Burned

by Hope, Amity

  It really wasn’t all that early. It was almost ten, but I was pretty sure I got my point across. Or not.

  I sidestepped her and headed toward my favorite table in the back corner.

  “So you two aren’t going out?” she asked as she scampered along behind us.

  She apparently needed clarification.

  “We’re not. We’re just friends,” I said. I dropped into the vinyl clad booth.

  “Guess not,” Jake told her with a smile. He took the seat across from me.

  “I’ll have the number four,” I said without even having to look at the menu. After working here for several months, I had it memorized. Apparently Jake did too.

  “The number seven for me,” he said.

  “Coffee?” she asked.

  “No,” I said with a scowl. How anyone could drink something so foul was beyond me.

  “Right,” Clarissa said as she gave herself a little smack in the head. “I should know that by now. Orange juice, though, right?”

  “Actually,” I said, “I’ll have a glass of milk please.” Milk went with waffles far better than orange juice did.

  “I’ll have some coffee,” Jake said.

  “Right,” Clarissa agreed. “Is that everything?”

  We both nodded and then she trotted away.

  “Sorry about the…the smell,” Jake said. He gave me an embarrassed smile.

  I laughed because there really wasn’t much else I could do about it. Not until I could go home and shower. “Don’t worry about it.”

  He pulled a napkin out of the dispenser and began to fidget with it.

  “Hey, Jake?”

  He glanced up at me.

  “What did you mean, you guess not? When Clarissa asked if we were dating?”

  The tips of his ears reddened. “Oh…nothing. It’s just that I thought maybe…”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  I waited.

  He fidgeted.

  “Jake, what?”

  He shook his head and dropped the napkin. “Nothing, really. I just thought that maybe after last night, we might want to…I mean, maybe we should try…”

  “Dating?” I finished for him.

  “Yes. That.”

  “Well,” I said, “it’s not that I’d be opposed. It’s more a matter of you never having asked.”

  He smiled as he reached across the table and clasped my hand. “Lanna, will you go out with me? On a date?”

  I squeezed his hand and grinned back at him. “I would love to.”

  “Here are your drinks,” Clarissa said with a puzzled frown. She was gazing at our joined hands. Her gaze flickered to Jake, then me. She set down my glass and Jake’s cup before scurrying off to the kitchen again.

  “Poor girl looked confused,” Jake said. “I hope she didn’t think we were lying to her.”

  An echoing crash and the sound of glass breaking made me jump in my seat. I yanked my hand from Jake’s and spun around to see where the commotion had come from.

  “You damn klutz!” a man shouted.

  Jake flew out of the booth, crossing the short distance to Clarissa.

  “I’m sorry,” a teary Clarissa murmured. “It was an accident. I’m really s—”

  “You should be!” the man shouted again.

  I hoped that seeing Jake and I holding hands hadn’t caused the accident. Clarissa didn’t seem to be able to concentrate on more than one thing at a time. I felt bad, wondering if her confusion had distracted her.

  The rest of the patrons watched in stunned silence as the man scooped some scrambled eggs off his pants and tossed them at Clarissa who was kneeling on the floor. She was trying to scoop up the remnants of food and shattered glass while he continued to shout insults at her.

  “Hey, now!” Jake growled as he stepped between the fuming patron and Clarissa. He pointed a finger in the man’s face. “I saw you crash into her! She was walking by and you stood up without looking to see if anyone was coming!”

  I got up from our booth and knelt down by Clarissa who now had silent tears streaming down her face.

  “I’ve got this,” I said as I put a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you go to the restroom and clean yourself up?”

  She emitted a little squeaking sound as she nodded and then shot to her feet. She hurried around the corner to the restrooms at the back of the café. I went behind the counter and pulled out the garbage can, a dustpan and a broom. As I knelt down next to the mess again, Roberta, the manager came shooting through the double doors. She wiped her hands on her apron while assessing the situation.

  “What’s going on out here?” she asked.

  “One of your employees decided to toss me my breakfast,” the man shouted.

  “Clarissa?” Roberta asked as she cringed.

  “How the hell should I know?!” he rumbled.

  I picked up the largest chunks of broken glass and clusters of hot eggs, toast and pancakes while they argued over my head.

  “That’s not what happened at all,” Jake said. “I saw the whole thing. I’m telling you, it wasn’t her fault.”

  I carried the wastebasket back to its spot behind the counter. I came back with a handful of soapy rags and I scrubbed the floor. By now, the man was near the door and Jake was in the process of ushering him out. As soon as the sticky mess was cleaned up, I went into the bathroom to check on Clarissa.

  She was standing in front of the sink. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The strands at her hairline were wet, as if she’d splashed water on her face. She scrubbed at her skin with a crunchy paper towel.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She let out a little puff of air. “I’m fine. I should’ve been paying closer attention.”

  “Jake said it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Of course it was my fault,” she said. “You know that when you’re working you need to pay attention to everything.”

  “You can’t anticipate everyone’s moves,” I soothed. “He should’ve looked before trying to leap out of his booth.”

  She looked as if she wanted to argue the point. I gave her a look that let her know she could try, but she couldn’t win.

  She sighed. “I do not want to go back out there.”

  “It’s okay. He’s gone. There aren’t that many other customers,” I said. “And I’m sure that at least some of them saw what happened. They know it wasn’t your fault.”

  “You’re sure he’s gone?”

  “Yes. Jake was ushering him out.”

  Clarissa grimaced. “Roberta is going to be mad.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe not. She doesn’t need customers like that anyway.”

  She fanned her hands against her face for a few moments before turning to me. “What’s really going on with you and Jake?”

  I smiled. “He asked me out, like, just now. Right after you took our order.”

  “Really?! He’s so perfect! He’s hot, smart, driven! That guy is going places,” Clarissa said.

  “Sweet,” I reminded her. “He’s a sweetheart too.”

  She nodded. “Oh, I know. He’s like the perfect package.”

  After a few more minutes of coaxing, Clarissa emerged from the security of the bathroom. A few customers gave her sympathetic glances but most were too busy scarfing down their food to notice.

  “See,” I said. “No biggie.”

  She gave me a weak smile and headed to a group that had just taken a seat.

  I went back to my booth. Our food had been delivered—probably by Roberta—during my absence.

  “I can’t stand people like that,” Jake said quietly. “He reminds me of my…of Frederic. I remember this one time, we were at the Country Club. He’d been drinking and he was telling this story about his golf game. He swung his hand around and he knocked a pitcher of water off the table. It shattered on the floor. He started screaming at the closest waitress, blaming it on her, trying to save face. He ended up getting the poor lady fired and she wasn’t even with
in three feet of our table at the time.” He shook his head, looking frustrated with himself. “I’ve always wished I would’ve said something. Maybe I could’ve saved her job. Or maybe not. Frederic is used to getting his way. But at least I should’ve tried. Anyhow, I didn’t do anything that time but since then, I’ve promised myself I’ll never sit back and watch something like that happen.”

  “Clarissa appreciated you sticking up for her. That was a really nice thing to do,” I said.

  “Look who’s talking,” he said. “You got down on the floor and cleaned up her mess.”

  “Eh,” I said with shrug, “looks like we both helped take care of some trash.”

  “Speaking of unpleasant people,” Jake segued, “sorry I didn’t introduce you to more of my family last night.”

  He hadn’t introduced me to anyone. Not even his mom. Given the opinion of his family that both he and his sister shared, I realized I really didn’t mind.

  “It’s fine. Probably better that way?” I guessed.

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I understand,” I assured him. “I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have introduced you to my mom either.”

  He frowned as he lifted his coffee cup. “Why is that?”

  “She’d hit on you.” I stabbed at a bite of waffle.

  His eyes widened as he subtly choked on the gulp of coffee he forced down. “No way. She wouldn’t do that.”

  “Oh, yes,” I assured him. “She would. She has. And some of the guys I’ve dated are nowhere as hot as you.” My face flamed. “I mean—”

  “You mean you like me,” he teased. I knew it was payback for last night, when I’d asked him if he liked me in front of his sister.

  “Well, obviously,” I said with a wink. “I’m letting you buy me breakfast, aren’t I?”

  He laughed. “I guess you are.”

  He lifted his coffee mug into the air. I raised my glass of milk, wondering what in the world he was doing.

  “To us, and our crazy-ass parents,” he said.

  I laughed as we clinked our drinks together. “To us,” I agreed. And hopefully to good things to come.

  Chapter 9

  I glared at my phone, frustrated that it continued to ring. It was my mother. Again. She’d gone to voicemail half a dozen times already. She’d left a message every single time. She would continue to leave messages.

  Even worse, she would continue to call.

  I swiped it off the kitchen counter. “What?” I demanded.

  “Lanna, sweetheart, that’s no way to answer the phone.”

  “It is when I’m feeling frustrated because you won’t stop calling,” I grumped.

  “I haven’t stopped calling because you haven’t answered. Now, you’ve answered. I’ll stop calling. For awhile. But first,” she said authoritatively, “we need to talk.”

  “Do we?” I said dryly. “I’m not so sure there’s much more to say. The last time we spoke you called me a naïve, gullible child.” Perhaps I had been a naïve, gullible child. But I’d needed support from my mother, not a reprimand.

  “I’m sorry about that. I would’ve apologized sooner but you’ve made it a bit difficult for me considering that you’ve refused to talk to me.”

  I grabbed a dishrag and began to scrub the already spotless counter. She had a point but I didn’t want to admit it. “I’m kind of busy right now. So if that’s all…?”

  “Lanna,” she said sternly, “did you hear me? I said I’m sorry.”

  “I heard you,” I said as I rinsed the rag out. “I’m just not sure I believe you.”

  “Believe me. I mean it. I was upset. I got carried away. It just…it pains me to see someone take advantage of you. To be honest, I took it out on you when I really wanted to take it out on Kyle. Of course, since he’s nowhere to be found, I didn’t have the luxury. I’m sorry for my misplaced anger,” she said softly.

  I settled onto a stool at the breakfast bar. My elbows rested on the counter as I kept the phone perched at my ear. She actually sounded like she meant it.

  “How are you doing?” she asked.

  “Good. Great even.” It wasn’t a lie.

  “Holly told me you’re working for a real estate agency. I should’ve heard that information from you.”

  “In order for you to hear it from me, I would’ve had to have been speaking to you.”

  “Indeed.”

  When she had called me a gullible child, what I heard was stupid. My mother thought I was stupid for getting myself into the mess I’d gotten myself into. Maybe she wasn’t wrong. But taking out her anger on me hadn’t been right either.

  I was the one who had lost…just about everything.

  “Listen, Lanna, I really wish you would’ve come home. There’s something I need to discuss with you. I would prefer to do it in person,” she said. “It’s…important. And it affects you, too.”

  I wrinkled my brow in confusion. “Weird. That’s the line you always give me when you’re about to divorce my latest step-dad. But you already gave me that line when you told me you were going to divorce Rick. Mom,” I said, feigning shock, “did you get married again without my knowing it? Are you divorcing another step-father that I haven’t even met?”

  I was met with silence.

  I winced.

  Maybe I’d gone too far.

  She cleared her throat. “I suppose after all I’ve put you through, I deserve that.”

  “No,” I said, instantly regretting my snarkiness, “that was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You have every right to be upset with me.” She sighed. “I only wanted to make your childhood better. I never wanted you to grow up without a father. I tried so hard to replace him.” She was quiet but I didn’t interrupt. Her tone was so serious. I had a hunch that she had something important to say. “I loved your father more than I have ever loved anyone…except you. I’ve finally, after all this time,” she said with an audible sigh, “realized there is no replacing him. There is only moving on from him.”

  It sounded so obvious to me…but had she really only just now had this epiphany? I kept my mouth shut, because who was I to judge? I hadn’t been through what she’d been through.

  “Now that I’ve realized it, accepted it, I’ve realized something else.”

  “What is that?” I asked, my tone quiet and encouraging.

  “I love Rick,” she said firmly.

  I bit my bottom lip. That realization—it seemed to me—should've come before the I do-s.

  “Mom,” I said as gently as I could, “I’m not an expert on love but isn’t that the kind of conclusion you come to before you walk down the aisle?”

  She laughed again and I thought I heard a hint of tears behind it. “One would think. But I’ve done everything backwards all these years. I’ve always thought I could force myself to love someone if I just gave them enough time.”

  “So you went through with several marriages hoping to fall in love with your husband.” I rubbed my temple. For a smart woman, this was one of the most asinine things I’d ever heard.

  “Well, yes,” she admitted. “I never had much luck falling in love before the wedding. I always hoped that once we were married…things would fall into place.”

  “Instead,” I pointed out, “everything always fell apart.”

  “I’m afraid it did,” she said sadly.

  “So what’s different this time?” To be honest, I was skeptical. After all these years, what could possibly have changed? Her epiphany didn’t sound particularly enlightening to me. It just sounded…crazy.

  “Rick. He insisted that we go to marriage counseling. Of course, I fought him on it. But he’s the only man I’ve ever married who is as stubborn as I am. So we went. Eventually, marriage counseling led to just me going to counseling. It’s helped, Lanna. It really has.”

  Of all the husbands that she’d had, none, as far as I knew, had ever fought for her. My opinion of Rick escalated a bit.

  �
��What now? Where does this leave the two of you?” I asked.

  “He moved back in last weekend. We’re going to continue to go to couples therapy. I know how blasé it all sounds, but I feel that I really have made progress working through all of my issues. I want my marriage to work. For the first time since your father, I want this to work. I love him, Lanna. I really do.”

  “I’m glad.” I realized I was glad my mother loved her husband. I also realized how bizarre it was to have to come to that realization. It should’ve just been a given.

  “I know I haven’t been a very good role model for you.”

  I rolled my eyes and refrained from verbally agreeing. No need to hurt her feelings.

  Though with her next words, she hurt mine.

  “You’ve had such terrible taste in boys. I feel like it’s all my fault.”

  “Mom,” I said flatly, “my taste has not been that bad. I’ve made one mistake.” Granted, it was a big one, but still.

  “None of your relationships have worked out.”

  “Mother! None of my relationships have worked out because I’m young. I’m dating!”

  “But look at what a nice boy Holly found!”

  I clamped my teeth down on my bottom lip. Holly had found a great guy. I wouldn’t argue that Max was anything other than terrific. But Holly got lucky. Damn lucky. There weren’t a lot of guys out there as great as Max.

  But Jake seemed like he could be pretty damn great too.

  “You’re right. Max is awesome.”

  “Don’t be discouraged. Maybe someday,” she placated.

  “Actually, I’m seeing someone now. His name is Jake.” The moment the words were out, I regretted them. I desperately wished this phone call had a rewind button. Speaking of buttons, Mom pushed mine all the time. Too often I blurted out things I wish I hadn’t said. Now, apparently, was one of those times.

  “Tell me he doesn’t know about your inheritance.”

  “That’s the first thing you want to know about him?” I asked.

  She let out a weighty, disappointed sigh. “Lanna! I thought we realized after Marcus and Peter that it was best not to flaunt our finances.”

  Marcus and Peter—aka husband number two and husband number three—had been out of my life so long I couldn’t even picture their faces.