. Mama had said he was stopping by the house to fix some things this Friday.

  The chatter died down when she cleared her throat to catch their attention. She waved and nodded in greeting. “Hi, everybody.” She glanced around at everybody but Andrew. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Can we just go ahead and order our food, too?” a dark haired man asked.

  It would make her job easier if she took both their food and drink orders at once. She thrust her hands in her apron pocket to retrieve the notepad and the pen. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  “Dr. Pepper, and I will have the Swiss burger with mushrooms,” the man said, and Bianca jotted down his order.

  She went around the circle, leaving Andrew to place his order last.

  “Why don’t they make breakfast burritos here?” A half grin lit his face, keeping a steady gaze on her. His eyes were soft, as if she should know the answer. She somehow did—he’d texted her saying how much he enjoyed the burritos.

  “I’m sorry. We make almost everything but Mexican food.” She gripped her notepad tight to keep her hands from shaking.

  “What do you recommend?”Andrew said. “The sandwich you recommended last time was delicious.” He leaned back in his chair.

  Bianca tapped the pen on her chin, because her favorite thing currently was the man, himself. “The sweet potato and sausage skillet is one of my favorites.” She’d tasted it recently because of her effort to choose healthier options.

  “I will have that, then.” He closed his menu and set it on the table. “And water, please.”

  Bianca jotted the sweet potato skillet down, and by the time she was done writing, she was pretty sure that the paper was wet from her sweaty hand. Her feet felt wobbly when she walked back toward the kitchen, all the while sensing Andrew’s eyes on her.

  Once inside the swinging double doors, she threw her head back and leaned against the wall.

  She took a deep inhale, finally breathing. The smell of bacon, fried onions and grilled hamburgers dominated the kitchen.

  “Everything okay?” the chef asked, bringing Bianca back to the present.

  She fanned herself. “Yeah, it’s just too hot in here.”

  He scraped the grill. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost out there.”

  “Not at all,” she said, unless her fantasies of Andrew could be considered ghostly—then, yeah.

  She walked toward their chef and clipped the order ticket to the order wheel on the counter next to him.

  “I see eggs on here. How do they want their eggs?”

  She creased her nose, not ready to go back and ask what kind of eggs Andrew wanted with his skillet. Did he eat his eggs hard or runny?

  Bianca liked her eggs scrambled, and Andrew had requested that she recommend something for him. “Scrambled.”

  “Hey, Bianca!”

  She jerked at the sound of her boss Pascal's voice when he stuck his head through the door. “Service needed at Table Four.”

  She remembered the drinks she needed to take to Andrew’s group, then turned to Joy. “Do you mind taking Four please?”

  “The customer requested your service,” Pascal spoke in his thick French accent.

  That customer was going to have to wait until she served the beverages to the firefighters first.

  “Be right out,” Bianca said as she walked to the soda machine and started filling their glasses as she assembled them on a tray.

  She didn’t look at Table Four until after serving the firefighters their beverages, which was a good thing. She might have spilled the drinks if she’d seen the customer waiting to be served.

  Tom. Her ex, or whatever he was, after the two times they’d gone out.

  What was he doing here? That was a foolish question. It was a restaurant. But why did he ask for her? Did he have to choose a table right next to Andrew’s group?

  She gripped the tray for support as she greeted him.“Hi Tom. What can I get you?”

  She hoped her tone was business-like enough. Unlike Andrew, who got her tongue tied, Tom didn’t have the same effect on her. He looked handsome in his button up striped shirt. The dangling light shone over his bald spot.

  “I’m here to see you.” He pushed his menu to the side.

  That part surprised her, but she wasn’t surprised that he didn’t want to spend a dime in restaurants.

  “I’m working, and...”

  “We need to talk...I thought about us, and I don’t think you gave us a shot.”

  Us? She assumed he meant him and his kids, because they hadn’t gone far enough to become a joint unit. She turned to look both ways, and caught Andrew’s steady gaze on her.

  Was he listening to their conversation, or to his friends?

  She spun back to Tom. “We don’t have anything to talk about. I need to serve the customers waiting for their food.

  “I will take a Sprite,” he said. “I’ll wait for you to get off work, so that we can talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” It wasn’t like they’d had a special bond or anything. “I’ll be right back with your Sprite.”

  She hastily returned with Tom’s soda, and then served the firefighters their dinner. She managed to sneak a couple of glances in Andrew’s direction before she left for the kitchen.

  IT WAS ALMOST SEVEN thirty by the time she’d cleared the dishes from Andrew's table and they’d paid their bill. Being her last table for the day, she returned to the kitchen, stuffed her apron in her purse and washed her hands.

  After sliding on her zip up hoodie, she wished she didn’t have to clock out at the register—otherwise she would use the back door in the kitchen so she could vanish and leave without seeing Tom.

  After logging out at the front desk, she thrust her handbag onto her shoulder, said goodnight to Pascal, and walked across the tiles all the way through the front door.

  It was hard to tell how dark it was outside with the lamps that shone through the parking lot.

  “Bianca, wait!”

  She turned to see Tom jogging toward her across the parking lot.

  “I’m getting the impression you’re avoiding me,” he said, panting. “Can I just have a few minutes of your time?”

  She was frustrated, yet felt sorry for him. Maybe she’d put on too fierce a face, for him to assume that she didn’t like him.

  She sagged her shoulders and sighed. “I think you’re a great guy,” she said, intending to stay firm, yet friendly. “But we both know that we’re not fit for each other.”

  “We both have kids, and we’re both Christians.” Tom ran a hand over his bald spot. “That should be reason enough for us to be together.”

  “As friends, Tom, nothing more than that.”

  “We don’t have to have magical l
ove right away,” he said and started referencing the Bible characters who’d had arranged marriages, but ended up liking each other as time went on.

  She desperately wanted to walk to her car and not look back, but that would be rude. Just as she wondered how to cut Tom off and politely say she’d had enough, she heard muffled footsteps coming toward them.

  She didn’t dare turn around and look, because she had a sixth sense when it came to Andrew, if her heart beating fast was an indication. He was the one person who caused her heart rate to shoot up.

  She could now sense his nearness and smell his spicy scent, but Tom was too busy talking to hear or notice their surroundings.

  “That’s why we can’t just drop things,” he insisted.

  She’d stopped listening when Tom mentioned Isaac marrying Rebecca. She liked that story a whole lot, but Tom was taking things out of context.

  “Ahem.”

  They both wheeled around when Andrew cleared his throat.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Everything okay?” He glanced down at Bianca before giving Tom a full blown stare.

  “Uh..uh..” Tom shoved his hands in his pocket. “We were just...you know?” He shrugged.

  She wanted to come to Tom’s aid and tell Andrew that everything was okay, and that he should go on his way, but she honestly didn't want to go in circles with Tom, so she let Andrew take over the situation.

  “I’ll wait until you’re done talking to Bianca,” Andrew spoke to Tom. “I was planning on walking her to her car.”

  Did he really intend to walk her to the car, or was he just helping her get rid of Tom? She entertained the idea of walking with Andrew through the parking lot. Her car wasn’t that far, but the thought of just a simple stroll with him made her heart leap.

  “I was... we’re already done.” Tom nodded his head in farewell with a wave.

  “Ex-boyfriend, not ready to let go?” Andrew held out his hand and she took it as she fell in step with him.

  She chuckled nervously, enjoying his warm hand around hers as if they were a couple. Though his hand was rough from hard work, it felt safe and soothing. “We’ve never been anything, really. We met in GriefShare and went out a couple of times, but things didn't work out.”