by S. H. Kolee
Crystal reluctantly turned to me. "Okay," she said, with a hint of surliness as she jotted my order down on her notepad. She turned back to Simon and her whole demeanor changed. "What about you?" she asked with a suggestive smile.
Simon looked up at her, expressionless. "I'll have a coffee, too. And I'll take the Ploughman's Platter. Eggs scrambled. Wheat toast. Thanks." He reached for my menu and placed it on top of his, handing them to Crystal and then looking at me, clearly dismissing her.
Crystal pursed her lips in displeasure and stalked away. She was a pretty girl and probably made a lot of tips because of it. A male customer showing complete indifference was most likely an anomaly for her.
"Great," I said with a snort. "I don't know if she's just going to spit in my food or yours too. This is what I was talking about. Hanging girls."
Simon grinned and shrugged lightly. "I can't say anything without perpetuating this idea of yours that I have a big ego so I'll just keep silent on that topic."
I laughed. Simon was a contradiction on so many levels. There were times when he seemed so full of himself, but other times when he could be self-deprecating. I had a hard time trying to determine which was the real Simon.
"What's a Ploughman's Platter anyway?" I asked. "It sounds intimidating."
"It's eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, toast and a side of pancakes," Simon replied. "I figure it's enough to tide me over till dinner."
"Ugh," I said, grossed out. "You're going to have a coronary eating all that. Where do you put it all anyways?" There wasn't an ounce of fat on his body from my vantage point.
Simon patted his flat stomach. "Right here. I'm still a growing boy."
I smirked. "You better be careful. No one likes a fat rocker. You don't want to have to rename your band the Paunchmen."
Simon laughed and shook his head. "I must really like you. Either that or I'm a masochist."
I bit my lip, unsure what to say next. Simon was always saying things that flummoxed me. Fortunately at that moment Crystal appeared, placing two cups of coffee and a small pitcher of milk on the table, not too lightly.
"Here," she intoned flatly, and walked away.
"Definitely in both of our plates," I concluded as I grabbed the pitcher and poured a good amount of milk in my coffee. I ripped open a couple of packets of sugar and dumped them in as well, stirring with a spoon as I watched Simon taking a sip of coffee, his eyes looking at me from above the rim. I knew from before at Colette's that Simon drank his coffee black.
"So what did you want to do today besides stuffing yourself with cholesterol and going to the supermarket?" I asked, taking a sip of my coffee. Despite the less than stellar service, the coffee was strong and tasted freshly brewed.
"Maybe go to a home store," Simon replied. "I need some kitchen stuff like pots and pans, and also some new sheets and towels. Oh, and a shower curtain."
"Okay," I said slowly, feeling a little discomfited. That seemed like something you would do with a significant other, picking out sheets and kitchenware. It seemed too intimate for two people that were practically strangers, having met just a week ago. Although Simon had never felt like a stranger. Maybe it was because he had been in one of my visions. But I couldn't imagine a world in which Simon didn't exist, knowing intellectually that this world had existed just a week ago.
I took another sip of coffee to clear my errant thoughts. "There's a home store not far from the supermarket that we can stop by," I said with more confidence.
"Great." Simon folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. "I really appreciate you helping me with this. It's much more enjoyable than doing it on my own."
His blue eyes were looking at me intently and I felt my breath catch. I knew Simon was my age but he seemed so much older sometimes. I'm not sure if it was because of the feelings he awakened in me, but I knew that if I ever let myself get swept away by him I was in big trouble.
So I stupidly blurted out, "I'm sure you could've found someone else to go with you. Samantha would have probably been more than happy to help you." I instantly regretted my words. It made me sound jealous, which was the last thing I wanted Simon to think.
Simon narrowed his eyes as he gazed at me. I couldn't read his expression. "I guess the real question is, who did I want to help me? And fortunately I'm not afraid to ask for what I want. So here you are."
I gulped. And then forced a laugh. "I agree. I make a much better friend than Samantha. I won't try to take advantage of you," I joked.
Simon paused and then gave a slow smile that made my insides turn to jelly. "Too bad."
Dangerous territory, I lectured myself. Avert, avert!
"So," I said, taking a deep breath. "How's Maxwell comparing to Yale so far? How are your classes?"
Simon didn't answer right away as he just looked at me. Then he took a sip of coffee. "It's great," he replied. "I liked Yale, but I just wasn't interested in studying law. I like my classes here so far. And the professors seem pretty cool. It's nice to actually have classes that I look forward to, rather than having to sleep through an Ethics class."
Crystal returned to our table, balancing four plates expertly. She slid the Eggs Benedict in front of me, and the three other plates in front of Simon. The eggs, bacon, sausage and potatoes were heaped on one plate, and the pancakes and toast were on two separate plates respectively.
"Enjoy," Crystal said shortly. She seemed to be transitioning from spurned love interest back to bored server.
"Wow," I intoned, looking at the spread before Simon. "What are the ethics of me letting you eat all that? What if you keel over on stage tonight?"
"Don't worry," Simon said. He reached over and slid the ketchup bottle that was already on the table closer to me. He then started digging into his food. "You're not culpable. Besides, I've got a stomach of steel. One time when we were kids, Grant and I drank a half gallon of chocolate milk, not realizing that it had gone bad. Grant was sick as a dog all night but I was perfectly fine."
I laughed as I took the ketchup bottle and covered the home fries that had come with my breakfast with it. I tried not to think about Simon's automatic gesture, obviously remembering how much I liked ketchup, as I tucked into my food as well. "It sounds like you and Grant were really close growing up," I said.
"Yeah, since we lived so close to each other and were the same age," Simon shared, slathering butter on some toast. "Even though we went to different schools, we spent most weekends and summers together."
"How did you like growing up in Connecticut?" I asked, comfortable now that the subject wasn't about me. I always felt much more at ease when I wasn't the focal point of a conversation.
Simon shrugged. "It was good. Nothing too earth shattering. It was the regular suburban upbringing."
From what I had heard from Grant, Simon's life was a little more than the usual suburban life. Simon's father was head of a shipping conglomerate and the Crewe family lived a life of luxury. The shipping company had been a family business but apparently Simon's father had grown it from a small domestic operation to a global outfit. Grant's mother held shares in the company, but Simon's father had the majority stakehold.
But I knew that money didn't solve everything and that Simon had a somewhat difficult relationship with his father. Even so, money helped solve a lot of other problems. All it took to realize that was to not have enough of it.
"What about you?" Simon asked. "You talked a little about your family the other night at the East End, but not much."
I shrugged, slowly chewing through a bite of food as I thought about how much I wanted to share. "My life is pretty boring. Philly isn't a very exciting town. Except if you like cheesesteaks. Then it's the place to be." I had a habit of trying to divert the conversation from myself with lame jokes.
"Are you and your dad close?" Simon asked, pausing with a forkful of food midway to his mouth.
I hesitated. "We get along okay," I said simply. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about my
father. I busied myself with my eggs.
Simon raised his eyebrows. "I guess that means no."
I sighed. "I wouldn't say we're close," I said, drawing out my words. "But I love him. He's the only family I have." I didn't add that I had doubts about whether he loved me. I was surprised enough that I had shared with Simon as much as I had.
Simon gazed at me. "It must have been hard to lose your mother so young," he said. "You don't have any other family besides your father?"
I fidgeted with the napkin on my lap. "I don't really remember my mother so I don't really have anyone to miss. I'm not sure if that makes it easier or harder," I admitted. "My mom was an only child and her parents died before I was born. The rest of her extended family is in Korea and I've never had any contact with them."
"What about your dad's family?" Simon asked. He had a way of asking with no pity that made me open up to him. One of the hardest things for me to handle was people feeling sorry for me when they found out my mother had passed away.
"He's pretty much estranged from his family," I explained, stabbing the same bite of food with my fork on the plate over and over again. "He's never talked much about them, or about why he hasn't had any contact with them for years. I figured if they don't want to hear from him, they don't want to hear from me." I shrugged as I finally put the bite of food in my mouth.
Simon continued eating his food, looking at me thoughtfully. "Well, as cliched as it sounds, it's really the people that you choose to surround yourself with that become your family, not just the people who share your blood," he said. "You and Sarah are more like sisters than any real sisters I know. And I know Grant and Marcus would do anything for you. Grant talked about you guys a lot when he would spend his summers at home."
"He did?" I asked nervously. I didn't want to imagine the things Grant had told Simon about me.
Simon laughed. "Relax," he reassured me. "He didn't tell me any of your deep dark secrets. Not that he knows any. He says that you hold things pretty close, not really revealing a lot. Grant said he doesn't know much about you except for what he sees for himself, even though you guys practically lived in each other's apartments last year."
I wrinkled my nose. "That makes me sound weird. I'm really not that interesting." I didn't let myself think about the one secret that I did have. The one that I'm sure everyone would find wildly interesting. The one that would label me as a freak.
"I'll be the judge of that," Simon said grinning.
I laughed, surprised at how relaxed I felt around him. I didn't want to think about how easy it had been to confide in him. Not that I had told him anything that wasn't a normal confidence between friends, but it was way more than I shared with anyone except Sarah.
I looked down at my plate, surprised to see I had completely finished my Eggs Benedict. "I guess I was hungrier than I thought," I said ruefully, indicating my empty plate.
"Good," Simon said. "It makes me happy to feed you."
What the heck do I say to that? I thought.
I gave Simon a small smile. "Don't be too sure about that. I can eat my weight in food."
"Considering you're a lightweight, I'm not too concerned," Simon said, glancing down at my body. I felt myself flush self-consciously. I knew he didn't mean anything offensive by it, but I was acutely aware that I lacked the curves that Samantha and our waitress Crystal displayed.
I arched an eyebrow to mask my discomfort. "Famous last words." I looked at Simon's plates and saw that he had finished everything except his pancakes. "You didn't finish yours. I'm disappointed in you," I joked.
"I've found that I've lost the taste for pancakes unless they're blueberry and served by a specific someone," he said. Before I could reply, he held his hand up to catch the attention of Crystal to get our check.
I swallowed and said nothing, watching Crystal hurry over and lay the check abruptly on our table. As Simon picked up the check, I grabbed a corner of it. "We're splitting it," I said, not wanting to make this seem like a date. I pulled on the bill, craning my neck and trying to see the total amount, but Simon snatched it out of my hands.
"No can do," he said lightly. "My mother would be horrified if she knew I let a girl pay. Anyways, I'm the one that brought you here and you're helping me out by showing me where to go today."
I raised slightly off my seat, reaching for the check futilely as Simon held it under the table. "Simon," I warned. "Seriously, let me pay my half. It's not like you really need my help. It seems like you know how to get around just fine."
"Ah, ah," Simon said, grinning and shaking his finger at me. "Don't throw my chivalry back in my face. It's not ladylike." He pulled out his wallet and pulled out a few bills.
I sat back down and crossed my arms. "Who said I was a lady?" I said grumpily. At Simon's look, I sighed and gave a small laugh of surrender. "Fine. But I'll pay next time."
Simon grinned. "I'm just happy there'll be a next time. Come on." He left the money on the table and slid out of the booth, standing in front of my side and holding out his hand.
I looked up at him and gingerly placed my hand in his. Simon was just being gentlemanly as usual, I told myself. He pulled me up, not stepping back so that I was standing right against him. I held my breath, not daring to look up. The sounds of the restaurant faded away as I was acutely aware of my pounding heart and the warmth of his body. I felt Simon's hand gently tuck my hair behind my ear, grazing his knuckles against my cheek. "Caitlin," he whispered.
I jumped at the sound of his voice and pulled my hand out of his grasp, stepping away. When I finally got some distance between us, I glanced up at him. Simon looked disappointed.
I pasted on a smile, feeling a little sick to my stomach at his expression. Disappointing him hurt a lot more than I thought it would. "Practicing already for the hordes of girls tonight?" I joked lightly.
Simon pressed his lips together with displeasure, so I grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the entrance of the restaurant, trying to ignore how the warmth of his hand made me feel. "Come on," I said, striving to sound upbeat. "Your apartment isn't going to furnish itself."
Simon resisted at first and then let me pull him outside. He gave me a faint smile and swung his arm around my shoulders as we walked to his car. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked, almost to himself.
"Put me to work, of course!" I exclaimed. "I have to earn my brunch!"
Simon laughed, and we spent the drive to the home store in easy camaraderie, talking about nothing important and reinstating the relaxed atmosphere that we had been able to achieve earlier.
At the massive home store, we were able to get everything that Simon needed. It felt very domestic picking stuff out, especially since Simon deferred to my taste. He just nodded his approval at the sheets and towels I picked out. When I kept telling him it was important that he liked what I chose since he would be the one living with it, not me, he would just smile and say, "Sure."
Simon wheeled the cart to the kitchen department and asked me to pick out all the stuff he needed.
"What do you have right now?" I asked. "Do you have plates and stuff?"
"I have plates and utensils, but that's about it," Simon replied. "I used to just order out most of the time, so I didn't really need anything else."
I frowned. "Unless you're planning on taking up cooking, you probably don't need much besides maybe a pot and a pan and a few cooking utensils like a spatula."
Simon gave me a thoughtful look. "Maybe I'll take up cooking. The only thing I can make is that chili dip so it wouldn't hurt to learn," he said. "Just pick out everything you would want in a kitchen."
"Why?" I asked suspiciously. "I doubt you'll have much use for all the stuff that I would pick out if it was my kitchen."
Simon grinned. "Let's just say I have aspirations."
I narrowed my eyes. "Aspirations for what?" I asked.
"To start cooking, of course," Simon said innocently. "Why? What did you think I meant?"
I laughed and shook my head. If that's what Simon wanted, I was more than happy to oblige. I loved shopping for kitchen supplies. Walking down the aisles full of shiny gadgets excited me more than any fancy clothing store. After heaping the cart full of what I considered essentials, we turned to go to check-out when I suddenly remembered that Simon had mentioned he needed a shower curtain earlier.
"We almost forgot your shower curtain!" I exclaimed. Simon wheeled the cart over to the bathroom section, where there was a whole row of shower curtains on display. I smiled deviously to myself as I started going through the shower curtains. Simon hadn't disagreed once with any of my selections, and it was starting to make me wonder if he would just agree to anything I picked out. I decided to test it.
"What about this one?" I asked, pulling out a shower curtain with large brown puppies cavorting around with each other, their faces scrunched up in different expressions of adorableness. "It's so cute!" I cocked my head, watching him, waiting for him to retract in horror at the emasculating display before him.
Simon grinned and looked at me. "Sure, why not," he said. "Who doesn't love puppies?"
I laughed in horror. "You're kidding me!" I said in disbelief. "You can not be okay with this shower curtain."
"Why not?" Simon shrugged. "You like it, right?" He reached over and grabbed a package with the puppy shower curtain inside, throwing it in the cart.
"Simon!" I said, aghast. "You can't get that! That's not a boy shower curtain!"
Simon raised an eyebrow. "What happened to the feminist movement?" he asked with a smirk.
"But-but..." I sputtered. I threw up my hands and laughed. "Fine. But don't blame me when you regret it the first time you take a shower and you get freaked out by some big-eyed puppy staring at you."
Simon winked at me. "I'll take the chance."
After Simon paid for everything, not even blinking at the exorbitant total, we packed the trunk of his car with his purchases and drove to the supermarket which was close by.
Once inside, we wheeled the cart around the grocery store as Simon threw in an insane amount of junk food.