by Vivian Wood
“So, why don’t you go?” he asked. “I mean now, especially. What’s keeping you here?”
“You’ve seen my sister,” Addy said with a laugh. “Would you leave her in charge of everything? Anything?”
Jack thought about it. “She’s not so bad. She’s a kid. I mean, think about it. You could be… I dunno, hiking the Himalayas! Something.”
Addy shot him a look. “Do you know it costs over sixty thousand to climb Mount Everest? And that’s just to try, there’s no guarantee you’ll make it to the top. You grew up with money, didn’t you?”
“I, uh, I guess so. Why?”
“Because sixty thousand is a lot of money. Just walking away from everything to spend weeks ‘finding yourself’ or whatever costs a lot of money. And if you don’t have it… well, you get used to looking at the scenery around you. And you keep your head down. If you’re from my family, you thank your lucky stars that you made it to twenty-three. I knew, growing up, that life was a precious commodity—”
“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Let’s change the subject. Tell me something you like.”
“Something I like?”
“Yeah, anything.”
“Strawberry ice cream.”
“Quite the discerning palate. But I agree.”
“You tell me something you like.”
“Base jumping and deep-sea diving.”
“Very frugal choices.”
“Hey, I don’t judge you, you don’t judge me. Your turn.”
“Photography,” she said, without pause.
“Looking at photographs or taking them?”
“Both. Your turn.”
“Race cars.”
“Watching them, or owning them and racing them?”
“Both,” he said a bit sheepishly. “Your turn. One more.”
“Art,” she said, and gazed into the distance.
“That doesn’t count. Photography is art.”
“I’m glad you think so,” she said with a small smile.
“You should really go to Rome and Paris. And Barcelona! And Medellín, the Botero statues around the city are amazing—”
“Your privilege is showing,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Maybe we’ll go there together.”
Addy sat up, stiff. “Let’s not … like, make plans and stuff. This isn’t real, remember?”
“What? If we’re faking a marriage, we can fake a honeymoon? It’s no big deal. I’d go anyway, and I’d enjoy the company—”
Addy stood up and picked up the discarded napkins and dirty plates.
“I’ll take those,” he said. Jack grabbed the plates and dumped them in the trash.
“What are you doing!?”
“We’ll buy new ones,” he said with a shrug.
“That’s wasteful. And arrogant,” she said with a scowl.
“Sorry. So, what do you want to do? I can stream Netflix on—”
“Actually, I’m tired. I think I’ll just go to bed.”
“Bed? But it’s just ten o’clock!”
“Some of us have the opening shift.”
She disappeared into the bedroom with a solid click of the door.
Damn. Are all women this touchy?
Chapter Six
Addy groaned as she kicked off her scuffed black Dansko clogs in the small employees’ room tucked behind the kitchen. Even the slow season in Tahoe tested her with each shift.
For the past eight hours she’d been on her feet as she rushed from table to table or expertly folded cloth napkins around flatware.
She pulled the tips out of her pockets and apron. Addy had been scheduled for the past ten days straight, not counting the day she’d called off with the hangover to end all hangovers.
Thank God the two new girls I hired will be starting soon, she thought.
“Hey!” Her sister stood in the doorway, fresh-faced and ready to take over the transition from lunch shift to happy hour. “Have you seen Dawn?”
“Yeah,” Addy said with a sigh. “I think she went on a dumpster run a few minutes ago. Wasn’t that supposed to be your job, Kenzie?”
Her sister wrinkled her nose.
“Sorry, I was running late,” she said. “I had to stop for coffee, you know. Can’t exactly work the night shift uncaffeinated.”
Kenzie held up her staple six-dollar coffee.
“We have coffee here, you know. For free. Have you counted the tills again? Make sure all the menus are switched to dinner, too. And don’t forget about the—”
MacKenzie rolled her eyes and turned away.
“Yeah, I’ll get to it! Geez, just go home already. All these morning shifts are making you cranky.”
“Kenzie!” Addy called to her sister’s retreating back.
She jumped up to go after her and heard the clang of change fall to the floor.
“Damn,” she whispered under her breath, but shoved her aching feet back into the shoes. She called out again as she bolted down the hall to catch her sister. “Kenzie!”
“What?” Kenzie asked, annoyed. “It’s just a restaurant. It’s not like it’s brain surgery or something.”
“You know why this is so important! And it’s not ‘just’ a restaurant. It’s Dad’s restaurant. Mom and Dad’s restaurant…”
Kenzie sighed and put down the coffee.
“I know that,” she said slowly. “You think I forgot? And it’s not like it’s the first time you’ve reminded me.”
Addy crossed her arms.
“Do I think you forgot? Maybe. You forgot three times last week about some pretty basic opening and transition tasks. Luckily for you it isn’t brain surgery.”
“Addison Marie Fuller,” Kenzie said as she cocked her head sideways. “Are you saying you don’t think I’m smart enough to be a brain surgeon?”
“I just don’t know why you have to make everything a struggle for me,” Addy grumbled.
Kenzie leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, just like their mom used to do.
“You worry too much,” Kenzie said. “It’s not good for you. Premature wrinkles.”
She flashed Addy that golden smile that worked on everyone else before she shot out the saloon doors toward the front of the house.
“You forgot to count the tills again,” Addy said quietly.
They were still stacked neatly with Addy’s precise handwriting on the point of sale tape rolls. She drew in a deep breath and began counting them again herself.
There’s no way Dawn can do it, she thought.
Addy and Kenzie had learned quickly that while Dawn could charm her way into making the most tips out of any of them, she was useless when it came to math.
“Oh my God! Addy! Hey!” Kenzie stuck her head into the back.
“What is it now?” Addy asked. “Seriously, I’m not going to help you with—”
“Shh!” Kenzie said in a stage whisper. “Jeremy just came in.”
“Jeremy?”
“Don’t look,” Kenzie said.
“Don’t look? Why would you come back here to tell me he’s here if you don’t want me to look!”
“I just wanted to let you know. In case, you know, you wanted to go out the back…”
“Why would I sneak out the back like I’m the one who did something wrong?” Addy asked.
She was suddenly aware that she must look like hell and smell like a fryer. She hated herself for it, but she instinctually reached up to gauge how messy her ponytail was.
“Well…” Kenzie shifted from side to side and glanced over her shoulder.
“Kenzie, what is it? Do I really look that bad?”
“It’s just that, you know, he’s not alone.”
Addy looked at her sister, scrunching her face up. “What do you mean?”
“He’s got someone with him,” Kenzie said to the floor.
“You must mean Shannon.” She reached for a stack of cups that were put away haphazardly, and righted them. “I know about them
already.”
“I’m sorry.” Kenzie said. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just that I saw him—with her—and I didn’t want you to—”
“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” Addy said. “Coming in here like this, with her…”
“What a dick move,” Kenzie said. The little sister in her came out strong, ready to go to battle for Addison. “He’s an asshole.”
“Yeah, well. She’s not much better,” Addy said.
It had been five years since she’d graduated high school, but seeing Shannon in person after all those years instantly took her back to being eighteen. She’d had classes with Shannon since they were in sixth grade.
They’d never been friends, but sometime around their junior year of high school Shannon had decided Addy was a target. She could still remember the taunts that trailed after her down the hallways.
“He looks bad,” Kenzie said. “I think he’s going prematurely bald.”
“His hair’s buzzed, Kenzie,” Addy said.
She hated herself instantly for sticking up for him. Especially after how they’d broken up.
They’d dated for a year, and for the past couple of months Addy had thought they’d simply transitioned to the more complacent stage of their relationship.
The honeymoon stage hadn’t been the kind of fireworks she’d always heard about, but Jeremy had been two years ahead of both her and Shannon in high school.
Quarterback of the football team, he’d been his class’ homecoming king every year and of course prom king by the time he was a senior. She still remembered the surprising weight of the crown when he’d let her try it on six months ago.
Now, Jeremy was climbing the ranks as a salesman at one of the highest-end jewelry stores in town. Unfortunately, that meant that he had less and less time for her. When she’d eventually worked up the courage to confront him about his neglect of her, he just shrugged.
“So what, you want to break up?” he said.
Like it meant nothing to him. Like she meant nothing to him.
She’d left his apartment in tears that night, and it was only a few days later that she had first spotted him slinking around with Shannon. He probably didn’t even pick Shannon to bother Addy, he just didn’t care about Addy at all.
Kenzie elbowed her in the ribs.
“I’m gonna go kick them out,” she said. “I can’t believe he had the nerve to come in here—”
Addy grabbed her arm.
“No, let them stay,” she said.
Kenzie searched her eyes.
“Fine,” she said finally. “But I’m not waiting on them.”
Side by side, they peered across the doors. Shannon let out a laugh, and her long platinum hair fell down her back. Addy sighed.
Jeremy had always been the cool guy in high school, somehow able to strike that balance between bad boy and popular guy. Even now, he was still really handsome. The buzzed dirty blond hair highlighted his sharp features and square jawline.
But Kenzie is right, she thought to herself. His hair is starting to thin. That’s really why he buzzes it.
She shook her head and forced the mean side of her away. There was no denying that she was still in love with him.
Let’s be honest, she told herself. Jeremy barely paid you any attention the past few years. Maybe I am kind of pathetic, but how did I know any different? He was the first cool guy I’d ever dated.
The others, not that there had been a lot, were nonthreatening and good guys, but there was no fire.
Not that you can expect much from someone who works in a video game store, she thought. Or an entry-level software developer.
With Kenzie pressed against her side, they watched Dawn sashay through the dining room and troll for tips. Dawn was thirty-five and married, complete with an oversized rock on her finger, but that didn’t stop her flirtations. She let out a whistle worthy of a construction worker when two young guys came in and walked up to the bar.
Addy pulled off her apron and started back down the hallway. She grabbed the restaurant’s books to take home.
It’s about time to get a handle on them, she thought. And no way in hell I’m going out the back like some kind of criminal.
She started to make a mental to-do list as she pushed through the saloon doors and wove through the dining room.
Compare price sheets requested from the vendors. Make next week’s schedule. Compose that reply to OSHA’s letter.
“Addison! I’m glad to have caught you.” Addy turned around, her arms full. Shannon walked toward her.
“You are? Can I… can I help you with something?”
She could have kicked herself for asking, but they were still on restaurant property. She was still basically the acting manager.
“I just wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me?”
“Well, yeah.” Shannon pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Jeremy and I, we’re really happy. And I have you to thank for that.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“He told me everything. About, you know, your relationship,” she said, and dropped her voice low. “He’s a good guy, and I know he was trying to do you a favor dating you. Giving you an ego boost and all that.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, don’t take it like that. But thank you for not begging him to stay with you a little longer. You know he would have. That was really big of you, to be all adult about things. I mean, we both know he deserved better. And I’m just glad I was there when he was ready to stop being so charitable.”
“Get out of my restaurant,” Addy said. Her voice shook and tears stung at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
“What? Hey, I’m being nice here!”
“Get the fuck out of my restaurant!” Addy yelled. The silence around them was palpable. She could feel all the eyes in the restaurant on her. She heard a utensil fall to the floor.
“Pathetic,” Shannon said with a smile.
Addy turned around, covered in shame, and ran to the front door with the heavy books in her arms.
“Hey! You okay?” She nearly slammed into Jack as she barreled through the front doors.
“No,” she whimpered. “I just… can you please take me somewhere else?”
“Of course,” he said. “Come on. My car is right over here.”
She followed him to his car, still ashamed.
Chapter Seven
Jack slid his gaze over to Addy. He was concerned about her. She seemed oblivious to his gaze though, leaning on the window to press her face against the glass. Her face was tear-stained, although she had stopped crying.
“Hey,” he said. “Where is the biggest, messiest sandwich in town?”
“Hmm? Oh. I don’t know. Maybe Boudreaux’s? The have New Orleans-style poboys.”
She sniffed, still moody. At least she’d answered his question. He wanted to ask what she was so upset about, but he held his tongue. Maybe later, when she had calmed down.
“Where do I go?” he asked.
“It’s on Main Street, next to the post office,” she murmured. She went back to looking out the window.
He drove to the restaurant, parking nearby. Boudreaux’s proved to be a tiny hole in the wall, all done in rough pine wood. Addy followed him in, obviously still wrapped up in her own thoughts.
It was a order at the front kind of place, so he looked at the menu hanging over the register. After a minute, he ordered a roast beef poboy and some fries. With some encouragement, she ordered a corneal-dusted oyster poboy.
Jack led the way to a table, and they settled in. She didn’t seem to be in the mood for talking, so he busied himself by tearing some paper towels off the roll sitting on the table and folding them into cranes.
“A bird?” she asked curiously when he placed the first one before her.
“A crane,” he said, sticking his tongue out as he tried to execute a particularly neat fold.
“Where did you learn origami?”
He peeked at her, and saw that she was watching him avidly, eyes curious. He suppressed a smile. He’d used origami to impress women before, but never to charm them out of a bad mood.
“My father taught me,” he said. “He was a surgeon, so he studied origami as a way to hone his physical dexterity. He always had some kind of paper creation in his pockets.”
“That sounds fun.”
“It was. He would come home from a long shift at the hospital, and empty his pockets. He’d have folded cranes and frogs and flowers, and I would play with them. It’s one of the things I missed most after he died.”
She bit her lip, but the look of curiosity was still clear on her face. A server brought over their food, and they were quiet for a minute while they tasted everything. Addy snagged one of Jack’s fries, offering a quick smile when he raised a brow.
He took a big bite of his sandwich, managing to get roast beef and lettuce everywhere. Addy laughed, and tore off another paper towel to offer him.
“Thanks,” he said, wiping his mouth. “You weren’t kidding about the level of messiness. God, this is good though.”
“I never joke about food.” She punctuated her remark by taking a huge bite of her sandwich, and sighing with pleasure as she chewed. “They really know how to make a sandwich here.”
“There’s something about watching a hot woman manhandle a sandwich the size of her head…” he teased.
“You’re just jealous that you didn’t get the oysters.” She smirked.
“So you want to know about my father’s death, right?” he ventured.
She made a considering face, and nodded. “I don’t want to bum you out. But yeah, I do.”
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you about him, if you will tell me why you left your restaurant crying earlier.”
She pulled a face but nodded. “That’s fair.”
“Okay,” he said, after taking another bite. “So my dad died of Huntington’s disease when I was thirteen.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yup. My parents were already married when they found out that my father had it. It’s inherited, obviously. From what I gather, my paternal grandfather probably had it too, but he died in a car accident when my father was a baby.”