The Waiter

by Bradleigh Collins

“I love you so much,” he said.

  “I love you too.”

  The Chinese food would have to wait, because we spent the next two hours in bed. Lying in his arms afterwards, I actually felt more relieved than sad. I knew I’d made the right decision. And I think, deep down, he knew it too.

  “Can we eat now?” I asked.

  “I just did,” he replied, laughing. I smiled at him.

  “And can we stay in and do this for the rest of weekend?”

  “Yes, my love. We can.”

  I was hoping we could parlay the “staying in” trend for Valentine’s Day too, but The Waiter was not about to let that happen.

  Monday night, he’d made arrangements for us to have a private romantic dinner at Pomodoro. He wanted to say goodbye to all the people he’d been working with and he knew we’d get the royal treatment, which we did.

  When I arrived at Pomodoro after work and sat down at the table, he handed me an envelope.

  “I matched you,” he said. Inside the envelope were six round-trip tickets he had booked for himself. “Now we’ll be seeing each other at least twice a month for the next six months.”

  I got up and went over to hug him. He pulled me into his lap. “We’ll figure this thing out, Red. I promise.” Then he kissed me.

  Alfred, the manager of Pomodoro, came over to our table with a bottle of champagne. “I see we’re already celebrating.”

  “We are,” The Waiter replied.

  “Sammy, why are you letting him move to California? You know he’s my best waiter.”

  “I do know that, Alfred. But he’ll be back.” I winked at The Waiter.

  “Yeah, but he won’t be a waiter,” Alfred said. “He’ll end up buying the restaurant.”

  “That’s actually not a bad idea,” The Waiter said. Alfred popped the champagne and poured us both a glass.

  “Cheers to you two. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  As he walked away, I got up from The Waiter’s lap and returned to my seat.

  “A toast,” he said, holding up his glass of champagne. “And a plan.”

  “A plan?”

  “Look,” he said. “I know things are about to change between us. But no matter what, next year, Valentine’s Day, you and me, right here. This restaurant. This table. What do you say, Red?”

  I smiled across the table at him. “I say it’s a date.”

  CHAPTER 37

  ◆◆◆

  The night before The Waiter officially moved to California, we all gathered for dinner at Rancho. Surprisingly, I was in a pretty upbeat mood. I was also on my second frozen mango margarita, which probably had something to do with it. Tonight was both a celebration for The Waiter and a coming together of my support system. My support system was drunk.

  “You know you’re not leaving without singing karaoke tonight,” Lucy said to The Waiter. “You’ve never done it before.”

  “There’s a reason for that.”

  “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow,” Katie said.

  “Stop!” I yelled. “I’ll start crying right here! Right now!”

  “Babe, you’re gonna see me in like five days.”

  It was true. I was flying out to Los Angeles on Friday for the weekend. But something about tonight just felt so final.

  “I know. But still. It’s New Year’s Eve all over again.”

  “Oh god. Here she goes with the New Year’s Eve thing.”

  “It’s true! What was I doing at midnight on New Year’s Eve?”

  “You were drunk and crying,” everyone at the table said in unison.

  “See? And I’m gonna be drunk and crying tonight, and I’m gonna be drunk and crying all fucking year. I told you guys.”

  “You are so freaking cute,” The Waiter said, leaning over again and kissing me. “You know what else you were doing at midnight?”

  “What?”

  “Kissing me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And what are you doing right now?”

  “Kissing you.”

  “Exactly.”

  After dinner, we gathered for a group photo. Josh climbed up on Rancho’s signature saddle stool at the bar and struck a cowboy pose with his hand high in the air.

  “Bull riding,” The Waiter said. “That should be your next hobby if you get tired of karaoke.”

  Josh laughed.

  “Man, I’m sorry I’m not gonna be in town the weekend of your birthday. I’ve got a trade show in San Francisco.”

  “I know,” Josh said. “Sam told me. You’ll be missed. Especially by this one.” He motioned towards me.

  One of the waitresses snapped a few photos of our group as we all gathered around Josh. I smiled, even though I knew that every time I looked at this photo in the future it would remind me of The Waiter’s last night in town. And every time, it would break my fucking heart.

  We left Rancho and walked down to The Gin Mill. As soon as we got there, Katie, Lucy and I made a beeline downstairs to the bathroom while the guys worked their way through the crowd to the bar.

  “So,” Katie said as we waited on line in the tiny narrow hallway, “what are you guys doing tomorrow?”

  “Going to the GreenFlea. His flight leaves at three, so tomorrow morning, we’re going to get H&H bagels and then going back to the spot where we had our first date.”

  “That’s so poetic,” Lucy said. “Now I think I’m going to cry.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “You’re not going to the airport with him?” Katie asked.

  “No, I couldn’t bear it. And he couldn’t bear it either.”

  “Then you’ll be meeting us for brunch tomorrow,” Lucy said. “How about The Heights?”

  “I don’t think I’ll be in the mood for brunch.”

  “You’ll be in the mood for alcohol,” she replied.

  “Well, that’s true.”

  By the time we got back upstairs, The Waiter was at the front of the bar. And he wasn’t alone. A very tall, very blonde woman was chatting him up as he paid for our drinks. He looked completely uninterested. But I knew that wouldn’t always be the case.

  “Sam, don’t even go there,” Lucy said.

  “Too late. Now I have a very clear visual of what the man I’m madly in love with will be subject to for the next year or so.”

  The Waiter turned around and made eye contact with me. I smiled. He smiled. A few minutes later he delivered my apple martini.

  “Here you go, babe.”

  I glanced over at the blonde who was still at the bar. She had already moved on to flirting with somebody else.

  “You think I don’t think about it?” The Waiter asked.

  “Think about what?”

  “Other guys hitting on you. At bars. At work. On the subway. Everywhere.”

  Once again, I realized that this was just as hard for him as it was me.

  “Well, they’re not you,” I replied.

  He kissed me on the forehead.

  “And nobody will ever be you,” he said.

  We stayed at The Gin Mill long enough to watch the Rangers lose to the Senators. Then we headed out to The Parlour.

  “Darryl’s meeting us,” Josh said as we left the bar. “He’s bringing his new girlfriend.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Yes, you can. Trust me.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “Insane,” Katie said immediately. “She’s from Texas. And she’s like insane.”

  “You’ll see,” Kyle said.

  “You guys met her?”

  “Once,” Lucy replied. “That was enough.”

  “She’s like a younger, shorter version of Joey’s agent on Friends,” Josh added.

  “Well this should be interesting.”

  The six of us walked up Amsterdam. Lucy and Kyle held hands in front of us. Josh was giving Katie a piggyback ride because her high heels were hurting her feet. The Waiter and I were arm-in-arm. It was freakishly warm for
February and I would have been content to just walk the city all night. I thought about all the times our little group had walked the streets of Manhattan over the last several months. Bar hopping. Going to dinner. The night we all went to De La Guarda. Soon, it would only be five of us. I’d be the odd man out.

  “I can’t believe it’s this warm,” The Waiter said as we turned onto 86th Street. “It’s only going up to sixty this weekend in L.A.”

  “Can we go back to Gladstone’s on Saturday?”

  “Of course we can. Anything you want.”

  “I love that place.”

  “It can be ‘our’ place,” he said. “Our West Coast place.”

  Hearing him say that made me feel like everything was going to be okay. We would be a successful bi-coastal couple. We’d be together every other weekend on our home turfs, and I’d get a nice dose of California sunshine every month. When we were together, we’d be together. When we weren’t, I would keep myself busy with work and not think about all the tall, tan California girls flirting with him. At least that’s what I was going to keep telling myself.

  When we got to The Parlour, there was a sign outside advertising tonight’s drink specials and karaoke contest.

  “Hey look! They’re doing cock blocks,” Josh said.

  “You mean rock blocks?” I asked.

  “What did I say?”

  “Cock blocks, Josh,” Katie answered. “You said cock blocks.”

  “Well, I’m sure there’s plenty of that happening, too.”

  The Parlour had been doing Rock Block Karaoke since the night before Thanksgiving. The same night Daryl had famously impersonated Axl Rose for several songs before infamously punching Dalton in the face. When we walked in, they had just started a Bon Jovi block and someone was singing “Living on a Prayer.” Technically, the entire bar was singing “Living on a Prayer.” We said hello to Jimmy who was working the door and then made our way inside.

  From across the bar, I saw Darryl waving his hands above his head, frantically motioning us over. I looked for his new girlfriend but didn’t see her. That is until we got closer. She was that short. Barely pushing five feet, I’d say. What she lacked in height, she made up for in volume. Both in her hair, and in her voice.

  “Yay!” she screamed as we approached. “Darryl told me I was gonna get to meet y’all tonight!”

  “Hi!” I extended my hand to greet her. “I’m Sammy.”

  “I’m Molly!” She reached up to hug me and all I could think was please don’t let her cigarette catch my hair on fire.

  “You’re so pretty!” she screamed in my ear. “Is that your real hair or a wig?”

  “Um, it’s my real hair. Not my real hair color, but my real hair.”

  “This is not my real hair color either!” That was pretty obvious. She had bleached blonde, heavily teased hair straight out of a Whitesnake video. I was guessing she’d stuck with this hairstyle since the eighties because she needed the extra height.

  I introduced her to The Waiter.

  “You’re so fucking tall! And I thought we grew ‘em big in Texas. Where you from?”

  “Brooklyn!” He squeezed my arm and began pulling me backwards.

  “We’re gonna grab some drinks,” he said to Darryl and Molly. “You guys good?”

  “Yeah, we’re good,” Darryl responded.

  “What the hell was that?” The Waiter said as we joined the others at the bar.

  “Did I tell you?” Lucy asked. “Did I not tell you?”

  “She’s a little loud, but sweet. Where in the world did Darryl meet her?”

  “Off the Wagon,” Katie replied.

  “‘Off his rocker,’” Josh added.

  “What does she do?”

  “She’s a kindergarten teacher.”

  “Get the fuck out,” The Waiter said.

  “Actually, that kinda makes sense,” I added, looking over at them. “Darryl seems pretty happy.”

  “He’s getting laid,” Josh said. “Of course he’s happy. Here. I ordered shots for all of us.” He motioned for Darryl and Molly to come join us and began handing out Kamikazes.

  Josh held up his shot glass and looked at The Waiter.

  “To your success in Los Angeles, and to you and Sam officially becoming bi-coastal.”

  “To Sam becoming bi!” Darryl yelled.

  “Hear hear!” Everyone laughed and drank.

  “And now, if you guys will excuse me,” Josh said, “it’s time to get my Bon Jovi on.” He walked over to the karaoke host who handed him a list of songs.

  “Man, Josh is like royalty in here,” The Waiter said.

  “Well, he is the karaoke king,” Katie replied.

  “Oh my god!” I said. “Now I know what I’m getting him for his birthday.”

  “A crown?” Katie asked.

  “We should probably get him one of those too.”

  The sing-along continued as Josh started belting out “You Give Love a Bad Name.” Molly and Darryl were right in front of him, head-banging and singing at the top of their lungs.

  “Jesus, it’s fucking Sid and Nancy,” Kyle said, causing The Waiter to laugh hard enough to spit out his beer.

  “Damn, I’m gonna miss this,” he said.

  “Don’t! Don’t start that! I am not crying again tonight.”

  “Okay, it’s time for you to sing!” Lucy pointed at The Waiter.

  “I think I’m just drunk enough to do it,” he said. I grabbed his hand as he started to walk over to the karaoke book.

  “If you sing ‘Never Say Goodbye,’ I swear to god I will slit my wrist and bleed out right here at the bar.”

  He laughed. “I’ll try to choose something a little more upbeat.” He kissed me and walked away. I watched as he ran his finger down the list of songs and then stop. He showed it to the host who nodded.

  As soon as Josh finished, he handed the microphone off to The Waiter. The music started.

  “Born to be My Baby” blared from the speakers and the entire bar started singing the opening chorus. The Waiter smiled at me and I nodded my approval as he sang the first verse.

  “Oh my god! He can sing!” Lucy shouted.

  “Yes, he can. He’s fucking perfect!”

  She and Katie put their arms around me as we all sang together and cheered The Waiter on. He sang the entire song looking directly at me as I mouthed the words along with him, smiling through my tears. Tears that were thankfully interspersed with bursts of manic laughter watching Darryl and Molly dance spastically in front of him.

  Nobody in the bar, aside from our core little group, had any idea the significance of the moment. It wasn’t just another Bon Jovi song sang at a karaoke bar on a random Saturday night. It was my swan song.

  The Waiter was leaving tomorrow. And I was dying inside.

  CHAPTER 38

  ◆◆◆

  The next morning, The Waiter and I were strolling 77th Street and reminiscing our first date. We’d just picked up bagels at H&H and planned on washing them down with ice cold grape juice at the GreenFlea. We were denied.

  “What happened to the grape juice dude?” The Waiter asked as we stood in front of the stand, which was now offering hot cider.

  “He’s seasonal,” the cider-man said. “We share the space.”

  “We’ll have two ciders then.” The Waiter handed him some cash and he handed us two cups. Then we began browsing the market. We stopped to say hello to John and Adriana. The Waiter started flipping through their latest collection of vintage albums.

  “Oh Red, you have to have this one.” He held up a copy of The Mama’s and The Papa’s If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears. “It’s got ‘California Dreamin’ on it.”

  I smiled at him as he paid John for the album while I made small talk with Adriana. We waved goodbye to them as we left.

  “Wanna go for a walk?” he asked. “Over to the park?”

  “You asked me that on our first date.”

  “Yes, I did.”
>
  “I’d love to go for a walk with you.” And off to the park we went, hand-in-hand.

  “You know, I was really nervous the first day I met you here,” I said. “Walking past those brownstones back there, I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.”

  “Really? I didn’t think you were gonna show up.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I thought you might think it was weird that some random waiter dude asked you out the second he met you. That you might think I was psycho.”

  “I thought you were hot,” I replied. He laughed.

  “I just couldn’t believe you were the girl I’d seen in the park that morning. I’d been thinking about you all day.”

  “Get the fuck out!”

  “No, I’m serious. We made eye contact, remember?”

  “Of course I do. Josh told me to stop leering at you.”

  “Did you know that wasn’t even my section you guys were sitting in at the restaurant?”

  “I did not know that.”

  “When I saw you walk in, I made one of the other guys switch with me so I could talk to you.”

  “How come you never told me this before?” By this time, we’d made it into Central Park and over to our bench.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think I was some kind of freak. And I didn’t wanna jinx it, ya know? Like what are the odds?”

  “That was my first authentic New York moment. And look at us now. Right back here. On our bench.”

  “This is our bench,” he replied. “You can’t sit on this bench with anyone else but me. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Look, Sam. I know we talked about seeing other people and I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. I just need to know that other people doesn’t include him.”

  I knew he was referring to Dalton.

  “I hate the thought of him being here and me not,” he said. “I hate the thought of him, period.”

  “He’s leaving New York. His gig is up at the end of March.”

  “How do you know that? I thought you weren’t talking to him.”

  “I haven’t talked to him. And I don’t plan to. He sent me a holiday card back in December. Well, he sent it to the office.”

  “So he’s moving back to Atlanta?”