The Waiter

by Bradleigh Collins

  “Now it’s official,” I said.

  He handed me a glass of champagne. “Cheers, Red.” I took a sip.

  “We have a million boxes to break down,” I said.

  “You know, your apartment is much nicer than mine now. Maybe I should move in here.”

  “Yeah, but your apartment has that amazing view.”

  “Yeah, but your apartment has you,” he said.

  I looked up at him, stunned. “You wanna live together? Here?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “You would give up your apartment?”

  “Nah, I’d sublease it to Nick. He’s been wanting to move into Manhattan, anyway.”

  “I’ve never lived with anybody before. Well, aside from my recent blip with Dalton, which resulted in my homelessness.”

  “I’m not Dalton.”

  I smiled up at him. “Thank god.”

  “So think about it. I know it’s too soon but fuck it. I want to spend every minute with you.”

  “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

  The thought actually terrified me. Yes, I was crazy in love with him. And it was that new kind of love where every minute is magic and you want to spend every waking hour together. But I had only known The Waiter for two months, and we had only been an actual couple for a week.

  Later that night we met Josh, Katie, Lucy and Kyle at Calle Ocho for dinner. I also invited George since he was dying to meet The Waiter. When we walked in, George was already at the bar with Jeffrey, one of the actors from his show.

  “Oh my god!” George said to The Waiter. “You look just like Harry Connick Jr.! Harry Connick Jr. in Hope Floats. Not Harry Connick Jr. in Copycat.”

  The Waiter laughed as he ordered us a round of mojitos. “Is there a difference?”

  “Big difference,” George and Jeffrey both said. The Waiter looked confused.

  “Well,” I clarified, “in Hope Floats he was a total dreamboat. In Copycat, he was a serial killer.”

  “Yeah,” George added. “But more like a Ted Bundy serial killer than a Charles Manson. I mean, he was still Harry Connick, Jr. for chrissake.”

  When everyone else arrived, the host escorted us back to our table.

  “You guys must be exhausted,” Lucy said to The Waiter and Josh.

  “Let’s just say I am now fully qualified to work at IKEA,” The Waiter responded. “Sam ordered everything in the store and I got to put it all together.”

  “What were you wearing?” George asked The Waiter. “You know, when you were putting everything together.” The entire table erupted in laughter.

  After dinner, we walked down the street to Potion, a tiny club on Columbus and 78th Street known for its creative cocktails and incredible DJs. George and Jeffrey immediately hit the dance floor while Katie, Lucy and I secured a table. When the boys headed to the bar to get drinks, I told Katie and Lucy about my day.

  “He wants to move in with me and I’m freaking out.”

  “He said that?” Lucy asked.

  “Yep. Told me to think about it.”

  “And what do you think about it?” Katie said.

  “I don’t know what I think. It’s so soon. I mean literally, it’s like one week.”

  “Yeah, that’s soon,” Lucy agreed. “But aren’t you guys spending every night together anyway?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you feel like you need a break or something?”

  “No, I love being with him.”

  “That’s what happened with Josh and me,” Katie said. “We were spending every night together, and it just made sense.”

  “Lucy, how long did you and Kyle date before you moved in together?”

  “About six months, I think.”

  “That’s not that long,” I said.

  “Here’s the thing, Sam,” Lucy began to school me. “The real estate market in New York speeds up the relationship process because apartments are incredibly rare and even more incredibly expensive.”

  “Yeah but look what happened when I moved in with Dalton.”

  “I know what happened,” she replied. “He showed his true colors. You saved a shit ton of money, and now you have a new apartment and a new man. I’ve never seen you this happy.”

  “She’s right,” Katie agreed. “Besides, we never know how long the people we love are gonna be around. Don’t you wanna spend as much time with him as you can?”

  “The Lama has spoken,” Lucy said. We’d nicknamed Katie “The Lama” because she always came up with profound words of wisdom precisely at the moment we needed it most. “Anyway,” she added, “I think you should go for it. He’s crazy about you.”

  “I agree,” Katie said as the guys began walking back to the table with our drinks. “And I like him so much better than Dalton.”

  “Me too.” I looked up at The Waiter as he sat my martini down on the table. He smiled at me, and in that moment, he replaced Dalton as the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Katie was right. I had no guarantee that he - or anyone - would be around forever. And I definitely wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. The DJ started playing Prince’s “Pussy Control” and George came running over to the table screaming.

  “Oh my god! This is my song! I just requested it. You have to dance with me.”

  “I guess you’re dancing,” The Waiter said.

  “Yes,” I replied, as George pulled me, Katie and Lucy onto the dance floor. Then I turned around and yelled at The Waiter. “Hey, you know that thing we talked about earlier?”

  He nodded.

  “Yes to that too,” I said.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah,” I smiled. “Seriously.”

  CHAPTER 27

  ◆◆◆

  “You look like a tick,” Josh said.

  He, The Waiter and I were walking down 125th Street to catch the B train to Nick’s gym. Last night, The Waiter invited everyone to come with us, but Josh was the only one that had taken him up on the offer.

  I was freezing. The temperature was in the mid-forties, but being from the deep south, I considered anything below sixty degrees flat-out-frigid. As much as I loved New York, I wasn’t sure I would ever get used to the cold. I was wearing a black unitard and one of The Waiter’s Columbia sweatshirts. On top of that was a big blue puffer jacket.

  “I don’t know how you guys deal with this cold.”

  “This isn’t cold,” Josh said.

  “Yeah, wait until January,” The Waiter added.

  We took the B train four stops to 161st Street in the Bronx. It was the first time I’d ever seen Yankee Stadium in person. It looked like a cathedral, and I guess in a way, it was. The Yankees had just swept the Braves in the World Series a little over a week ago. I’d watched the final game at The Gin Mill with Josh, Katie, Lucy and Kyle. That was the night before I’d packed up all of my shit and left Dalton for good.

  The gym was located a couple of blocks from the stadium on the top floor of a brick building. It had floor-to-ceiling windows and an incredible view of the stadium. As soon as we walked in, Nick immediately came over and greeted us.

  “You don’t know how happy I am to see your beautiful face.” He gave me a bear hug and lifted me off the ground. “This guy’s been moping around the city for weeks.”

  “Really?”

  “You can’t believe anything he says,” The Waiter responded. “He’s been punched in the head too many times.”

  “So, this is your gym,” Josh said looking around. “Cool place.”

  It was a cool place. There were two boxing rings and several heavy bags hanging from the ceiling. There were two guys sparring in one of the rings and about a half-dozen others scattered throughout the gym.

  “It’s my Dad’s gym actually. I just work here.” Apparently Nick’s dad had been a pretty successful boxer in Argentina in the sixties. When he retired, he moved the family to New York and opened this gym.

  “How did you end up performing in De La Guarda?” I aske
d.

  “My cousin. He was involved in the original production in Argentina. When it came to New York, he asked me if I wanted to be part of it and I said, ‘hell yeah!’”

  “So, boxing coach by day, Peter Pan by night?”

  “Exactly. Now, are you guys ready to get in the ring?”

  “Yes!” Josh said.

  “No,” I said. The Waiter laughed at me.

  We began our workout by jumping rope. In just a few minutes, I was already sweating and it was time to lose The Waiter’s sweatshirt. I was a little uncomfortable, being the only girl in the gym at the time. And I wasn’t the only one feeling self-conscious.

  “There’s no way in hell I’m going shirtless in here,” Josh said. The Waiter and Nick had already shed their shirts. “These guys look like they were created in a lab.”

  Josh and I started competing to see who could jump rope the longest without missing a skip. I was crushing him. After a half-hour or so, we moved on to the heavy bags.

  “I have to wrap your hands babe,” The Waiter said. He pulled up a stool in front of me and began unraveling a set of wraps. I looked down at him as he sat there, shirtless and sweaty. He took my right hand and began slowly wrapping the material around it. It was incredibly erotic.

  “You ready to hit it?” He asked when he was done wrapping my hands.

  “Oh, I’m ready to hit it alright,” I replied. He shook his head.

  “You need to focus,” he said as he stood up. Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “And stop looking at me like that. I can’t be walking around here with a hard-on.”

  I laughed. We went over to the heavy bags. Nick was working with Josh, demonstrating how to throw a right hook in precise detail. The Waiter was putting boxing gloves on me.

  “You look sexy when you’re all sweaty,” he said.

  “I feel gross.”

  I started punching the bag, trying to listen to everything The Waiter was telling me to do.

  “Harder! Think of somebody you’d really like to punch and knock the hell out of him!”

  Well, that was easy. I immediately thought about Dalton and my punching intensified. Of course, I did this all the time in my kickboxing classes. Dalton was my go-to nemesis, and he always delivered a productive workout.

  “Damn,” The Waiter said. “I’m pretty sure I know exactly who you’re thinking about.”

  “Well, who do you think about when you’re hitting the bag?”

  “My ex-wife,” he said. Suddenly I wanted to hit him instead of the bag. This was the first time I’d ever heard about an ex-anything, much less an ex-wife. The Waiter continued. “Actually, I think about the guy my ex-wife cheated on me with.”

  “You were married?”

  “Yeah. For about two years.”

  “How come you never told me about this before?”

  “I didn’t wanna scare you away, and it’s a part of my life that’s over. She cheated on me. I divorced her. And that’s it.”

  “When did you get divorced?”

  “Three years ago. When I was twenty-seven.”

  “Does she still live in New York?”

  “No. She married the guy she cheated on me with and they moved to Miami.”

  I was stunned. It’s not like I didn’t expect him to have a past, but for some reason, I was angry at him. We had moved on from the heavy bags and climbed up into the ring. The Waiter was now holding two big pads in either hand, and I was alternating punches into both of them.

  “Okay, now I’m not sure if you’re throwing punches at your ex or at me,” he said. “Are you mad at me?”

  “I’m not mad.”

  “You look like you really wanna hit me.”

  “No, I don’t wanna hit you.” I wanted to hit her.

  “I know there was at least one time you definitely wanted to hit me.”

  “Yes, there was.”

  “And now?”

  I had no intention of hitting him. Instead, I just threw my arms around him. And, of course, I started to cry.

  “I’m sorry baby,” he said. “I should have told you before.”

  I playfully punched him. “No, you shouldn’t have. I don’t wanna hear about any other girls before me.”

  He laughed and gave me a long kiss.

  “Are you guys seriously making out in my boxing ring?” Nick asked. He and The Waiter were about to do a sparring session. Both of them put on their padded face protectors and then I helped The Waiter into his boxing gloves.

  “Nick, please don’t hit him in the face.”

  “That’s why he’s wearing that padding, love. To protect that beautiful face of his.”

  For the next forty-five minutes, Josh and I stood ringside and watched The Waiter and Nick repeatedly hit each other. Josh loved it. I didn’t. I was still feeling the pain of my own gut punch.

  The Waiter was married before. And not to me.

  CHAPTER 28

  ◆◆◆

  “Breathe. Drink. Repeat.”

  Lucy had become my liquid Lamaze coach. I’d just joined her and Katie at The Heights for brunch and was half-way done with my first mimosa.

  “So he was married before,” Katie said. “What’s the big deal? You were practically married to Dalton.”

  “Dana said the same thing. I called her in the cab on the way down here.”

  “Yeah, Sam,” Lucy said. “I really don’t understand why you’re so freaked out about this.”

  “I think I’m just in shock.” I ordered another mimosa.

  “I’m shocked anybody would cheat on him,” Katie said.

  “Yeah,” Lucy agreed. “I’d like to get a look at the guy she cheated on him with.”

  “I’d like to get a look at her.”

  “Why?” Katie asked. “She’s his past, you’re his present. And she’s living in Miami.”

  “No, she’s living rent-free in my head. And I don’t even know what she looks like.”

  “I’m sure you’re way prettier,” Lucy said.

  “I’m sure she’s Cindy Crawford. And I’m Cindy Brady.”

  “Stop!” Katie said. “You’re obsessing over nothing.”

  “Yeah, you are,” Lucy agreed. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “How was the workout?” Katie asked. “Did Josh get hit in the face?”

  “No. Josh is a much better boxer than me, but I did kick his ass jumping rope.”

  “How’s Nick?” Lucy asked. “Is he still as hot as he was in De La Guarda?”

  “He’s good. Still hot. You guys should have come. Even though I winced every time a punch landed, I have to admit I was totally turned on watching the two of them in the ring. Shirtless.”

  “Okay, next time I am going with you,” Lucy said.

  “Me too,” Katie added.

  “Their startup idea is pretty amazing. Boxing, martial arts, aerial training, and now they’ve added climbing.”

  “Oh, like he did in the show?” Katie asked.

  “Exactly. They’ve got a lot of investors interested. Nick’s dad has all these contacts in the boxing world.”

  “They’re gonna be so rich,” Lucy said. “And you’re gonna be Mrs. Rich.”

  “He already had a missus, remember?”

  “And we’re back to being obsessed,” she said.

  Katie looked at me. “I thought you said you never wanted to get married. What would you say if he asked you to marry him one day?”

  “I don’t know.”

  That was the honest truth. Marriage was not something I’d ever aspired to. Growing up, when my older sisters would pore through stacks of bridal magazines dog-earing their favorite dresses, I would flip to the back and dream about having my own heart-shaped tub like the ones in the Poconos. I had devoured enough Cosmopolitan magazines in my youth to view marriage as limiting. As a teenager, I had photos of Helen Gurley-Brown and Gloria Steinem on my bulletin-board. I wanted to grow up, move to the big city, and live the city girl life. And to me, t
hat didn’t include marriage. As crazy as I was about The Waiter, and as excited as I was about him moving in with me, deep down I knew I didn’t want to marry him. I didn’t want to marry anybody.

  “Well, speaking of marriage,” Lucy said, “I know my wedding is only two months away, but I want you guys to be bridesmaids.”

  “Of course!” Katie and I said at the same time.

  “I only have two bridesmaids right now, and they’re my cousins. You guys have become my best friends. I want you up there with me.”

  “I think I’m gonna cry,” I said.

  “I think you’re drunk,” Lucy replied.

  “What do the dresses look like?”

  “Anything you want. As long as it’s black.”

  “We get to pick our own dresses?” Katie asked.

  “Dresses, pantsuits, jumpsuits. You can wear overalls for all I care. As long as they’re black and stylish. And as long as you’re comfortable in it.”

  “This is so exciting!”

  “So you’re excited about being in a wedding,” Katie said, “as long as you’re not the bride.”

  “Correct.”

  “Well, at least I know who not to throw the bouquet to,” Lucy said.

  “Throw it to Katie.”

  “No! I don’t want to scare Josh off.”

  “You couldn’t scare that boy off if you tried,” I replied. “He’s crazy about you.”

  “So, Katie,” Lucy teased, “if Josh asked you to marry him, what would you say?”

  “Yes. In a heartbeat.”

  “Oh my god! We’d be family.”

  “We’re already family,” Katie said.

  Lucy held up her mimosa and proposed a toast. “To family.”

  “To family!” We clinked our glasses together. Then the conversation turned to the upcoming holidays.

  “Oh, by the way, Jackie invited all of us to her place on Thanksgiving to watch the parade. George says she has the perfect view.”

  “She does,” Lucy said. “Her apartment is right on Central Park West.”

  “That’s so nice of her,” Katie stated.

  “We have to start planning Thanksgiving Eve,” Lucy said.