by K. F. Breene
“Oh, well.” The woman glanced at her husband. “I think we might take one of those hikes y’all got. Then we’re signed up to learn how to make a fire without, well, fire!”
“Oh? Sounds interesting.” It didn’t, but they didn’t have to know that. “What can I get for you? Would you like some coffee?”
“Well, now…” The woman pursed her lips, looking down her menu slowly.
“I’ll have some coffee, yes please.” The man folded his hands on the table and smiled up at Sara.
“No problem.” Sara turned her sparkling “I am here to serve you and have nothing better to do but wait” smile back on the woman. She didn’t want to repeat herself, but she had two other tables to get to and the decision to have coffee really shouldn’t take this long.
“Hmmm,” the woman said, analyzing the print.
“Just get a coffee, honey, so this young lady can get on her way,” the man said pleasantly.
“Well, I’m getting to it.” The woman waved her husband away testily.
“Or, if you prefer, I make a mean Mimosa or a Bloody Mary…” Sara smiled at the next table, trying to indicate they’d only have to wait just a smidge longer. When she turned back, the woman was looking at her with slightly widened eyes.
Sara had one second to feel a rush of fear, thinking she’d made a faux pas of some sort, before a wicked grin lit up the woman’s face. “Yes, dear, I think that is exactly what I need. Mimosa it is!”
“Great! I’ll be right back for your orders.”
She visited the next two tables in a relaxed sort of bustle. Smiling and cheery, she collected drink orders and floated back to the minibar near the kitchen.
“You got any orders yet or what?” Ethel shouted.
The executive chef, a graying man with a straight back, swung his gaze from a stack of clever orange peel twists and speared Ethel with a glare. She scowled right back, one spatula-clutching hand fisted on her hip.
“Drink orders. Is this a beer and wine bar only? There’s vodka and champagne, right?” Sara checked over the supplies.
“Limited bar, but enough to get by,” the chef said in a stodgy voice thick with command. He probably ran a large kitchen, orchestrating tickets with practice and ease. And now here he was, dealing with a couple of jerks in a small kitchen.
He must’ve been making a ton.
When Sara was finally back with her first couple orders, she heard, “Girl, you are slower than a slug moving through peanut butter!”
“Florence, just take the order,” Christie yelled back as she stepped up beside Sara, two tickets clutched in her hand. She gave Sara an exasperated eye roll, to which Sara smirked. Waitresses versus cooks. She could play this game.
Her butt vibrated.
With a flurry of butterflies, she couldn’t help the jubilant smile as she ducked behind the waitress station and whisked out her phone. She shouldn’t have brought it—it was unprofessional and distracting—but she missed Mikey. He was exactly the same, only better.
Text from Mikey: How goes your first day?
Glancing around the partition, she noticed one of her customers was about ready for another drink. She bent to her phone with flying fingers.
Text from Sara: surviving. what u doing?
She paused a second, wondering if he’d text back right away. Just as she was about to stuff the phone back in her pocket, it vibrated again.
Text from Mikey: Lunch.
An image accompanied the text. She touched it, glancing back at that table, the woman now looking up for service. As Sara’s gaze turned back to the phone, her breath caught. The phone held a beautiful tableau of grassy, rolling hills dusted with limitless sky so clear and blue it looked like heaven reaching down to shake hands with the people on earth. Her chest grew warm and her hands tingled. She wanted to be sitting next to him taking in that beautiful scenery so bad it had just become a complex.
“What are you standing around there for?” Ethel said. “We got people to feed!”
Sighing, Sara spun around and snapped off a pic of the spatula-raising bane of her existence.
“This ain’t a danged photo shoot! Get to work,” Ethel badgered.
Text from Sara: this is what ive got going. joy. wish I was there.
She attached the picture and stuffed the phone in her back pocket. She felt the buzz as she made her way out to the tables, but ignored it. Pausing was one thing, but checking the phone in front of guests was a no-no.
She did speed up, though. She glided across the floor on light feet, not having to feign a smile. At the very next opportunity, she stashed herself behind her station and dove in her pocket.
Text from Mikey: Me too. Miss you
Sara smiled as her head bent over the phone, her thumbs already moving.
Text from Sara: me too. buckle my shoe
Text from Mikey: Your poetry is atrocious
Text from Sara: big word. were u saving that one up for a special occasion?
“This ain’t a damn train station, dolly, get moving!” Ethel roared.
Irritated, Sara jammed her phone back in her pocket. With a scowl for Ethel, she picked up the food in the window and scurried out to the floor.
“Who are you texting?” Christie asked when Sara hustled back in to get a drink order.
“Mikey. He’s hanging out in paradise while I’m here dealing with picky people and a jerk for a cook,” Sara whispered furiously.
“Oooh, what’s he saying?” Christie asked excitedly. “Did you get me a date yet?”
“Ew.” Sara grabbed two glasses and hurried out, another pocket buzz spurring her on. After dropping off drinks like she was on fire, she took another order with sparkling eyes and hurried back to her protective alcove.
Text from Mikey: Commencing radio silence. I don’t want to get you fired. Ps jerk!
Sara chuckled and shook her head. She bent back over the phone.
“What’s he saying?” Christie asked as she grabbed a ketchup bottle. “Seriously, this counts as flirting.”
“It does not. He’s a good friend with a sense of humor. I’m still funnier, though.”
Text from Sara: ill text later
Text from Mikey: Good
Smiling like an idiot, she spared a moment to wrinkle her nose at Ethel before heading back out to her customers. It felt so good to have him back in her life. She had a powerhouse in her corner, and boy did she need it. Now more than ever.
* * *
“How did your first day go?”
Sara breathed a sigh of relaxation as she settled in next to Sam at the staff picnic table, a plate of food steaming in front of her. “Good, but long. I guess normally the main meals are at set times for the most part, but today the hours have been whack since guests are arriving.”
“Yeah, it takes the first couple of days to get into the swing of things, but then things get more regular. When do you start your volunteering?”
“Tomorrow. I’m supposed to meet Jake in the early evening.”
Sam groaned. “Which task is it?”
“It’s the leather conditioning one.”
“Well, at least you don’t have to deal with Paul yet. He’s weird.”
“Who’s weird?” Christie sat down with a wet head and a tired sigh.
“Sam was saying Paul is weird.” Sara stuffed a forkful of potatoes into her mouth.
“Oh yeah, way weird. But I guess he’s great with horses, so…” Christie shrugged. “You did well today, Sara.”
Sara smiled. “Thanks. I forgot how exhausting waiting tables is, though. I’m not used to being on my feet all day.” She glanced around. “Where are all the triangle boys?”
“Most of the cowboys eat at the upper ranch house,” Christie said as she picked up her first BBQ-sauce-covered rib, eyeing the slathered sauce dubiously. “They deal with their tasks during the day, then have to take care of any other duties later on. They only come down here every so often.”
“Hmm. Well, I better—”
>
“You wanna go for a walk before bed?” Sam asked quickly.
Sara and Christie both looked up in surprise. A smirk worked its way up Christie’s face.
“Oh, well…” Sara cleared her throat. “Sounds great, but maybe another night? I’m exhausted from today. Not used to constant activity, you know?”
Sam laughed, easy and effortless. “Of course. I forgot you don’t have any stamina.”
Sara smiled in relief. “Working on it.”
“Wait for me. I’ll go back with you.” Christie finished off her rib and stuffed some potato in her mouth before bounding up.
As they made their way into the night, Christie said quietly, “That was awkward.”
“Little bit,” Sara agreed. “I’ve hinted pretty obviously that I’m all jacked up and not looking for a relationship…”
“He’s probably not thinking that far ahead. After the summer ends, everyone goes home. This is a place for flings.”
“Huh. Well, don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m not really into flings. Was kind of with one guy for an extended period of time. Then he dumped me, so my average isn’t looking too good.”
“Probably hopes you’ll rebound.”
Sara opened the back door for Christie, that familiar lead weight lodging in her chest at the thought of moving on. The thought of why she had to.
Panic gripped her. “I don’t want to rebound. I don’t want to feel anything. I wish I could just cut off the emotional side and go through life like a zombie.”
Christie wrapped her arm around Sara’s shoulders in a walking hug as they approached their room.
“Although I guess I’ve been doing that for the last few years,” Sara amended, the lump in her chest spreading through her body. “Kind of a waste.”
“Nah,” Christie said quietly as they walked into their room so as not to wake the nightmare twins next door. “Only when you don’t learn from your mistakes are they a waste.”
Sara nodded, tears springing. She shook her head and widened her eyes so no moisture leaked out. “I’m going to go for a walk.”
“Are you sure?” Christie asked, pausing with her shirt halfway off. “Do you want me to come?”
“No, I’m okay.” Sara grabbed a sweater and headed back toward the door. “I just need to clear my head.”
“Okay, well… text if you want company. And don’t go far. I don’t want you getting lost.”
Sara nodded, her heart lightened that the college student had turned into the responsible adult. When she stepped outside, though, the tiny amount of joy withered away. The darkness engulfed her, smothering. The pain welled up, the thought of being dumped for another woman frosting her heart and chewing away chunks at a time.
A tingling fizz started at her ribcage, but not the good kind when a new crush came around. She didn’t even remember what that felt like. No, this was the other kind. The sucking undertow that happened right before the wave of loss crashed down and pulled her under. A flashback pinched her heart.
“Phil… but… please. We can work it out. We can fix this.”
Phil’s head had tilted to the side, his ice-blue eyes looking down at her in comical pity. “Sara, you’re just not the same girl you used to be. I need to move on.”
“But we’re engaged, Phil. Doesn’t that mean anything? We have so much history…”
As Sara’s feet crunched along the path through the trees, pain filled her chest.
“Some things just weren’t meant to be,” he’d said as he turned toward the door. “Take care.”
The click of the door in the silent house sounded like a gunshot. As the emptiness settled in her heart and throughout the house, loneliness crept in. The stark, desolate landscape of her love life grew cold and secluded. Isolated. All she’d known of love had crunched her bones into a fine powder and dusted her away. Every time she went to sleep in an empty bed, it reminded her of her inadequacy. Of the fact that he’d walked out on her when her age was starting to show and chosen someone prettier. Someone younger. Someone better.
Gulping down a sob, she emerged from the tree line and stopped. The world dropped away in an explosion of stars. Closing her eyes, she let the cool breeze dry her tear-streaked face. Almost without thinking, she reached into her pocket and took out her phone.
“Hello?” Mikey answered nearly immediately.
“Hey.” She paused. She had no idea what to say. How to ask for help.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, somehow hearing her thoughts.
“I went looking for her,” she blurted, sitting down with a thump. “I followed him to the office and waited for them after work. Just to see what he replaced me with. She was really pretty, Mikey. Gorgeous. Early twenties, with a great body. I wanted to try and get him back, but there was no way to compete with that. She had everything I didn’t.”
“She didn’t, Sara. Trust me, she didn’t. Where are you?”
Sara dropped her head into her hand, her elbow resting on her knee. “I just… Oh God, Mikey. It hurts so bad.”
“Where are you, Sara?”
She choked out her location, clutching the phone in a white-knuckled grip. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain, sobs wracking her body.
And then he was there. Large, strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. “It’s okay, Sara. It’s okay. We’ll get through this together, okay? I’m here.”
She nodded, curling up into his arms gratefully. Trying to just move on—trying to cut out the pain. To forget about being left for someone else. To resign herself to being alone.
No. Not alone. She had Mikey now.
Then a thought occurred to her.
“What’ll happen after the summer, Mikey? You live here and I don’t. Will that be it again?”
“Of course not,” he whispered, rocking her slowly. His cheek rested beside hers, his smell enveloping her. Love and support wrapped around her. “I’ll never leave you again. I’ll follow you around forever. Even if I die, I’ll strap on some chains and chase around after you, rattling them every time you get lonely.”
A giggle drifted out of the pain. “You would, too.”
“Yes, I would.”
“You said that to me when we were kids. When I tried to kick you out and told you I never wanted to see you again. Remember?”
“Back then it was out of spite. And yes, I do remember. I meant it just as much then as I do now. But for a different reason.”
“Same outcome,” she said, and then hiccupped.
“Yes, the very same.”
Sara closed her eyes and leaned more firmly into him, shutting down to minimize the pain. She rested her face against Mikey’s warm neck and relaxed, content to be held in his arms. Strong and safe and solid. Mikey.
* * *
The next thing she knew, she was opening her groggy eyes as she was being lowered into her bed.
“What?” she asked in a daze.
“Shhh, you’ll wake your roommate. You fell asleep so I thought I’d bring you back here.”
“You carried me all that way?” she asked in that supreme confusion of just waking up. She reached up to him, hating the loss of his body heat. He leaned down so she could rest her palm on the side of his neck. “You’re really strong.”
“I get by,” he whispered with a smile in his voice. “Goodnight, Sara. I’ll call you tomorrow and see how you are, okay?”
She nodded as he planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
“Thanks, Mikey, for coming. For saving me.”
His fingertips brushed her face. “I didn’t save you—I stood next to you. We’ll battle this together, Sara. You don’t have to worry about being alone anymore. Not ever again.”
She nodded, fresh tears springing to her eyes. How had he known? She had her family, after all. And a few friends, however distant. She wasn’t really alone in the grand scheme of things. So how had he known the isolation she felt?
“I helped shape you, Sara,” he said softl
y, hands tracing her jaw line. “And you helped shape me. I can read you.”
“You’re starting to creep me out,” she muttered as a smile budded.
“Reading your thoughts is step one, as I recall. You finishing my sentences is step two.”
“Fistfights and bloody noses are step three.” Her lips tweaked upward.
“Exactly. And don’t expect me to take it easy on you.”
The desire to chuckle ate away some of the pain. She closed her hand around his and squeezed. “Thank you.”
“See you tomorrow.”
The click of the door in the quiet room sounded like the latch on a safe, locking her inside for safekeeping until he returned. She closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.
* * *
Sara’s six-year-old self stalked up the sidewalk after school with one thing in mind. She would find Mikey Frost and demand a kiss. She would not be shown up by stupid Sally Jacobson!
Her little fists balled up and her face set in a scowl. He’d been avoiding her for three days because he didn’t want to give back her Nintendo Game Boy. Well, she’d get a kiss, and she’d get her Game Boy back, too. Enough was enough. It’d be a productive day even if she had to stand outside his window and howl.
Little legs churning, she marched right up to his house and rapped on the door. A second later his mother answered, her face staring down in puzzlement. “Sara. Where’s your mom?”
“Hi, Mrs. Frost. She’s at school still. She had to talk to my teacher. I have to run errands, though, so I came ahead.”
A grin peeked through Pam’s concerned face. “Run errands, huh? Well, I suppose that’s a better phrase to pick up than the ones my sons seem to. But you walked all the way home? Your mom must be worried sick.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Frost, but I had to. Can Mikey come out and play?”
“Why don’t you come in? I’m sure your mom will look here first.”
