A Special Relationship

by Yvonne Thomas

“You don’t have to be sorry,” she said almost snappishly. “It’s not your fault that Karl was a jerk. I mean, what can I do? I tried. I can’t make no grown man do right.” Then she exhaled. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Karl’s okay. He has some good qualities too, I’ll give him that. But the real problem with Karl isn’t that he’s a cheating dog, although that’s a problem. But the problem with Karl is that he’s not you.” She said this and looked at Robert. Robert looked away from her, toward the kitchen, and then he picked up the menu again.

  “What’s for supper?” he asked.

  ***

  Carrie stayed in the kitchen longer than usual, as she volunteered to help prepare the orders. She couldn’t stop thinking about Robert, however, and that woman he had with him, and if that woman could really be his wife. It wasn’t until she asked if he was married, after all, did he abruptly end their conversation. Before then everything was fine. They were laughing and talking like old friends from way back. But she’d thought about that conversation a million times, and she had concluded over and over that he didn’t act like a married man, that he therefore wasn’t a married man, and her question was just coincidental to his sudden need to get to work. But now, seeing him with that tall beauty queen who could easily pass for a model, made her wonder if she had been thoughtful in her conclusion, or just plain naive.

  Millie Rawlings, who had grabbed a plate of food and was running out of the kitchen as fast as she had run in, looked at Carrie and smiled. “What you daydreamin’ about, girl?” she asked her, but she was gone before Carrie could answer.

  Alphonso, the manager, came into the kitchen holding two drinks he’d just picked up from the bar, and he called for Carrie. Carrie, always the diligent worker, hurried to his side. “Take these drinks to table twelve,” he told her. “Take their order, but then I need you to go and clear off for Lizzie. She’s backed up big time.”

  “Yes, sir,” Carrie said as she grabbed the two cocktails, placed them on a tray, and then hurried out of the kitchen. Her plan was to avoid Robert’s presence as much as possible, even if it meant walking in an around-about way to get to where she was going. But when she realized who was actually sitting at table twelve, she stopped in her tracks, causing another waitress to just miss bumping into her.

  The female was doing all of the talking, Carrie noticed, while Robert seemed to be only mildly listening. His mind seemed somewhere else, as if at any moment he was going to glance at his watch and suddenly excuse himself. But when he looked toward the kitchen area, and ended up looking directly into Carrie’s face, her heart pounded once again, and any composure she thought she was gaining by stopping before proceeding, was shattered.

  Robert’s chest tightened when he looked into those big green eyes again. They weren’t as terror-filled as they had been when he first saw her, but there was still that sadness there.

  Carrie garnered enough nerve to walk up to the table and began placing down the drinks. She even managed to smile. “Here we are,” she said as she sat down one then the other drink. She decided against asking Robert if he remembered her, since chances were he hadn’t even given her a second thought. Besides, his wife would probably not appreciate the inquiry in any event.

  Tyler was still talking to Robert, her mouth going a mile a minute, so Carrie pulled out her pad and waited patiently for her to finish. Tyler, however, suddenly stopped talking and looked at this woman, this intruder at their table. And she wasn’t even attempting to hide her displeasure. “May we help you?” she asked.

  Carrie nervously tucked a few strands of her bob-styled hair behind her small ear before she spoke. Robert exhaled.

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said so nervously that she then cleared her throat. “I was waiting to take your orders.”

  “Then why didn’t you say that? You don’t just stand here getting all into our business like this.”

  Robert looked at Tyler, who had a reputation for being disrespectful to service workers. It always bothered him, but never to this degree. “Let’s just order,” he said.

  “No, now Robert, this is important. I want to know why she felt some grand need to just stand here hovering over us like—”

  “That’s enough, Ty,” he said firmly.

  Tyler stared at him as if she wanted to fire back. “Anyway,” she said, knowing not to push Robert too far or he’d leave her in a heartbeat. “What are we ordering?” she asked him.

  Carrie looked at Robert too, but as soon as his gray eyes so much as glanced her way, her heart fluttered. What was it about this man, she wondered, that caused her to have all of these crazy kinds of feelings every time he just looked at her? Yes, he was impressive. Yes, he was unbelievably handsome. Yes, he was a kind, respectful, good Christian man. But so what? He wasn’t even available, and even if he was there was no way, Carrie knew, that she could even see herself with some white guy like him.

  “We’ll have the baked Tilapia, both with baked potatoes,” he said.

  “Butter and sour cream?” Carrie asked, writing intently to avoid looking at him again.

  “Yes.”

  “Salad, cole slaw, or mashed potatoes?”

  “Salads.”

  “Dressing?”

  “Ranch.”

  “For both?”

  “Yes.”

  “Lite on the dressing,” Tyler instructed Carrie. “If it’s swimming in it we will not hesitate to return it.”

  Carrie nodded, taking down that request too. “Anything else?” she asked them, looking at Tyler this time.

  “That’s it,” Tyler said, and Carrie began to collect their menus. She grabbed Robert’s menu without a problem, trying hard not to so much as look in his eyes. Tyler, however, reached for her glass of wine just as Carrie reached for her menu, and the collision of hands caused the glass to tip over and spill onto Tyler’s beautiful, expensive, eggshell white Chenille pantsuit. Carrie’s heart dropped.

  “No-you-didn’t!” Tyler yelled as she jumped from her seat, the wine draining like a paint brush down the front of her white jacket.

  “Oh, no!” Carrie said nervously, seeing the damage too, as other patrons in the restaurant looked their way.

  Robert stood up and grabbed the overturned, still pouring glass, to try and minimize the damage, but he knew the damage had already been done. He looked at Carrie. As he had suspected, she was nearly frantic with regret. She kept saying “I’m so sorry,” over and over, her sad eyes now wide with worry as she grabbed napkins to see if she could help undo this nightmare she had just caused.

  But Tyler was too angry to even consider Carrie’s help. She slung Carrie’s shaky hand away from her, calling her a “clumsy witch” as she did. But Carrie insisted on helping, believing desperately that dabbing napkins on the stain could lessen its’ impact. Tyler, however, was furious.

  “If you don’t stop touching me!” she yelled angrily and slung Carrie’s small hands away from her again. Robert knew Tyler all too well and moved to get in front of her before that temper of hers really erupted, but he didn’t move fast enough. Tyler, just appalled that some lowly waitress could ruin her evening like this, looked at Carrie with renewed anger and then slapped her hard across the face.

  “Tyler, that’s enough!” Robert shouted angrily and lunged toward her, pulling her back and away from Carrie before she could do further harm. The entire restaurant went silent, watching this live movie, and Alphonso, who had been summoned by his staff, began hurrying to the table.

  Robert, like everybody else in the room, looked at Carrie. And that look on her face did him in. He didn’t see anger there. He didn’t see a woman ready to do as most females in her position would have done and returned Tyler’s insult with a slap of her own. All he saw was disappointment. And sadness. And the kind of deep-seated hurt and pain that no one event could have possibly caused. Tyler’s slap, Robert believed, was just the accumulation of a long road of heartache this young woman had undoubtedly endured.

  Carrie had wanted
to slap Tyler back. She wanted to with all that she had. But she held back. Not because of any great restraint that she had, but because she knew she’d be fired for certain if she fought a customer. “I said I’m sorry,” she said, regulating the emotion in her voice.

  “You’re sorry all right,” Tyler shot back from behind Robert, who now stood between the two ladies. “That’s your problem. You’re lazy and sorry and every other poor excuse for a human being! I can’t stand people like you. Probably did it on purpose anyway.”

  “On purpose?” Carrie said, astonished, her voice now strained, tears beginning to well up in her pretty eyes. Robert’s heart ached for her when he saw the glimmer of tears and all he wanted at that very moment was to pull her into his arms and protect her from barracudas like Tyler Langley for the rest of her life. But who’d protect his heart from her, he wondered, when her true colors were inevitably revealed and she turned out to be not quite the sweet innocent he’d took her for? Gloria had him snowed once too. He had wanted to protect her too. Now he wondered if he hated her.

  Yet, he still felt a need to defend Carrie, to make it clear to Tyler that no way she could believe that the spill was nothing more than an accident. But before he could say a word, the restaurant’s manager was upon them.

  “In the kitchen,” he said to Carrie as soon as he arrived at their table. Then he quickly turned to Tyler and apologized passionately, assuring her that Jetson’s would pay all expenses related to the cleaning or replacement of her pantsuit. Carrie, however, hadn’t moved and Alphonso, not in the mood for this at all, frowned. “I said get in the kitchen, Banks!” he said between clenched teeth.

  Carrie looked at the customers in the restaurant, who were looking at her as if she was a piece of trash that had blown in, the kind of you’re not good enough looks people like her had to deal with all of their lives. Then she looked at Robert. He was the only one in the entire room who had the courtesy to not stare at her. He, in fact, wasn’t looking at her at all.

  But before Alphonso could humiliate her even more than she’d already humiliated herself, she hurried for the kitchen. She could hear Alphonso apologizing to Tyler Langley again and the atmosphere of gaiety in the restaurant beginning to reemerge. Carrie, however, was devastated. She needed this job almost as badly as she needed air to breathe. It was her freedom, her chance to finally begin to live her life without the dominance of her mother around, or the criticisms of her sister, or the demands of men like Dale and Willie Charles who wanted to mold her and make her into what they wanted her to be, regardless of what she wanted. She wanted to never again have to depend on another human being for as long as she lived, that was what she wanted. She wanted her freedom. And she wanted it now. And this simple job, this little nothing low level employment that many would view as no big deal at all, was her chance. That was why she prayed that she didn’t lose it. That was why she prayed that Alphonso would cool himself down, and give her another chance.

  TEN

  They walked to Tyler’s car in a somber mood, as if they’d just witnessed a tragic car wreck. Robert was especially grim, as he couldn’t get that hurt look on Carrie’s face out of his mind. And the way Tyler treated her, as if she as the lowest of the low, made him barely able to remain in her presence. But a quick reality check kept him with her. Her never pretended to be with Tyler because of her winning personality. It was all about the sex.

  Tyler was somber, too, but her somberness had nothing to do with her treatment of that brainless waitress, as she saw Carrie, but she hated that Robert had to see her lose her cool like that. She wanted this man to love her and marry her, not to be repulsed by her. And the way he treated her after the spill, made her certain that repulsed was exactly what he was.

  They had parked their vehicles across the street in a private parking lot because Jetson’s had filled to capacity, but now Tyler was upset about that too. With the prices Jetson’s charged, she noted, they should at least provide adequate parking. Robert looked at her as she complained, and he knew the parking problem wasn’t nearly what annoyed her most.

  Carrie, or that clumsy waitress as Tyler knew her, was on her mind.

  “Get over it, Ty,” he said to her.

  “That’s easy for you to say,” she replied as she looked down, once again, at her outfit. The reddish stain was now prominently displayed on the front of her pantsuit, causing her to walk with her purse in front of her. Robert had insisted that she remain and eat her dinner, and she had agreed, but she still could not abate her anger. It wasn’t the cost that bothered her, it wasn’t even the act itself. It was the sheer gall of that female, who actually had the nerve to try and help clean up the mess when it was her clumsiness that had caused it in the first place. Tyler even wondered, once again, if the witch had done it on purpose.

  “You know better than that, Ty,” Robert asked as he helped her into her car. She closed the door, cranked up, and pressed down the window.

  “No, I don’t either,” she said. “I wouldn’t put it past her. She didn’t like the way I was talking to her, so she tried to get even.”

  “Ty, come on.”

  “It’s the truth. She one of those angry black females who thinks the world owes them a living. I can’t stand people like her!”

  Robert didn’t say anything, which, Tyler knew, meant that she had said too much. She tried to temper her remarks. “Maybe it wasn’t on purpose,” she admitted, “but I still don’t like her.”

  “You’d better get on home,” Robert said, more to end any derogatory words against Carrie than to help his old friend. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Why don’t you come over for a nightcap, Robert?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Why not? We haven’t seen each other in two weeks. We haven’t been together even longer than that, Robert, and you know what I mean.”

  “I’m going straight home tonight, honey. I’ll have to take a rain check.”

  “You’re always taking rain checks.”

  “Well then this one shouldn’t be any surprise to you.”

  “Very cute, Robert,” Tyler said as she looked out across the parking lot. Carrie, to her amazement, was leaving the bus stop where Tyler hadn’t even realized she’d been waiting and was hurrying toward them. “I don’t believe it,” she said.

  “You don’t believe what?” Robert asked her.

  “She’s coming this way!”

  “Who’s coming this way?”

  “That woman!” Tyler said and nodded her head in Carrie’s direction. Robert stood erect when he saw Carrie and then he let out a deep sigh of exhaustion. She was still wearing her Jetson’s uniform and had a small purse swinging loosely at her side, as she was walking in a near run toward them.

  “Why is she coming this way?” Tyler asked frightfully.

  “How should I know?” Robert replied, a little annoyed by Tyler’s sudden dramatics.

  “Good night, Robert,” Tyler said as she began pressing up her window. “I’ll talk to you later!” She slung her stick-shift into gear so fast that her car sputtered with a lurch, then flung ahead.

  Carrie waved her arms, to get Tyler’s attention, but Tyler and her Mustang flew right past her. Carrie then just stood there, disappointed and dumbfounded at the same time, and then she looked at Robert.

  “She had to leave,” he said, embarrassed by Tyler’s display.

  “I just wanted to apologize to her,” Carrie said, the anguish on her face unable to be concealed.

  Robert wanted to tell her not to worry, that Tyler wasn’t worthy of her apology, but he didn’t go there with her. “You already have,” he said instead.

  “I didn’t mean to do it.”

  Robert stared at Carrie, at the concern all over her. “I know.”

  “She thinks I did it on purpose, that’s why she reacted the way she did, but I didn’t do that on purpose, Mr. Kincaid. She was reaching for her glass and I was reaching for the menu and it all just happened. I wou
ld never in a million years try to mess up somebody’s nice clothes like that.”

  “You don’t have to convince me, Carrie.”

  Carrie paused. She didn’t think he’d remembered her. “I just don’t want her to think I’m like that.”

  Robert frowned. “Stop worrying about what she thinks. You can’t control what people think. You apologized to her, that’s all you can do.”

  “Alphonso said, he’s my boss, well, my ex-boss, but he said—”

  “Your ex-boss?”

  Carrie nodded regrettably, as the reality of her new, unemployed circumstance began to sank in.

  “He fired you?”

  “Yep.”

  “But why the devil didn’t you tell him it was an accident, Carrie?” He regretted his tone, as if he was scolding her for something that really wasn’t her fault, but when people push, she’d better learn to push back.

  “I told him it was an accident, I told him over and over, but he didn’t care. He said Jetson’s has a reputation to uphold and he wasn’t letting the likes of me ruin that reputation.”

  “The likes of you?” Robert asked angrily. He was fed up with the racism that seemed so pervasive around town. Not a day would go by when he didn’t hear some derogatory racial slur coming from his so-called peers. Even Tyler showed her bias tonight. It was like a cancer, it seemed to Robert.

  Carrie, however, was accustomed to the cancer. She kept going. “He said because of me they’ve got to pay for damages I caused and if I didn’t hurry up out of his face he was going to take my paycheck and sue me for the rest. I tried to give him my paycheck, I knew I had to pay for what I did, but he just stood there and stared at me. And he wouldn’t take it. But he fired me anyway.”

  Robert stared at her too. He knew he was making her uncomfortable, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Why didn’t she just go back to Georgia, he wondered. Why didn’t she go back to that small town living and that boy who wanted to marry her and make babies with her and live happily ever after with her? Why did she have to come here and haunt him? He had enough haunts in his life, enough to last a lifetime. He wasn’t about to take on anymore.