The line moved, and Chuck inched his truck closer to the speaker. The menu came into view—as well as pictures of juicy burgers, sizzling French fries, and frosty shakes. She realized just then that, other than her indulgences at Nan’s, she had subconsciously maintained the habits she picked up while dating Drew. Years ago, she would have known every take-out restaurant in a ten-mile radius.
Chuck ducked to catch her eyes. “Is it your kind of place, Lillian?”
Lillian’s eyes drifted back to the menu. A static-cloaked voice came through the speaker outside Chuck’s window, ready to take their order. Chuck didn’t flinch or look away. “If you want me to get you a salad or quinoa tofu medley or a kale smoothie or something, I’m more than happy to do that. But, Lillian, if you want the world’s best cheeseburger, tater tots, and caramel milkshake, I will not stand in your way. In fact, I’ll fight off any foe that would dare deny you your fair share of cheesy, greasy goodness.”
She started to giggle, but stopped short, wincing at the headache that pulsed through her skull. She reached for the window crank and opened her window a crack. The tantalizing smell of fries and burgers wafted through the open window. The speaker garbled at them again, and Chuck tilted his head at Lillian.
“Your call.”
On cue, Lillian’s stomach rumbled. Chuck cocked an eyebrow, and she grinned.
“Can you make my shake a chocolate one?”
“Can I make your shake a—” Chuck slapped the steering wheel in delight before he shouted into the speaker. “The lady will have a chocolate shake, a cheeseburger—”
“Petite cheeseburger!”
Chuck shook his head, lips pulling to one side, “Make that a petite cheeseburger and a large order of tots, please. I’ll take the finger steak basket with fries, and a caramel shake.”
Lillian protested when Chuck pulled out his wallet, but he waved her away. Uncomfortable, Lillian rubbed her arms. “Finger steaks? I thought you said they have amazing cheeseburgers.”
Chuck nodded. “They do. In fact, everything here is incredible. I work my way down the menu, and this time around, I’m on finger steaks.”
“This time around?” Lillian looked past Chuck. Finger steaks was in the middle of the extensive menu on the large board. He had to have gone through at least two dozen meals to get to that particular choice. Her mouth dropped open. “How often do you eat here?”
“I plead the fifth on that one.”
Chuck pulled forward to the window. A young woman with cotton candy colored streaks of pink and blue in her hair, greeted them with a bright smile. Chuck paid and passed Lillian two paper bags. Her stomach cramped with hunger, and she reached in the bag for a piping hot tater tot. She blew on it while Chuck thanked the girl and directed his truck toward their apartment building. At last it cooled, and she took a bite.
Chuck watched her expectantly—eyes toggling from her to the road and back to her again. “And?”
Lillian closed her eyes, relishing the savory flavoring on the crispy tot. “Heaven, Chuck. This is heaven.”
She ate five more before remembering her milkshake. She took a hearty sip, glancing around the interior of the truck. It reminded her of something one of her mom’s boyfriends had driven when she was five. Right down to the luring rumble of the engine and the rips in the bench seat.
“I haven’t seen a truck like this in ages.”
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, but Chuck kept his eyes on the road. “It was my dad’s. He gave it to me when I graduated high school.”
Lillian leaned against the window and continued to enjoy her milkshake. Chuck drove up the ramp to their garage and parked his truck. Carefully, he helped her down, through the lobby, and into the elevator. Once in her studio, he helped Lillian settle onto the couch. She folded one leg underneath the other, leaving plenty of room for him at the other end. Their bags from the drive-in sat on the middle cushion of the couch. He located a bottle of water in her fridge and set it on the hope chest with her aspirin, then sat back on the opposite end of the couch.
When Chuck tried to prop his feet on the makeshift coffee table, only to have it roll away from him, Lillian giggled at his surprise. “It has rollers so that I can move it out of the way for my bed each night.”
Chuck glanced down at the couch, as if he could see the hide-a-bed with x-ray vision. “Gotcha. Smart. I should have asked before I just plopped my feet up on your furniture, anyway.”
Lillian leaned down and locked the wheels closest to her, then pointed to the other side. “They lock. I put my feet up all the time.”
Chuck locked his side, then stretched out his legs with a big sigh. “Thank you. I’ve had a very long day.”
Lillian laughed at his upturned nose.
Chuck’s grin confirmed that he was pleased with himself. His voice was soft when he asked, “Do you mind if I pray for our meal?”
Lillian bowed her head, touched when Chuck prayed for a quick recovery for her, and again when he thanked the Lord for keeping her and the other drivers safe. After the “amen,” they both dug into their meals. Chuck offered Lillian a finger steak, but she shook her head. “No, thanks. This burger is amazing. I don’t want to waste stomach room on anything else.”
They finished lunch, making light conversation, Lillian growing more comfortable with this virtual stranger with each passing moment.
Chuck wiped his mouth with a napkin before gathering their garbage and taking it to the garbage can under the sink. Back on the couch, he propped his elbow on the back and turned to give her his full attention. “How are you, Lillian? Really?”
She squirmed under his scrutiny, resting her feet on the hope chest and tucking a throw she’d retrieved from the back of the couch under her arms. “I’m okay, I guess.” She dropped her gaze to where she twisted her hands together in her lap.
Chuck nudged her bare foot with the toe of his shoe. “Try again.”
A big sigh proceeded the outpour. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m shaken up. That was terrifying. I was on the phone with Viv, receiving good news and bad news, trying to process what I should do. Suddenly there was this awful screech, then the crunch. I looked up and saw that the woman in front of me was a mom with little kids in the back of her car and felt sick. It took me a minute to realize that I had been hit, too, and that it wasn’t my fault. Now, all I can think about is how that guy must feel. Is he a habitual drunk driver? Will this make him stop? Was he just having a really bad day and went too far? I can’t help but feel guilty about how selfish I am for worrying about being offered a job that pays less money than I was hoping for when this guy’s day is exceptionally worse than mine.”
A flicker of emotion passed over Chuck’s face, darkening his storm-cloud eyes. The silence stretched between them and Lillian reprimanded herself. Sheesh, Lillian, you don’t even know this guy. You’re taking up his day, and on top of that, you’re just dumping on him.
He ducked his chin to catch her gaze. “I think it says a lot about you that you care about what he’s going through.
She lifted a shoulder and dropped it, self-conscious. He obviously didn’t know much about her past—and why would he? Maybe she could keep it that way. Let him think she was just a nice, caring woman.
“You said something earlier about being offered a job. Was that the management position here?”
Lillian took a deep breath, growing tired. “Yes. Viv called today—right before the accident, or during it, I guess—and said that although the owners will most likely give me a raise in the future, for now they are going to pay me quite a bit less than the amount I planned on. It wouldn’t be a problem except I have to find my own health insurance. And that’s not cheap; I’m not sure I can afford it on the income they offered.”
Chuck remained silent, but Lillian could tell he wanted to voice his opinion. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” It was her turn to push her bare toes against his shoe.
Chuck placed the other foot on the gro
und and let his leg bounce up and down. “Lillian, it might not be my business, and I’m not sure it’s great advice, but all I can think is, ‘A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.’ If you’ve had a hard time finding work, and they’re offering you this job—a job that would give you free rent and let you start immediately—then maybe it’s something you should go for. Maybe another opportunity aside from the bakery will come up. It’s not impossible.”
Lillian, wanting to be hopeful, was still skeptical. “But what if that doesn’t work? What if nothing else comes up?”
“Well, Lillian, this is more than you’ve got now. And what if you’re right and nothing comes up? Then you’ll be without an apartment on top of it all.”
“True,” she conceded, narrowing her eyes in thought.
“I know you said you’ve gone over your budget; is there anything else you could cut?”
Lillian shook her head. “Not really. I pared the extras down by quite a bit, and I still have school loans eating up a healthy percent of my income. I was starting to think I could sell my car and just walk everywhere, but”–she rolled her eyes—“I doubt that’s an option now.”
Chuck sat up. “Lillian, that’s it!”
She snorted. “Right. And what would the ad say? ‘Slightly used, lovingly banged up Ford Focus for sale. New model—used to be four-door, but now a sporty two-seater.’”
Chuck slanted a long-suffering gaze in her direction. “No, of course not. Didn’t you say you used to work for an insurance company?”
A spark of realization fizzed through the fog. “Yes, I worked for an insurance company. And I have fantastic car insurance.”
“Well, then there you go,” he pronounced and folded his hands behind his head as if her problems were solved.
“It’s not that simple.” She shifted on the couch. “That guy hit me, so it really depends on how good his insurance is.” She pursed her lips, thinking. “I wonder…” she glanced around the apartment. “Did you see where I put the copy of that report from the police officer?”
Chuck located her purse and held it out to her as far from himself as he could manage, one finger barely hooked through the strap.
“Not comfortable with purses, I see,” Lillian murmured, taking the clearly offensive object from him.
She found the folded ticket and ran her finger down the words until she located the information for the man who hit her. John Buchanan. Her eyes skimmed over his phone number to what she was looking for. Insurance: Treasure Valley Insurance Associates. Bingo.
“He’s insured by the same company I am. You’re right—in some strange way I think this is a good thing. At the very least, I can have my car paid off and just walk everywhere until I get a raise or save up for another car.”
A slow grin worked Chuck’s lips into that charming smile, “So you’ll take the job?”
A thrill of excitement jolted through her, “Yes, I think I will.”
“Alright!” Chuck thrust both fists in the air triumphant, his enthusiasm warming her.
“Why are you so excited?” she laughed.
Both of his fists were brought down and quickly tucked under his armpits. “I just love seeing things work out for people, that’s all.” A shrug.
The silence stretched between them until Chuck cleared his throat, “You should call Viv. She’ll be thrilled.”
He was right. Viv shouted much like Chuck had and promised to get everything in order. “We can start training on the light stuff over the next few days. We’ll finalize everything as soon as you feel better.”
Lillian hung up feeling incredibly light…especially, for a person that was just in a car wreck.
“Now,” Chuck strode to the television in the corner and whistled low, “I was going to ask what the patient wanted to watch, but that was before I saw your stack of chick-flicks here.” He chose a movie box at random and read the description on the back. Lillian laughed at his sour face. He chose another. “What’s this one about?”
“Based on a true story about Women’s Suffrage and how—through protests, imprisonment, and hunger strikes—among other things—they finally won the right to vote.”
“Yikes,” Chuck whispered.
“Hey!” the word road on a surprised laugh.
Chuck’s eyes widened, “No, no, no! I’m all for women voting, trust me. I just don’t…well, a movie about it just doesn’t sound…” he faltered, seeing the hole was just getting deeper. He forced a grin and held up the movie. “Would you like to watch this one, Lillian?”
She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, feigning consideration. Finally, she smiled and winked at him, “No, I only watch that one the night before I vote on something. Gives me goosebumps and makes me blubber like a crazy woman when they give me my sticker and say, ‘Lillian Rodgers has voted.’”
Chuck’s eyes softened, and he held her gaze for a moment. Lillian blushed and tucked her chin, relieved when he continued rifling through the stack, his frown deepening.
Lillian watched him for a few minutes, her eyelids droopy, relishing his agony. What torture it must be for the man without a T.V. to contemplate spending his afternoon in front of an estrogen laced movie overload. Lillian let him suffer a moment longer before she stretched and pointed to the bookshelf.
“There are more movies down there,” she yawned.
Chuck flinched, no doubt spotting her array of musicals, Jimmy Stewart films, or worse—her Molly Ringwald collection. “To the left,” Lillian instructed, closing her eyes.
“No way, you have Goonies? I haven’t seen that movie in forever. Star Wars? You have Star Wars?”
Lillian smiled to herself. What was it with guys and Star Wars? There was a sharp crack as he opened the case, then the couch cushions shifted beneath his weight near her feet. The film score rang out, and Lillian finally drifted to sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
She’s resting now, Chuck texted Viv.
Viv responded within two minutes.Thanks for letting me know. Can I bring you anything? Lunch?
We just had Westside. I’m just hanging out, getting paid to watch Star Wars ;) I’ll let you know if I need anything.
Sounds good. She’s lucky to have a friend like you. I get the feeling she doesn’t have many friends she can depend on.
Chuck looked past the arm he’d draped across the back of her couch and gave his charge a once over. The blanket was tucked up under her chin, and it rose and fell with each deep breath she took. Her face was make-up free—fresh and beautiful. Chuck remembered that under the blanket she wore faded blue jean capris and a lemon-yellow V-neck t-shirt. Brown ballet slippers lay askew on the floor where Lillian had kicked them off. One of her bare toes poked out from beneath the blanket, close enough to pinch. Chuck tingled with attraction and a strange, almost fierce, protectiveness. He quickly looked away, trying to immerse himself in the movie. Within minutes his eyes wandered again, this time to take in the apartment.
The small studio had just enough room for the couch, a T.V., bookshelf, and side table. He eyed the couch and imagined that once she pulled out the bed the room was a tight squeeze. There was just enough room to roll the hope chest against the wall each night to make room for the bed. A short hallway next to the couch sported a narrow closet, sink, and mirror. Chuck knew that the closed door beyond the sink contained a very narrow shower and toilet. The small, square kitchen sat open to the living room, a standard fridge closest to the door, one small counter, old stove, and no dishwasher. Chuck hadn’t paid much attention to his surroundings when he’d been in this apartment to fix the fridge; it was like all of the other studios in the Idaho Building.
Chuck found himself curious, hoping to learn more about Lillian by her home. But other than her movies, Lillian’s belongings appeared to be packed in boxes piled in front of the bookshelf. Every shelf was empty except for the bottom three, which were crammed full of movies. The woman sure enjoyed her movies. He remembered that she had compared him to an act
or when they first met. Now curiosity plagued him. Who was that actor again? Was it a compliment that she saw a resemblance?
Chuck slid his back against the arm of the couch and faced Lillian, fully drinking in the sight of her. Faint lines on her forehead crinkled with worry, even at rest.
When Chuck had arrived at Viv’s apartment with a work order, Viv was on the phone and heard the crash. When Viv told him what had happened, his heart had thundered much too hard for a woman he barely knew. Viv had barely gotten out the location before Chuck was out the door.
Friend? No, not yet. He didn’t even know her. But, oh, how he wanted to.
His phone signaled another text, and Lillian shifted under the blanket. Chuck flinched and held still. Lillian sighed soft and sweet, doing strange things to Chuck’s heart. He shook it off and read the text from Viv.
Tenant in 209 has a backed-up disposal. Be there in a few to relieve you. Oh, and I have an idea to run by you when I get there.
Chuck worked to shake off his disappointment. He looked at Lillian again. A lock from her bangs had fallen over her eyes. His fingers itched to brush it back, to test if her hair was as soft as it looked. But he didn’t know this woman, had no right to touch her. He sent a response to Viv and jumped up from the couch, running one hand over his face in frustration.
Come to think of it, the sooner I get out of here the better.
***
Lillian stretched. The soft blanket slipped from the movement and crumpled to the floor. The wall across from her was bathed in muted butterscotch yellow. The water bottle and aspirin still sat on the hope chest. A dull ache radiated through her forehead and back down her neck and shoulders. Lillian slowly lowered her feet to the hard floor and raised herself up gingerly. The toilet flushed, startling her. She ran her fingers under her eyes, checking for mascara smears, and combed her fingers through her hair. I must be a mess.
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