Love Wins

by David C. Dawson

  A knot began to form in Kirk’s stomach. A chill wave surged through his body. Breathing was becoming difficult. Air. He needed air. He needed to get outside before he passed out and made a complete fool of himself.

  He was almost to Marlon’s station now. He spotted the top of Ashley’s blond head above an intervening planter adorned with fresh greenery. His back was to Kirk. He seemed to be engrossed in conversation with Marlon. Was the server smirking? Was he directing a knowing gaze Kirk’s way? What did he know or think he knew?

  No, no, no… he couldn’t do this. He turned and rushed out the front door, past the startled hostess, out into the warm night air, trying to still the overly loud beat of his heart as he attempted to force air into his lungs. Once he’d managed to even out his breathing a little, he fingered the car keys in his pocket. He should finish his shift, he should talk to Ashley, he should….

  To hell with it. He almost raced to his car in his urgency to get away from there as quickly as possible.

  A WEEK had passed since Kirk’s impetuous exodus from Venezia. He hadn’t been back to the restaurant since that unfortunate night when he’d sped away from the place as if the hounds of hell were snapping at his heels. He’d called and left a message for his parents that he was taking a leave of absence. He’d never used any of the time off he’d accumulated at the job. He was more than overdue for a break.

  He found it telling that they never called to ask how he was or find out why he felt the sudden need to take a break. He did receive an impersonal note from Payroll, approving his absence.

  He’d spent the past seven days in the apartment he shared with his brother, holed up in his room, only venturing out on occasion for food or other necessities. He waited for times when he knew Tyler was either at work or asleep, his door shut. His brother also made no effort to speak with him.

  On the other hand, Jennifer called and texted every day. At first he ignored her, in the same way he ignored the diner, staying away as if something bad might happen if he should show up there. But he found that not going there wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be. He forced himself to resist an urge to go back that was so intense it was almost painful. There was something inside him that yearned to see Ashley again. He put the feeling down to the fact that he could no longer sleep again, his insomnia having returned with a vengeance. But deep down, he suspected it was more than that. He missed Ashley’s lazy smile, his easy laugh and gentle manner. Missed talking over his day with him… missed his touch.

  God, Kirk felt completely fucked up. And he didn’t know what to do about it.

  Finally he broke down. He’d go back to Sweeties, but only to help out his sister and Jazzy. They needed him.

  At least that’s the excuse he gave to himself even as he walked through the door.

  By now Ashley had no doubt moved on. He didn’t need Kirk. He’d be just fine without him, he told himself as he strolled into the diner and grabbed a booth in the far corner.

  “Hey, bro, long time no see!”

  His sister’s voice broke unexpectedly into Kirk’s thoughts. He glanced up in surprise to find her leaning over his table, both hands flat on the surface, her eyes fixed on him. Perhaps he should have anticipated this. He thought he was being mature and levelheaded, but obviously Jen had other thoughts on the subject.

  Maybe he should have responded to even one text or phone call, he thought belatedly.

  Why should he feel guilty about anything? His seating choice was a matter of privacy, so he could add some notes to his wish book without anyone looking over his shoulder. Never mind he hadn’t touched it once over the past seven days. And it certainly wasn’t because he was avoiding anyone.

  Ashley.

  He couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at the cheerful blond who roamed back and forth between the counter and the few occupied tables, glibly chatting up his customers, seemingly indifferent to Kirk’s presence.

  Of course, turnabout was fair play, as Kirk had not addressed two words to him either since his arrival. He didn’t even know what to say under the circumstances. Surely silence was his best defense? Of course, he could have done that a lot more easily at home and not subjected himself to Jen’s abuse. Not what she’d said but what she was probably going to say.

  Hell, he didn’t even know why he was there, to be honest.

  Kirk rolled his eyes. “It’s only been a few days. Don’t make it sound like I was missing in action or something. What’s the matter? Have you had need of my culinary skills?”

  Jennifer arched her brows at him, her look calculated to pierce the thickest shell of indifference. “We’re getting by,” she said. “And no, that’s not why I asked. How are you doing?”

  “Same as always,” he asserted. “Nothing’s changed. The status quo is the same as it ever was.” He tried to sound flippant but didn’t quite manage the proper nonchalance to pull it off.

  “I’m not talking about Venezia, Kirk. Where, by the way, I happen to know you’re not working at the moment. I’m talking about you. You know, the man behind the curtain?”

  “Very funny.” He cast his eyes on the cup of coffee sitting in front of him, surprised to find himself stirring it, creating miniature black whirlpools. He removed the spoon and set it on the table with a clatter.

  “Okay, Mr. Evasive, let me be more straightforward with you. Ever since you hooked up with Ashley, you’ve been happier and more relaxed than I’ve ever seen you. Then suddenly you pull this disappearing act. You walk out on Venezia, and you stop coming here. What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Kirk bluffed. “I decided to take some time off. Lots of people do that. Do you grill them all?”

  “Only the ones I care about. I care about you, bro, and I care about Ashley. Have you given any thought to what you’re doing to him with your unexplained absence?”

  Kirk’s glance flickered briefly to the blond, then back to his sister. “I don’t know what you mean. He’s not exactly heartbroken, is he? Obviously he’s moved on. No harm done.”

  “I would say that’s a matter of opinion.”

  Kirk felt heat rise in his cheeks. “Can we drop the subject, please?”

  Jen’s brow furrowed, reminding Kirk of a volcano about to erupt. His sister didn’t say anything immediately, as if gathering her thoughts. Finally she spoke, her tone deceptively calm.

  “He’s never said anything, and I don’t think he would. He’s not like that. But I see him looking for you. Every night since you’ve been gone, he waits for you. And when you finally do show up, you act as though he doesn’t exist. What kind of assholery is that, Kirk? Seriously?”

  “Seriously, there’s nothing to discuss. If you want me to leave, I will.” He closed the book and started to slide toward the edge of the booth, suiting action to words.

  “Want me to kick his ass, Jen?”

  Great, Jazzy had come out of the kitchen. Hovering just behind Jen, she looked every bit as annoyed with Kirk as her wife did. Her cheeks were flushed from working over the grill, her eyes filled with fire.

  “I’m considering it,” his sister replied.

  “That’s easy for you to say. You know I won’t hit a woman,” Kirk growled.

  “Never stopped you before.”

  “We were kids,” Kirk protested. “Not quite the same thing. Besides, you got more than your fair share of punches in, and you know it.”

  “Which is why I think I can take you now.”

  “Jesus Christ, that’s so adult. Look, I think I’m just going to go. There are other all-night diners in this town.”

  Jazmine blocked him from exiting the booth. “That’s the coward’s way out, Kirk. I expected better from you.”

  “I thought maybe you could use my help. That’s why I came in. But if all you want to do is yell, I can get that at home.”

  He started to rise. Jazzy laid a surprisingly gentle hand on his arm.

  “We do need your help. Can you watch the kitchen for
a little bit? People have missed you, you know. Customers, I mean. They ask about the dishes you added to the menu when you were here. We missed you.”

  His sister-in-law’s words hurt more than he expected, taking the wind out of his sails. He was too tired to argue, too tired of hiding, and too tired to think. “I missed you too,” he said, his tone softening. “Sure, I’ll help.” He gave his sister a guilty glance. “Both of you,” he added, in case she misunderstood. He was relieved to see her nod.

  “Can we talk later? Please, Kirk?”

  “I don’t know what we have—” he began but quickly amended that to “Sure” when the storm clouds began to gather once more. Of course, there was someone he really needed to talk to more, but he didn’t even begin to know what to say to him.

  “You know you shouldn’t leave the grill unattended,” he groused as he headed toward the kitchen, but there was no bark to his bite. Better to bitch than be bitched at.

  Entering the kitchen, he grabbed a spare apron and threw it on over his suit to protect it. Some habits died hard. He might not be working this week, but he still dressed as though he were. There were no orders up at the moment. Belatedly, he realized he hadn’t asked Jen to take his book for him. He imagined she would, though. Right now he wasn’t overly concerned about it. He had other things on his mind.

  Or one person, to be precise.

  He surreptitiously glanced through the window as if looking for customers, but he knew better. It was Ashley he watched, the way he moved when he poured coffee for customers at the counter. The way he nicely filled out a pair of jeans. So close and yet so far.

  Suddenly, Ashley turned, and their eyes met for the first time since Kirk had arrived.

  Kirk froze. He’d wanted this, hadn’t he? So why the hell didn’t he say something?

  Ashley spoke first. “Hey, you,” he said softly. “Taking any special requests tonight?”

  Yes. You, please.

  But what actually came out was, “Um, sure.”

  “Good.”

  Ashley flashed him a quick smile, then jotted something down in his order book, tore off the sheet, and set it in the window. Kirk nodded and took it, suddenly tongue-tied. Ashley turned away before he managed to find his voice. Kirk glanced at the order. It was for a bacon-and-sprout burger with Gouda cheese and chimichurri sauce, along with an order of fries. The burger was one he’d come up with in a whimsical moment, and it had caught on with some of the late-night crowd.

  At least he had something else to focus on. He got some lean ground beef out of the walk-in and let it sit out while he deftly sliced potatoes for homemade fries, seasoned them, and dropped them into the fryer. Then he performed a quick mise en place for the burger and set it on the grill. Once it was done to the customer’s liking, he assembled it, plated it, and started to ring the bell for pickup. Changing his mind, he held the plate in the window and called, “Ashley, order up,” and was gratified when the blond turned his blinding smile on him.

  Why was Ashley being so nice to him? By rights he should have been indignant or angry or something. Anything but pleasant. Instead he thanked Kirk and took the plate. As their fingers made contact, frissons of pure pleasure shot through Kirk.

  He quickly dropped his hand, and for a moment Ashley’s smile faltered, but only for a second before he turned to serve his customer.

  Kirk sighed. How could he explain the situation to Ashley when he could barely understand it himself? He had his life at Venezia and his plans, and Ashley and Sweeties didn’t fit into those plans.

  So he maintained a stoic silence that he hated himself for, hated the look of confusion in Ashley’s big blue eyes. And when Jazzy came into the kitchen, before she could even begin a conversation, he told her he had to go and left the diner without a backward glance.

  The next night he returned to Venezia. It was time to take control of his life and establish his priorities, if he was going to open a restaurant of his own. All evening, he tried to maintain his usual unflappable presence in the dining room. But something was wrong with him. He couldn’t seem to stand still. In between customers, he paced back and forth in the relative privacy of the cramped server station. The waitstaff looked at him as though he’d lost his mind, and Tyler started to make a snide comment, but at one heated glare from Kirk, he quickly shut up and made an excuse to be somewhere else.

  Kirk felt as though he were losing his mind. Something was wrong, but he didn’t know what it was. All he knew was he didn’t want to be there. He hated the place, hated the décor and the food and everything else. Hated the customers—pretentious people who had too high an opinion of themselves. Entitled underappreciative people.

  The same people who’d be his customers if he had his way and opened the restaurant of his dreams.

  Finally he couldn’t stand it any longer. When it was time for his break, he went to an empty back room and pulled out his phone. When a familiar voice answered, he breathed a sigh of relief, afraid she might not pick up.

  “Kirk, is that you?”

  “Yeah, it’s me, Jen.”

  “Aren’t you at work? Is something wrong?”

  “Everything’s wrong,” he blurted out. “I can’t explain it, but I feel wrong, this place feels wrong. I feel like I’m going crazy, Jen. What’s wrong with me?” If this kept up, he thought he might burst into tears, and that was something he hadn’t done since he was a small boy, when his brother had said he’d give him something to cry about and he had.

  “Kirk, honey, calm down,” Jen tried to soothe him. “I’m sure everything’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not, it’s not,” he repeated.

  Finally she said, “I’ll be right there. Meet me in the parking lot.”

  After she hung up, Kirk stared at the phone for a long moment, already feeling better knowing Jen was on her way. It would take her a good thirty minutes to get there, but he didn’t care. He headed into the kitchen, past the cooks, who didn’t give him a second glance, and out the back door.

  When his sister pulled up in her twenty-year-old car, he got in and sat shivering in the front seat. “Get me out of here, please,” he murmured, and she obliged without hesitation.

  “What happened tonight?” she asked after several minutes had passed.

  He leaned against the passenger door, staring out into the night, trying to pull himself together. “Nothing,” he said. “Absolutely nothing. A typical night. And yet… and yet… I couldn’t stand it. Everything felt wrong. But mostly I felt wrong.”

  He turned horrified eyes toward her as he spoke, as realization washed over him. She pulled over into a shopping center parking lot, threw the car into park, and faced him.

  “I know exactly how you feel,” she said, stroking his cheek gently. “Been there, done that, remember?”

  “This is why you left Venezia? Because you felt wrong?”

  “Because I felt out of place,” she confirmed. “I realized it wasn’t where I wanted to be. Not with those people, not in that place.” She shrugged. “That might be fine for some people, but I wanted something different. And I found it in Sweeties.”

  Kirk took deep shuddering breaths, trying to collect his scattered thoughts.

  “It’s not fine dining,” she continued, “but the food is good, especially when you’re cooking, and the people are terrific. Plus I have Jazzy. What more could I want?”

  What more indeed.

  Everything Kirk had, everything he dreamed of and hoped for… all of it swirled in his brain and in his heart. What if Venezia wasn’t it for him? Maybe he wasn’t right for it either. And maybe his parents knew that, whether they were willing to admit to it or not. Tyler was part of their world, but Kirk didn’t fit in.

  But at Sweeties, he felt good and comfortable… and at peace with himself. Why had he never realized that before?

  “Jen,” he said, taking his sister’s hand in his and meeting her concerned gaze. “Is there room for me at Sweeties? Or have you hired someone t
o take that shift?”

  Jen gave him a wide smile. “Consider yourself hired. I’d love to have you there, Kirk. We all would.”

  Kirk breathed a sigh of relief and slumped back against the seat. “Take me there,” he said suddenly. “Right now. Please.” His gut instinct told him that was where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be.

  By the time they reached the diner, Kirk was surprisingly calm. The feelings of uneasiness that had consumed him at Venezia had disappeared, and in their place was a newfound peace.

  “Let me out here,” he instructed his sister as they pulled into the parking lot of the diner. She slowed the car, and he jumped out and hurried inside. He had amends to make—if it wasn’t too late for him to do so.

  A few customers dotted the diner, between the booths and the counter. Jazzy was just coming out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, talking to Ashley, whose back was to the front door. She stopped in midsentence at the sight of Kirk, and Ashley spun about, his eyes widening in surprise.

  “Jazzy,” Kirk began in a rush as he approached his sister-in-law. “Do you mind if I borrow Ashley? Jen’s parking the car. She’ll be right in.”

  “Um, yeah, sure, Kirk, go ahead.” Jazzy seemed at an unaccustomed loss for words.

  “If Ashley wants to, that is,” Kirk amended, focusing on the silent blond.

  Ashley nodded his assent.

  “Use the office,” Jazzy said.

  “Thanks, Jazz.” Kirk reached out for Ashley’s hand, and when it was given, he led him in the direction of the office and closed the door behind them.

  “Is something wrong?” Ashley asked once they were alone, his fair brows creased in concern.

  “Yes, a lot,” Kirk admitted. He waved Ashley into a chair, then knelt before him and took his hand once again. “I’ve been such an asshole, and I’m so sorry.”