Let Me Fall

by Foster, Lily

  I’m thinking maybe my name registered with her, although I was certain I’d never met her. Her eyes were cold as she looked me over. “I’ll have vodka with grapefruit juice.”

  Usually this is when I’d say, “I’ll be right back with those,” but I didn’t have any intention of waiting on them. No way. I put in the bar order and then made a bee-line for the kitchen, where I was planning on asking Connie to cover them for me. She was in the middle of a full-on brawl with Marco, yelling that she did, in fact, alert him that the lady at table one had a shellfish allergy. I grabbed the baked clams my two-top was waiting for and approached Nicholas on my way out onto the floor. “Nick, can you take the four-top on eight for me?”

  “No can do. Just had a party of ten seated. Sorry.”

  I was desperate enough to ask Sal, our lowly runner, knowing full well that putting him on a table with two sets of boobs prominently displayed was a recipe for disaster. I didn’t care. Just as I approached, though, a woman slid her chair out unexpectedly, knocking into Sal, causing him to drop a plate of mussels marinara. I turned at the sound of the plate crashing onto the marble floor.

  I had no choice but to face Jeremy…and his date.

  Deep calming breath, Carolyn. In and out, in and out. Recite the specials, take their order, drop the check and you’re done. You’ll spend no more than five actual minutes in their presence.

  I was back to giving myself pep talks.

  “Here you are,” I said as I served their drinks. I rambled off the specials as quickly as I could. “Have you had a chance to look over the menu or should I give you a few more minutes?”

  Jeremy looked up and met my eyes briefly before looking back down at his menu, studying like he was cramming for the bar exam. “A few minutes, if that’s ok.”

  “Yick! This is so sour!” Jeremy’s babe made a puckered face. “There’s too much…something in this. It tastes nasty. Here,” she said, pouty faced, pushing the drink forward, “you taste it Jeremy.” She looked up to me, her tone short as she said, “I think you got the order wrong.”

  Jeremy eyed her evenly. “I’ve never had one of those. I wouldn’t know if the bartender made it right or not, Kenzie.”

  Kenzie…ugh. Hate that name. Actually, I like the name, I just have a strong dislike for this bossy, bitchy, but…very pretty girl…Ugh! Fuck me, I thought. Realizing my mind was scrambling, I took another deep breath and repeated my fight song: Get yourself together, Carolyn. You can do this.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Calm, cool as a cucumber Carolyn was back. “That is a Cosmopolitan, though, so maybe I should just bring you something else.” I felt like dumping it over her head but I kept my smile even and as sincere as humanly possible. Of course she took her sweet time deciding. When I glanced up I saw my other table looking at me expectantly. That other four-top had not even gotten bread yet. I snagged Sal. “Get table three’s appetizer order and bring them bread right away.”

  “I guess I’ll have a vodka cranberry,” she murmured, pouting.

  “Be right back.” Service with a smile, bitch.

  I took my other tables’ orders, dropped a check and then came back with Kenzie’s drink. “Hope you like this one better,” I said as I placed it in front of her. Jeremy still seemed to be staring at the same section of the menu. Guess this was no picnic for him either.

  She reached over, practically resting her D cups on the table, and stroked the top of Jeremy’s hand, asking, “What looks good to you, Jeremy?” The gesture was familiar and intimate. I gathered that he knew what Kenzie looked like naked. But I also thought the gesture was somewhat forced—she wanted me to know Jeremy was hers. I’d brought out her territorial instincts.

  He looked to me instead, moving his hand away from hers as he raised his menu, pointing to an item. I’ll have this one: the pacific grouper over—”

  He stalled before attempting the next words: tagliatelli with porcini mushroom ragout.

  I nodded, jumping in, noting his order. “—I got it. You’ll like that. The fish just came in this afternoon and the chef does a really great porcini mushroom sauce for the pasta.”

  His eyes met mine briefly. It wouldn’t have been obvious to anyone else, but something passed between us: acknowledgement, a sense of gratitude, shared understanding…our shared past. Recognition that I knew he was struggling to read those words before anyone else noticed and that I’d covered for him.

  I shifted my gaze to Frank before I allowed myself to get emotional. “I’ll have that ravioli special, Carolyn.”

  Frank’s girl went with the chicken parm, no pasta, side of broccoli rabe. Great, moving right along. And then? We weren’t. Kenzi scanned her menu indolently, taking her sweet time. “Do you want me to give you another minute?” I asked.

  “No,” she said, dismissing me again. Cocking her head and fixing him with a look that said: I need help from my man, she asked, “Jeremy, would you get the shrimp scampi or the manicotti?”

  “Depends on what you’re in the mood for.”

  “I can’t decide.” Kenzie’s pouty lips were back in place, her voice taking on that little-girl quality that some people find cute. I myself found it nauseating.

  She studied the menu choices again. It was like watching a snail cross a hot, wide stretch of deserted highway.

  Jeremy stretched his collar away from his neck, his unease palpable. “The shrimp sounds good, Kenz,” he offered, prompting her. He didn’t sound annoyed or impatient. The gentle tone Jeremy took with her led me to believe he had feelings for this girl—cue the knife twisting into my gut.

  “All set?” I asked weakly.

  “Yep,” she said as she beamed her bright, white smile directly at Jeremy, “I’ll go with the shrimp.”

  I left them then and didn’t approach the table again, save for one last time to ask them if they needed anything else before I dropped their check. I made sure that Sal delivered their entrees, asked if their food was ok, and refreshed their drinks. I focused all the mental energy I could muster towards my other tables.

  But I was dying inside, just a little bit more every minute.

  I stole looks at their table—at Jeremy and Kenzie in particular. She seemed very happy and totally into him. I couldn’t read him, though. He didn’t seem content and enamored like Frank did with his girl. But maybe he was just holding back, messed up and made uncomfortable by my presence—with the past rearing its ugly head.

  Ambushing Jeremy at the coffee shop tomorrow morning? My quest for a reunion or, at the very least, closure? Um…not happening…mission aborted.

  What I needed right now was a good cry and a hot shower. In that order.

  The happy foursome didn’t vacate the premises until quarter-past ten. Connie picked up the credit card receipt when I asked her to. I just couldn’t go over there again—couldn’t bear to do the awkward goodbye scene.

  “Let me guess…an old boyfriend?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Because you’re usually super organized and you fucked up two tickets tonight. Don’t worry, Carolyn,” she pressed on when I dropped my head into my hands. “I covered for you with Marco. But I knew something was up. You looked rattled. And that big, hot piece of man meat with the sexy, shaggy brown hair kept sneaking looks at you. The girl with him couldn’t keep her dagger eyes off you either. And only a man who still holds a torch would leave a tip like this,” she said, handing over the receipt.

  The bill was for two hundred and thirty dollars. The tip was for one-twenty. Connie was smiling at me but that tip didn’t please me—it left me feeling like a loser. Jeremy wasn’t pining for me. More like he wanted to be kind, leave me some damn consolation prize to soften the blow.

  I handed Sal sixty dollars as he was walking out the door. “You already tipped me out, Carolyn.”

  “I know. This is extra. You helped me out with that table so I’m splitting the tip with you.”

  “You sure? You don’t have to do that.” />
  “I insist.”

  “Ok, thanks.” His face split into a wide grin. “Did you see the giant knockers on that brunette?”

  “It’s no wonder you don’t have a girlfriend,” Connie hissed as she smacked him on the side of his head.

  It was nearly midnight.

  Closing time.

  Time to go home and lick my wounds.

  I stood back, hidden in the darkness, debating whether or not I should approach. She was sitting in her mom’s old model station wagon, parked behind the restaurant underneath a street light. Her forehead rested against the steering wheel.

  I watched her.

  After a few minutes, she raised her head. She looked drawn out, tired. I saw her wipe at her eyes and then turn the key in the ignition.

  I watched Carolyn drive off.

  Tonight was a disaster of epic proportions.

  From the moment I picked up Kenzie, I was miserable. The effort she’d put into her hair and make-up, and the outfit—still borderline inappropriate but an obvious attempt on her part to look more upscale. It made me feel bad for her, guilty. It was obvious she believed that this thing we had was moving in one direction while I was certain it was going nowhere. Certain I had to end this tonight.

  She was bubbly and chatty for the entire ride to the restaurant. I smiled, asked her questions, made conversation in return—tried not to be the heartless dick that I was.

  When I opened her car door, she looked at me wide-eyed, as if no one had ever done that for her before, as if I was Prince fucking Charming. She flashed me a bright smile and said, “There are so many things I just love about you, Jeremy. You’re so polite.”

  I couldn’t wait for the night to be over and it hadn’t even really begun. I just had this feeling, a sense of foreboding that sat like acid in the pit of my gut, that with one or two drinks tonight, Kenzie would be professing her undying love for me.

  And she thinks I’m polite? I wanted to remind her that after Sunday’s fuck fest, I’d practically peeled her off me, couldn’t look her in the eye, and practically left tire tracks as I sped away after dropping her off in front of her apartment. No, I was not polite and I was not good.

  I was miserable.

  When I was in her presence, I always had a simmering sense of irritation. I attributed it to the fact that our meetings were never initiated by me. But there was something else. Kenzie was pleasant enough and she had shown me glimpses of her sweet side, but in the short time I’d known her, she’d flashed a little nasty as well. Tip-offs to what I assumed was a catty and possessive side. The back off look she shot to the waitress that first night at Red’s, her constant need to grip my arm and hold my hand when we were together, and tonight, her impatience when our waitress didn’t materialize within two minutes of our party being seated.

  Our waitress.

  I didn’t have to look up to know it was her. That sweet lilt as she spoke her greeting? I’d know that voice anywhere. It was the voice that had haunted my dreams for years. Make me yours, Jeremy, please.

  I raised my eyes slowly as I felt Frank nudge me under the table. Her hair was up in a ponytail, exposing her neck, giving me a full view of her face. Full, dark pink lips, big brown eyes, creamy soft skin—flushed just slightly.

  So beautiful.

  I saw her expression change. She continued smiling but her brows puckered in a confused response to the subtle but snotty barb Kenzie had just lobbed. Carolyn stayed composed. I felt protective over Carolyn but also wanted to shield Kenzie. It was so fucking confusing. Kenzie’s pettiness angered me but I was also embarrassed on her behalf. Carolyn’s persistent kind smile and her refusal to stoop low left Kenzie looking the fool and I felt bad for her. She was no match for Carolyn, in any way.

  When Carolyn finally looked my way, her shock was evident. It was clear that she hadn’t noticed me in the busy bustle of the restaurant before that very moment. Her eyes widened but I thought I saw one side of her mouth creep up. Could she possibly be happy to see me? If she was, the feeling was fleeting. She looked back and forth between me and Kenzie. I saw painful recognition flash in her eyes.

  “Holy crap,” Frank said, letting out a breath as soon as Kenzie and Sadie had left the table to use the ladies’ room.

  We were already three rounds of drinks in; the girls were acting silly and were too loud. Kenzie was making a point of touching me at every given opportunity. I’d raised my head twice to see Carolyn’s eyes fixed on that exact spot where Kenzie’s hand rested over mine on the table, rubbing lazy circles into my skin. And when Frank, the idiot, mentioned how stoked he was for skiing this winter and the girls started making drunken plans for the four of us to spend weekends at my place in Killington, I could swear that Carolyn overheard.

  I wanted to fucking scream.

  I couldn’t bear Carolyn’s discomfort tonight—the awkward way she stumbled as she tried to recite the specials, the way her hand trembled just slightly as she wrote down our orders. She was making mistakes, which was so unlike her. I watched, pained, as she set plates in front of customers who then informed her that they’d ordered something different.

  I also couldn’t stand the desperate way Kenzie was attempting to work her way in with me—the suggestive glances, the overly familiar touches. If I felt like things weren’t quite right between us before, tonight just made it all the more obvious.

  I felt nothing but disdain for her when she reprimanded Carolyn and when she waffled over her dinner order, needing me to help her decide. Really? But my contempt for her was immediately replaced by guilt. The girl had lost the love of her life. She was looking for someone to care about her, looking for some kindness, some romance. Through my careless greed, my selfish need for the temporary comfort of a body next to mine—for a fuck, I’d led her to believe something about us that was not true.

  “You know I had no idea she worked here, right?”

  “I know, Frank. Just shut up about it, all right? I just wanna get through the night. No ordering fucking desert, either.”

  “Got it,” he said, dejected.

  “One more round?” Kenzie looked to Sadie, giggling as they sat back down.

  “Yes, if we can get that waitress’ attention,” Sadie replied, heavy on the bitchy.

  “Can I get you another round of drinks?” asked the kid who seemed to have taken over our table for Carolyn. The girls gave their orders and then he asked me and Frank if we wanted another round of beers. I noticed as he spoke to us his eyes stayed fixed on Kenzie’s tits.

  As he walked off, Sadie hissed, “What a little pervert.”

  “I know,” Kenzie said indignantly. “He was totally rude.”

  “He’s probably sixteen…seventeen tops,” I said, dismissively, excusing his actions.

  “Someone needs to teach him some manners,” Kenzie huffed.

  Did she think I was taking on that assignment? Defending her honor from a horny teenager who’d ogled what she’d put out for public viewing? Not happening. “If a boy sees those,” I said, gesturing with my head towards her breasts, “he’s going to look.”

  She took my statement as a compliment, not as a declaration of my indifference. When Sadie and Frank became involved in a side conversation, she looked down briefly towards her breasts, then raised her heated eyes to me and whispered, “These are only for you.”

  Fuck me.

  Carolyn came over only once more but it was enough to put the final nail in this coffin. “I hope you enjoyed everything. Can I get you any coffee or desert, or would you like the check?”

  I’m sure she was praying we’d ask for the check. She wanted us gone as much as I wanted to leave. This entire night was a fucking misery.

  “Everything was great. The check’s fine, Carolyn, thanks,” Frank said, without asking the girls if they wanted desert. I sat there silent, willing her to look at me. She didn’t make eye contact as she placed the check on the table between me and Frank.

  “I wanted a cannoli,
Frank,” Sadie whined.

  Kenzie eyed me and then asked cautiously, “Who is that girl? How do you two know her?”

  We answered simultaneously. Frank said, “We went to the same high school,” while I said, “Carolyn was my girlfriend.”

  Kenzie’s face paled, her expression morphing from hurt to anger. She crossed her arms underneath her chest. “Did you know she would be here?”

  “No.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Sadie reassured her.

  “Was it, Jeremy? Is she long gone and forgotten?”

  I just looked at her, attempting to come up with something to soothe her, to make her feel better. But the only thing that would make her feel better was a lie.

  Kenzie excused herself, took her coat off the back of her chair and then left in a huff. I followed her out.

  Kenzie had tears rolling down her cheeks when I caught up to her on the sidewalk outside. “Hey, I didn’t know she was here. I’m so sorry, Kenzie. I feel terrible.”

  “You still care about her.”

  I looked up to the sky and blew out a tired breath. “Please get in, Kenzie,” I said as I opened the passenger side door for her. “Let me take you home.”

  After fifteen minutes of very uncomfortable silence, Kenzie turned to me and asked, “So she’s the one? The one that Sadie told me about? The one that totally screwed you over?”

  Kenzie deserved a lot of things. She did not deserve my life story, though, and I was not listening to anyone talk shit about Carolyn. Not happening.

  “That was a bad time, Kenzie. Carolyn didn’t set out to hurt me or anyone else.”

  Her hands were in her lap, balled into fists. “I find it pretty hard to believe that you had no idea she worked there. This is a pretty small fucking town.”

  “I didn’t know. And remember, I didn’t make these plans.”

  She nodded, a bitter smile on her face. “Come to think of it, Jeremy, you haven’t made any plans with me. Every time…you make me feel like I’m being pushed on you and I should be happy to have any scrap of attention you throw my way. I’m nothing, right?” Her voiced raised higher with each subsequent sentence. “Someone you fucked when you were drunk and horny, right? Fuck you, Jeremy! I deserve better than you!”