I Don't Regret You

by Larson, Jodie

  “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but this old lady is hungry. Who wants dinner?”

  Henry stands, patting my knee as he walks away. “Here, I’ll do that. You sit down and relax.” He ushers my mom to take his seat. I nudge Jacob over slightly since my mom isn’t exactly the same size as Henry. She has a little more junk in her trunk.

  “Let me help you,” Dad says, following him into the kitchen. I think he doesn’t want to get stuck in here with us.

  Mom doesn’t say anything at first, just sits quietly while turning her head occasionally in my direction.

  “Things seemed cozy in here,” she finally says.

  I shrug, playing it off. “I was kind of stuck.”

  “It’s a big room. Lots of other places to sit.” She noticed that too.

  “Mom, don’t get your hopes up. We’re friends. And he’s my boss.”

  Her weathered face lightens as she smiles. “Don’t know many bosses who come over to cook for an employee. Or brings their kids for a play date. Has it occurred to you that maybe this is more than what it seems?”

  I glance over to the kitchen and smile as Henry instructs my dad on what to do. Watching him pound the chicken breasts is comical since I don’t have a mallet. I never thought to use my rolling pin, though. Something tightens in my chest as I watch them work together.

  “We’re taking it slow,” I reply.

  Mom follows my gaze. “Don’t go too slow. Otherwise he’ll get snatched up by someone else. A man like that doesn’t stay single for long.”

  “I’m not looking to snatch anyone up. Right now, I want to focus on me and the kids. I’ve made concessions in my life before. Now I want to start over, find a new normal before leaping head first into the unknown.”

  She pats my knee. “I’m just saying to not dismiss the possibility. Things happen for a reason.”

  “I know. I’m just guarding my heart. It’s been beaten up too many times and needs to heal.”

  With a nod, she drops the subject. Until she opens her mouth for one last word. “Remember, when someone offers to help, you say thank you.”

  Help with my life or with my heart? Guess I’ll find out which one she means as we go.

  Having my parents around has been a blessing in disguise. It’s not as awkward as I figured it’d be, though letting my mom micro-manage my life again is something to get used to. I have missed her banana pancakes in the mornings. Anyone who can make me love a fruit I can’t stand the smell of deserves an award.

  “You picked up quite a few shifts at the restaurant.” Mom sets a plate in front of me like I was six-years-old again. Being doted on is nice, and a welcome change.

  “I could use the extra cash this time of the year. My income has been cut in half and Christmas is around the corner.”

  She takes a seat next to me, her own plate piled with golden pancakes covered in blueberry syrup.

  “If you need money, all you have to do is ask. Your dad and I can help you out any way we can.”

  I shake my head. “No, I can’t take your money,” I say around the bite in my mouth. “You and dad worked hard for it.”

  “We did, but I can’t think of a better way to spend it than on our only child when she needs it.”

  They can’t do that. I’ll be okay. Besides, I need to figure this out for myself from now on. I have a meeting with my lawyer, Connor Johansson, next week; the son of one of my dad’s friends. I was glad my dad suggested him. He was able to get Mike to continue paying for half the mortgage, which was a huge relief. But now we have things like spousal and child support to discuss. I don’t want to drag this out any longer than I have to.

  “I’ll be okay.”

  She looks at me, her disappointment evident on her face. “What do I always tell you?”

  I try to school my features to explain without words. “Not this time. I need to do this on my own.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, we’re here for you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” It’s nice to know she’s supporting my decision. Not that it was mine to begin with. I was basically forced into it. But sometimes a surprise can be a blessing in disguise.

  She clears my plate and starts loading the dishwasher. “Take your time coming home tonight. We have the kids.”

  I draw my brows together. “Why would I stay out late?” One thing I’ve learned is my mom is horrible at secrets. “What do you know that I don’t?”

  Red colors her cheeks. Her tell. “Nothing. Just don’t worry about getting home right away.”

  Somehow I don’t believe her ‘nothing’ story.

  The restaurant is booming when I get there at three. With my parents here, I can stay after work with Henry without the constant reminder that our time is limited due to paying for a sitter. It’s been our growing tradition; once everyone leaves, we stay behind and talk. For hours sometimes. And now that I don’t have to pay Heather the extra money, it’s nice. This must be what Mom is trying to get me to do, spend more time with Henry to build whatever it is that’s growing between us.

  I haven’t kissed him since my drunken excursion last week, nor have we brought it up again. If we don’t talk about it, it never happened. And the awkwardness never has to rear its ugly face. I’m content with never talking about it again.

  For now.

  Henry is giving orders in the kitchen, wondering where his sides are while making sure the burgers are done to perfection. I smile, knowing he’s in his element where nothing will go wrong. A perfectionist at work is comical, yet something of beauty. The way he plates or flips the food in the pans is damn near mesmerizing. Definitely not something I could do.

  I start loading my tray with the plates, our eyes catching in the small space between us. He gives me a smile and a wink as I hoist the tray over my shoulder and carry it to my table. The one simple act warms my insides, distracting me from the negative voice in my head. Something that happens more and more when I’m around him.

  The Christmas spirit is out in full force. Multiple tables left me well above a twenty-percent tip. One left me twice the amount of the bill with the words ‘Happy Holidays’ scrawled on the bottom of the credit card receipt.

  “One hour left,” Trinity says behind me. The rack of glasses clinks as she sets it on a stand, ready to be polished.

  “Thank God. My feet are killing me tonight.” I want to reach down and take off my shoe, but that’s not practical or happening right now. It’ll be hours before I get that sort of reprieve.

  “Jocelyn.” Henry comes up beside me, his hat slightly askew on his head. Like he’d taken it off several times to wipe down his face and each time it was getting more and more off-center.

  I turn my head while closing out one of my tickets at the computer. “Yeah?”

  He crooks a finger to me, indicating to follow him back into the kitchen. I resist looking back at Trinity because I don’t know what he wants.

  We walk back to the dishwasher, separating us from the rest of the staff. It’s quiet, except for the loud hum of the machine as it dries the load of dishes inside.

  “There’s a special table coming in a few minutes. I want you to take it.”

  “Me?”

  He nods. “Yes. He’s planning to propose to her tonight so I wanted to make sure I put my best person on it.”

  I can feel my eyes practically bugging out of my head. “Are you crazy? I’m not the best person. Trinity has been here longer. Why not her?”

  “Because I want you.” It’s hard to resist that smile and he knows it, flashing it like a secret weapon. Damn him and his boyish charm. Don’t let the closely-kept beard fool you. He may be five years older than me, but he looks like he could pass for a frat boy. I told him that one night when I discovered how old he really was.

  Panic must show on my face because he grabs my hand, warming it up with his touch. Something about it sends a calming sensation coursing through my veins. It’s more than gentle, more than reassuring. I can’t qu
ite place it. But I’m spending too much time focusing on our connection rather than the words coming out of his mouth.

  “You can handle it. If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t have asked. They’re getting something off-menu, so you don’t have to worry about anything. When they’re seated, serve them a bottle of Prosecco. Don’t ring it in. I’ve worked out a special price with the guy so nothing goes through the computer. I’ll show you how to ring it in later.”

  I nod. It sounds simple enough. “So how will you know when to make everything?”

  “Just come back and say they’re ready. Greg and I have it from there.”

  “Okay.” Doubt laces my words. I’m glad one of us has confidence in me.

  Henry lets go of my hand to brush away a strand of hair that’s fallen from my ponytail. “You’ve got this.”

  My cheeks heat instantly where his hand lies, then cools the minute he pulls away.

  Trinity comes back to find us. “The reservation is here.”

  “That’s your cue.” Before he turns away, he leans close, his lips practically pressing against my ear. “You’ll do great.”

  I swallow hard. A new round of nerves hit me. Henry’s confidence worms its way into my head and I let it, pushing aside my self-doubt. Double-checking my hair and makeup in the mirror at the server station, I grab the bottle of Prosecco from Troy and smile brightly as I walk to the table in the corner.

  A young couple greets me; dressed up for a night out. Her rose-colored dress is immaculate and accentuates her flawless pale complexion and long, dark hair. Green eyes smile back at me as I fill two flutes of the bubbling wine. Her soon-to-be fiancé looks nervous, adjusting his tie every few minutes while pulling at the collar of his light green dress shirt. I’ll give him this much, he definitely has game.

  “Looks like you two are out for a special night.” I bite my lower lip to remind myself to keep the secret.

  The girl looks up, a huge smile plastered on her face. “It’s our two-year anniversary. We had our first official date here so it’s kind of a tradition now.” If you’ve never seen pure love on a face before, hers would be the poster of it. Eyes twinkling, cheeks flushed, fingers twirling in his. Sheer and utter contentment.

  “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.” She nods appreciatively. “I’ll be right back with your salads.”

  I quickly leave them alone, glancing over my shoulder as they kiss tenderly. After letting Henry know they’re ready, I wait for their order, which means my mind has time to wander.

  Have I ever looked at anyone that way before? Better yet, has anyone looked at me? I try, really try, to think back on all the smiles I’ve given and received. Not one compares to hers. I knew my love was one-sided with Mike, but even in those moments, it was never like theirs. She looks at him like he hung the moon. He looks at her like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. It’s amazing the emotions you can read on people just from their eyes and body language. You only need to pay attention.

  After the first course is brought out, I help Trinity polish the glasses so we can get a jump-start on our closing duties. Not many tables are left after the dinner rush, so that helps. We may actually get done on time.

  Roughly.

  Henry calls my name and I walk into the kitchen, ready to take the main course out. Two plates filled with stuffed chicken breasts, smothered in a white Brie sauce, over a bed of rice pilaf. It smells amazing and makes my mouth water. Both look like works of art or something you’d find in a magazine. I don’t know how he does it, but I’m in awe.

  The couple smiles and separates as I set the plates in front of them.

  “Tony! Did you ask them to make my favorite?” The girl places a hand on his cheek, tilting her head to the side. Apparently, this was on the menu on their first date. Henry brought it back solely for them.

  “Only the best for you.”

  I leave to let them eat in private. Too much mushy stuff and my stomach will turn for another reason. As a newly separated woman, it reminds me of how lonely I am.

  Stacy comes up behind me, looking over my shoulder as the couple eats and animatedly talks. “They’re so cute together. One of my favorite couples.”

  “Really?”

  She nods. “Before they started going out, they’d come in here with their group of friends, doing homework or drinks for a night out. Tony would steal glances of Mila whenever he could. She didn’t notice at first, but the more they came in, the more she started to pay attention to what was in front of her. Soon it was just those two without the crowd. And tonight we get to see it all the way through.”

  “That’s so sweet.” Now I feel like shit for being jealous of what they have. But they’re young with their entire lives in front of them. They have time to grow, keep what they have and strengthen it with each passing day.

  I’m past my prime. Not many guys would be interested in a divorced mother of two with nothing much to offer except baggage.

  Once they’re finished, I clear the table and quickly plate up the special dessert Henry put together. Each apple crisp is in its own crock as I drizzle the warm salted caramel on top.

  Mila clutches her stomach with a laugh. “I don’t think I could possibly eat that. I’m stuffed as it is.”

  Tony takes her hand. “We can always take it home.”

  She shakes her head. “Are you crazy? This is warm apple crisp. Like I’d ever say no. But you already knew that,” she says with a wink.

  When I make it back to the server station, I turn and watch, unable to look away. Outside of my own disaster of a proposal, I’ve never witnessed one before. As if in slow motion, Tony halts Mila’s eating by grabbing her hands. His mouth moves slowly, a slight tremble as if the words are hard to get out. The restaurant is empty now, except for the three of us huddled in the doorway looking into the room.

  Tony moves his chair back and walks around hers so they’re facing each other. Her hands fly to her mouth as he gets down on one knee, pulling out a box from his coat pocket. A tear streaks down her cheek as she bobs her head up and down, barely able to raise her voice above a whisper. When he slides the ring on her finger, she leaps from her chair and falls into his arms as he stands.

  “So romantic,” Trinity and Stacy say next to me before turning to leave.

  A hand grazes my lower back, sending a chill up my spine. “They deserve each other.”

  I glance over my shoulder to meet Henry’s lazy smile. “It definitely makes me a little envious.”

  He tilts his head to the side. “How so?”

  Chewing my bottom lip, I turn my attention back to the couple, now seated and kissing like they’re not being watched. “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt like that before. No one has ever looked at me the way he looks at her.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “Positive.”

  Henry turns me to face him. Crooking a finger under my chin, he tilts my head up. “Then you’re not looking hard enough.”

  I blink at him, not sure if I heard him correctly. Looking hard enough? Who is looking?

  Before I have the chance to open my mouth, he drags his finger from my chin and walks back to the kitchen, leaving me with more questions than answers. The kitchen fumes are getting to his head because no one is looking at me.

  Once the newly engaged couple leaves, I clear the remaining dishes from the table, resetting it for the next day.

  “How’d you do?” Trinity looks over my shoulder as I close out the check.

  For the second time tonight, my eyes want to escape the safety of my head. “Holy shit.”

  Trinity grabs my shoulder and bounces. “Man, that’s a sweet tip. Lucky you.”

  One hundred dollars. It was more than the price of their meal. This must be a typo. No one tips more than their bill.

  “This can’t be right.” I look to Trinity, who only smiles.

  “I should have mentioned he’s an excellent tipper.”

  “Yeah, you coul
d have led with that.” The paper shakes in my hand as I finalize the check.

  No one has ever tipped me that much before. I never thought I was that good of a server to warrant a large tip. Sure, I mingle and joke with the customers, treat them with kindness and make sure their experience is a pleasant one, but I would have laughed if you told me I was good at it.

  I just like making people happy.

  It takes us a little longer to clean up than normal, probably because Troy has picked some god-awful shot, which had us all dragging. I don’t know what was in it, but I couldn’t miss the Jack Daniels aftertaste. It took everything in me to choke it down, which only made Troy and Trinity laugh.

  “Aren’t your big girl taste buds in yet? You should be past the rookie college days by now.” Troy slides a glass of water my way as I roll the last of the silverware.

  I narrow my eyes. “Going from drinking occasionally to drinking the hardest stuff I’ve ever had takes time. How did you build up your tolerance?”

  He smirks. “One too many house parties that involved puking in the backyard.”

  “Men.”

  He laughs at my comment and finishes shutting everything down. “Have a good night.” I swivel my head in time to see Troy sling his arm around Trinity. Huh, now there’s an interesting development. She was hell bent on never letting him near her and now she’s getting cozy. Troy’s a good guy, but our obvious age difference makes it hard to relate. When I was twenty-four, I had two kids already and was married. Our situations are a little different.

  Henry walks in as everyone else leaves. It’s the same thing every time, almost like he doesn’t want us to be caught together. Sliding a glass of white wine in front of me, he takes his usual seat.

  “How was your night?”

  I place the last of the silverware in the basket and face him. “Incredible. Tony was so generous with his tip. I wanted to run out there and hug him but he was already gone.”