The Waiter

by Bradleigh Collins

  “Really, Dalton?”

  “It’s not what you think,” he said immediately.

  “Oh, it’s exactly what I think. It’s exactly what I thought months ago when you lied to me about falling asleep at Rhonda’s. Oh, wait. That wasn’t a lie. You probably did fall asleep, because you always fall asleep after sex.”

  “I didn’t fuck her, Sam.”

  “Really? She’s going on in that chat about how she can’t wait for you do all the things you do so well to her. Fuck her! Fuck you too!”

  “Okay, do you want to be the pot or the kettle here Sam?” His face had gone from pale white to fire-engine red.

  “We weren’t together when I had sex with somebody else! You fucked her right after my dad died. You knew what I was going through and you did it anyway! What kind of a sick person does that?”

  “You need to shut the fuck up,” he said.

  “And all this time you’ve been punishing me and making me feel guilty about having feelings for someone else when you’ve been cheating on me all along!”

  “Oh, so now you’re admitting you’ve got feelings for this douche?”

  “Yes, Dalton. After all these years, I actually have feelings for someone that isn’t you.”

  He came towards me, and for a split second, I thought he was going to hit me. But he didn’t. He just stopped and looked at me.

  “I want you out,” he said, in a vile voice.

  “Fine,” I replied. I went into the bedroom and locked the door. I grabbed my phone and called Josh. I told him what just happened.

  “Come over here. You can stay at my place as long as you need.”

  “Thank you so much Josh.”

  “Do you want me to come get you?”

  “No, I have to get my stuff together and then I’ll get a cab. I’m not sure what time I’ll be there.”

  “Okay, I’ll be here. Call me if you need me though.”

  “I will.” I hung up the phone.

  I started throwing all of my clothes and shoes into the large duffle bag I’d packed when we moved to New York. I was amazingly calm. I think I was relieved. I’d been agonizing the last week over whether to get my own place, and Dalton had just made the decision for me. Of course, I wasn’t expecting to be thrown out on the street. But I didn’t care. I just wanted out.

  I finished packing my clothes and went into the bathroom. I began gathering up all of my makeup and toiletries and loading them into my Scoop bag. When I closed the medicine cabinet door, I didn’t recognize the person I saw looking back at me in the mirror. I felt sorry for her. Sorry that she had wasted so many years of her life believing every lie and ignoring every act of cruelty. I had been trying so hard to hold on to something that wasn’t even there because I was afraid of being alone. I decided right then and there that I would rather be alone for the rest of my life than to be Dalton’s emotional punching bag for another second.

  I went back to the bedroom and grabbed my duffle bag and backpack. Dalton was sitting on the couch in the living room staring at the television.

  “This is the last time I’m leaving you, Dalton,” I said as I headed for the door. He got up and stepped in front of me.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he said. “Stop being so fucking dramatic.” He tore the duffle bag away from me and threw it on the floor. He put his arms around me. I stiffened.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said. You just make me so angry sometimes. You make me say things I don’t mean.”

  “I don’t make you do anything, Dalton. Let go of me.” I tried to move away from him. He put his hand against the door.

  “Stop,” he said. “Sit.” He pointed to the couch. I knew he wasn’t going to let me leave, so I went and sat down.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to leave. We’ll talk about this later. I’m mad. You’re mad. Let’s just go to bed. I’ll even sleep on the couch.”

  “Fine.” I went to the bedroom and threw the comforter and a pillow out onto the couch. I left the door open, but I turned out the light. I sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding my backpack and Scoop tote. Then I waited.

  When I heard him snoring about an hour later, it was time to go. I tiptoed into the living room and slowly turned the locks, making as little noise as possible. My heart was racing. I opened the door with the same slow and quiet intensity. I picked up the duffle bag and left, quietly closing the door behind me. I snuck down the stairs and out onto the street. The air was chilly, but the sense of relief I felt when my feet hit the sidewalk was as though I’d been cured of cancer. And, in a way, I was. I turned and looked up at the third-floor window. He wanted me out. I was out. I was done. And this time, I actually meant it.

  I turned around and walked up to Third Avenue. A cab stopped immediately.

  “Upper West Side please,” I said as I shoved all of my bags into the back seat and closed the door. “Riverside and Tiemann Place.”

  The cab sped up Third Avenue. If I never laid eyes on the Upper East Side again, it would be too soon.

  “I thought you might be headed to the airport with all those bags,” the driver said. “Thought you might be leaving town.”

  I smiled at his kind reflection in the rear-view mirror. “No. Definitely not leaving. Just switching sides.”

  CHAPTER 21

  ◆◆◆

  I arrived at Josh’s apartment around eleven. When he opened the door, he immediately took my bags and set them down. Then he gave me a really long hug.

  “I’m so sorry cuz,” he said. “Are you okay?” He handed me a glass of wine.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “What the hell happened?”

  “He was cheating on me, Josh. He’s probably been cheating on me for years.”

  “With who?”

  “Rhonda! And I knew it! I knew what happened that night. I knew he was lying, and yet I still took him back. I’m so fucking stupid.”

  “He’s the stupid one, Sam. I wanna kill him.”

  “Okay,” I said. We both started laughing.

  “So, what are you gonna do?”

  “Well, first, I have to find an apartment. Any chance there’s an opening here in your building?”

  “Actually,” he said. “There is.”

  “Are you kidding? Please say you’re not kidding.”

  “No. I’m not. This apartment is available.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m moving in with Katie. You can have my apartment.”

  “Oh my god! Josh! Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. We’ve been talking about it for a while. I’m crazy about her, Sam.”

  “I’m crazy about her too! I love her! I love you and her together!”

  “I’ve been spending practically every night over there, anyway. Her apartment is a lot bigger than mine. Plus, we’ll both save a ton of money.”

  “Josh, this is huge! I’m so happy for you guys!”

  “Well, if it weren’t for you, we might not be together. So consider the apartment payback.”

  “I can really just move in here? Do I need to talk to your landlord?”

  “No, you can just sublease from me. It’s eleven-hundred a month. Rent-stabilized.”

  “Josh, I will never be able to thank you enough for this. You just made my life.”

  “You can help me move,” he said.

  “Absolutely! And to think, just a few minutes ago I was homeless.”

  “Well, not to get all Zen on you or anything, but everything happens for a reason. The other night Katie was saying that you needed to get your own place, and I was like, ‘she can have mine!’ I just didn’t realize you’d be needing it so soon.”

  “Yeah, me either.”

  We finished off the bottle of wine and then he went to bed. He promised to wake me up in the morning after he got out of the shower so I could get ready for work. I plugged my phone into the charger and turned it off. I knew when Dalton woke up it would start ringing and I
had no intention of answering. Then I snuggled up under a blanket on the couch and looked around the room. This is my apartment.

  The next morning I enjoyed a completely different commute. I took the 1 train, which is only a half-block from my new apartment. It was just nine stops from 125th Street to the 59th Street station. A lot faster than my east-side commute.

  I got to work really early, so I made myself a cappuccino and called Dana. She and Simon were flying up tomorrow, and I needed to tell her what happened. I sat down at my desk and took my phone out. I turned it on to find several messages from Dalton, which I promptly deleted without listening to. Then I dialed Dana.

  “So, I’ve got good news and bad news,” I said when she picked up. “Which do you want to hear first?”

  “Oh god, give me the bad news.”

  “I broke up with Dalton last night.”

  “That’s good news,” she responded. “What happened?”

  “He kicked me out of the apartment.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I found out he was cheating on me.”

  “No way! With who?”

  “Fucking Rhonda. Literally, he was fucking Rhonda.”

  “Oh, Sam. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Where are you?”

  “I’m at work. I went to Josh’s last night. Here’s the good news. Josh is moving in with Katie and he gave me his apartment.”

  “Oh my god! That’s perfect! So you’re done. You’re really done with Dalton this time?”

  “Beyond done. We’ll celebrate tomorrow. Call me when you get to the hotel and I’ll come meet you guys.”

  “Can’t wait. I’m so proud of you, Sam.”

  I turned off my phone and put it back in my bag. Then I heard George arrive. I went over to his desk and told him what was going on. I asked if I could forward my phone to him because I knew Dalton would be calling. He seemed to relish the responsibility.

  “Nobody fucks with Ginger Spice today,” he said, causing me to laugh out loud. “You don’t seem that upset.”

  “Actually, I’m not. It’s something I should have done a long time ago.”

  He got up and hugged me. “You can tell me all about it at happy hour tonight.”

  I threw myself into my latest article, which was about what to wear for Thanksgiving. One of our in-house stylists was helping me to put together looks for various scenarios: traveling home for Thanksgiving, spending Thanksgiving at the beach, spending Thanksgiving on the slopes, and attending the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Macy’s was sponsoring the article, so they had sent over tons of clothes and accessories they wanted featured.

  I couldn’t help but think about the fact that this would be the first time I wouldn’t be traveling home for Thanksgiving. I’d tried to get my family to come up for the parade, but I got the same response from my mom and sisters: “too cold.”

  Later, as George and I were heading out for happy hour, the decorators for the Halloween party were coming in.

  “I hope your costume survived being tossed out onto the street last night,” George joked. “We are going to be the best Spice Girls ever.”

  “It survived. Just like I survived.”

  That prompted George to sing Gloria Gaynor as we exited the elevator. He was still singing and I was laughing hysterically when we walked out of the building. Suddenly, someone grabbed me violently by the arm. It was Dalton.

  “We need to talk.” His grip on my arm was tight, like a blood pressure cuff right before release.

  “Let go of me, Dalton. You’re hurting me.”

  “Yeah, let go of her Tarzan!” George yelled loudly.

  His grip tightened as he pulled me into the courtyard next to the building. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he said as he shoved me up against the metal handrail. I’d never seen him so mad, and for the first time in my life, I was afraid of him. “You think you can just sneak out and leave me in the middle of the night? What the fuck, Sam?”

  By now I was terrified. And I was crying. “Dalton, please let go of me.”

  “You ran straight to him, didn’t you?”

  “No!” I could no longer feel any circulation in my arm, and I was starting to hyperventilate. Then George came around the side of the building with Jackie, cell phone in hand.

  “Hey, jackass! Take your hands off of her,” she demanded.

  “This is none of your business,” Dalton yelled back without even looking at her.

  “Sam works for me. And this is my building, so yeah, it kind of is my business. And if you don’t let go of her, I’m going to call my brother, who happens to be NYPD.”

  Dalton let go of me. I stood there frozen. My arm was completely numb.

  “This isn’t over, Sam,” he said. And then walked away. I was shaking. I sat down on the steps and continued crying. George kneeled in front of me and Jackie sat next to me.

  “Are you okay?” George asked. I nodded.

  “Who the hell was that?” Jackie asked.

  I was so embarrassed. I didn’t want to admit that Dalton was my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. I didn’t want her to think less of me. But I wasn’t about to lie to my boss.

  “My ex. I’m so sorry, Jackie. This is beyond humiliating.”

  “Oh honey,” she said. “I’ve been there. You’ve got nothing to be sorry or embarrassed about.”

  She gave me a long hug. Then she stood up and extended her hand. “Let’s go hit that happy hour, shall we? You look like you need a drink.”

  I laughed and nodded and took her hand. She noticed how badly I was shaking and put her arm around me. We walked over to Amsterdam where she hailed a cab uptown. The three of us got in the backseat.

  “Columbus and 78th,” Jackie instructed the driver.

  “Okay, I don’t know if I should say this or not,” George said, looking over at me.

  “Say what?”

  “Your ex is obviously a jerk, but he’s like really hot.”

  “Yeah, he is. And I put up with his shit for a decade because I liked the way he looked. What does that say about me? I’m the superficial jerk.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Sam,” Jackie said. “Live and learn. That one wasn’t worthy of you. Just make sure the next one is.”

  CHAPTER 22

  ◆◆◆

  Han Solo and Princess Leia stood on the corner of 77th and Broadway. Ginger Spice arrived to pick them up in a cab.

  “You guys look incredible!” I said as they climbed into the back seat. Dana wasn’t comfortable taking the subway in her gold bikini and purple sarong. I was equally self-conscious in my micro-minidress and platform boots. Josh, Katie, Lucy and Kyle were meeting us at the party. They wanted their costumes to be a surprise.

  Dana and Simon arrived this morning and were staying at On the Ave. Josh and I took them to Mama Mexico for lunch where we promptly celebrated their arrival in Manhattan and my departure from Dalton. Muchas margaritas were consumed.

  After lunch, Josh left to pick up a few things for his costume. Then he was meeting Katie back at her apartment when she got off work. Dana, Simon and I were attempting to walk off our buzz in Central Park.

  “Can we go to that flea market place you’re always talking about?” Dana asked.

  “It’s only open on Sundays.” I hadn’t been there since my first date with The Waiter. I wasn’t sure I was ready to go back.

  “Can we go tomorrow then?”

  “Sure.” I guess I was ready. “I can pick up some things for my new apartment.”

  “When is Josh moving out?” Simon asked.

  “Next weekend. The only thing I’ve ordered so far is a convertible futon sofa. I can’t really decorate until I see the place without all of Josh’s stuff in it.”

  “Where is he putting all of his stuff?”

  “Katie has a two-bedroom. Her roommate moved out, so she’s got plenty of space.”

  “I have never seen Josh this happy,” Dana said.

  “You are going to love, love, love Kat
ie! I can’t wait for you guys to meet her tonight.”

  Dana and Simon went back to the hotel to get ready. I took the subway home. I had a nasty bruise on my arm from Dalton’s death grip and I knew it would take a while to cover up. It was black and purple and wrapped all the way around my arm in the perfect shape of Dalton’s gigantic hand. It would have been completely visible in my sleeveless Ginger Spice dress had I not meticulously applied several layers of Dermablend.

  When we arrived at the party, George - aka Posh Spice - was the first to greet us.

  “Ginger! You look fabulous! And who are your fabulous friends?”

  “George, this is Dana, my best friend since sixth grade. And this is her boyfriend, Simon.”

  George hugged Dana. “I feel like I know you already.” Then he looked at Simon. “I have to say this because you’re Han Solo. I love you.”

  “I know,” Simon replied without missing a beat. Dana and I laughed.

  “Come on! Let’s get drinks!” George led us over to his desk, which had been transformed into a huge rectangular-shaped bar with glow-in-the-dark barstools. “Look! There’s dry ice and everything!”

  There was indeed dry ice emanating from a large cauldron behind the makeshift bar.

  “What’s in the cauldron?” Simon asked one of the bartenders.

  “Witches’ brew. Vodka, triple sec, pineapple juice, orange sherbet.”

  “I’ll just take a beer.”

  “I’ll try the witches’ brew,” Dana said.

  “Apple martini for me.”

  “You want a caramel appletini?” the bartender asked.

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Butterscotch schnapps.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “When you get your drinks, come over to the photo studio,” George said. “We have to take good costume photos before we all get wasted. I’ll round up the rest of the Spice Girls.”