“I should warn you,” he said as he drove, raising his eyebrows. “It’s a bit bizarre-looking.”
“The French toast?”
“No. The restaurant.”
He wasn’t kidding. When we pulled in five minutes later, all I could focus on was the giant pink flamingo tacked to the front of the building. It was super-shiny, as if someone had just popped a fresh coat of hot pink paint on it.
“What is this place?” I asked as I squinted at the flamingo decoration. It didn’t appear to be fastened to the building very well.
Ethan laughed. “It’s called Flamingles.” He pointed to the sign above the flamingo.
“Is it supposed to be spelled like that?” I cocked my head to the side, trying to see if I was reading it correctly.
“Yep. It’s actually based off the owners’ last name. They’re very sweet, even if they do have a tacky taste in decor.”
Ethan held the door open for me, and I was happily surprised to find that the inside wasn’t as tacky. They hadn’t replaced the chairs with flamingo lawn ornaments. The walls did, however, have flamingo wallpaper.
“Hey, buddy.” A young guy at the host stand acknowledged Ethan while grabbing a few menus. “Haven’t seen you in a hot minute.”
“Mitch, hey.” In typical Ethan fashion, he clapped him on the shoulder. “I don’t get out much, but my student and I were doing volunteer work nearby and decided to stop in for breakfast.” The host gave me a head nod, which I returned with the warmest smile I could muster. I was suddenly overthinking everything. Ethan was pretty open and honest about who I was and what we were doing. I couldn’t help but feel a slight sinking feeling in my stomach because he wasn’t trying to keep me a secret as if we were on some sort of forbidden date.
“You okay?” Ethan asked after we got situated in our booth. I wondered if he was mentally keeping track of how often he had to ask me that on a daily basis.
“Fine.” I buried my face in the menu, thankful for something to do. A few pages in, I found the insert that had all the stuffed French toast options. They ranged from the sweet, like bananas foster, to the savory, like maple bacon, to the downright weird.
“There’s a root beer float flavor?” I scrunched up my nose as I peered over my menu at Ethan.
He laughed. “Before you knock it, you should know it’s not that bad.”
“Oh my God, you tried it?” I made a face.
“Don’t be dramatic.” He made a face back at me. “It’s literally just root beer extract inside the bread, and it’s topped with ice cream. Breakfast and dessert in one--what more could you want?”
Mitch appeared a beat later. Since he’d really talked up the exotic French toast selection, I was slightly disappointed that Ethan ordered the regular French toast and a side of bacon.
I raised my eyebrows and stared straight at him as I asked for the root beer float French toast.
After handing my menu over, I made a sneaky comment to the waiter. “If he thinks he’s getting any of mine, he’s crazy.”
The waiter laughed. “I’ll bring only one fork, then.”
“I guess you’re eating with your hands.” I smiled at Ethan. I was surprised to find how easily conversation flowed between us. I had to keep reminding myself that he was a teacher and I was his student. I shook any and all inappropriate thoughts from my head as I listened to him explaining why he’d gone to visit Jenna. Apparently he had made a promise that he would care for his students in whatever capacity they needed so that they could succeed. That solved the mystery of what he was doing at the diner with me. I was just someone that he saw needing help, and he was just being the all-around good guy that I’d come to know.
I learned several things about Ethan while we were waiting for our food. For one thing, he grew up close to Iver Grove. He moved away for college and came back almost three years previously, after graduation. That put him right around the age of twenty-five. He collected goofy socks from the internet. “Typically just the ones that pop up in online advertisements...which is a bunch.” Other than that, he didn’t say too much about his private life. He didn’t have a ring, and the last thing I could envision myself doing was asking if he had a girlfriend. So I left it at that.
Ethan was telling me how his previous year’s senior class had gotten him a pair of socks with his face imprinted on them as an end-of-the-school-year gift. He wasn’t sure if they had been trying to tell him he smelled, or if it had been a genuinely meaningful gift. Knowing kids at our school, I wasn’t so sure either.
“Holy cow.” Mitch had just given me a huge stack of fluffy French toast complete with a scoop of ice cream and what appeared to be some sort of root beer drizzle.
I looked over at Ethan’s plate and smirked, a smirk that he caught.
“I see you judging.” He started cutting up his French toast in pieces. “I may seem a little crazy at times, but most of the time I like things to be plain.” I laughed. He definitely did not fit the bill of ‘a bit crazy.’ He was probably the most grounded person I’d come in contact with.
“Oh my God, this amazing.” I covered my mouth as I chewed. “I’m so sorry...” I trailed off.
“Was that English?” Ethan poked fun at me.
I swallowed. “Sorry, that was rude of me. I just couldn’t wait to tell you how good this is.”
I saw Ethan eyeing my French toast. “Oh no, you don’t,” I said, grabbing the caddy from the end of the table and shifting it to the middle to make a wall between our two plates. I poked my head around the side and gave him a quick glare.
“You’re ridiculous.” He shook his head as he took another bite of his French toast. “It’s probably too sweet anyways.”
“It’s actually perfect.”
“Oh yeah?” In one swift movement, he slid the caddy back to the end of the table and jabbed a piece of my French toast on his fork.
The nerve. Without even thinking, I grabbed his wrist. His fork fell from his hand with a loud clatter on the table as something passed between us. What that was, I didn’t know, and I was suddenly terrified to find out. I released my fingers right away as he pulled back.
“Sorry.” He awkwardly looked back down at his plate.
“Here.” I grabbed his plate, pulled it closer to mine, and scooped several pieces of mine onto his. “I was just messing with you.”
We finished our breakfast fairly quickly, needing to get back to Jenna in time. Once Mitch dropped off the check, I followed Ethan to the front counter to pay.
I recognized the woman standing behind the counter as the owner, Mrs. Mingle herself. After all, her picture was on the back of every menu, and I hadn’t seen fiery red hair like that on anyone else. She was chewing on a toothpick as we approached.
After fighting briefly over who would pay, I gave up and grabbed a mint from the small container perched at the end of the counter.
Next to the mint container was a glass jar stuffed with ten- and twenty-dollar bills.. There was also a decent amount of change pooling around the bottom. Huh. I raised my eyes, finding the attached photograph, which showed a blonde-haired girl. She was a few years older than me, as evidenced by the few wrinkles lining parts of her face. She had high cheekbones and red lipstick made all the more evident by her wide smile.
I squinted my eyes and leaned in closer until I was almost nose-to-nose with her. I couldn’t pull myself away from her eyes. Her picture seemed to have some sort of power over me, as if it challenged me to leave, knowing full well that I couldn’t.
Her strange spell was suddenly broken by Mrs. Mingle.
“Tragic.” She made a tut-tutting noise as she handed Ethan back his change. “That was one of our regulars, Dylan Dwyer.”
I wondered what had happened to Dylan. I knew she was dead, not just some poor girl raising funds for something she needed.
“She died in a car accident several months back. We’re hoping to raise some sort of funds to get an advertising scholarship set up in her honor.
”
I nodded. “That’s very sweet. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“It was tough. Always such a sweet spirit inside a fiery exterior. You know?” Mrs. Mingle was studying me, leaning so far over the counter so that her curly hair was just inches from my arm. “She looks quite a bit like you.”
I looked back at Mrs. Mingle and back towards the picture. Dylan did look like me. I leaned in towards it once again. We had the same gold specks in our eyes, only noticeable if you leaned in close or if the light caught them in just the right way.
What the hell? The girl in the picture, this Dylan person, had the same mole on her nose that I had on mine. I wanted to suddenly reach out and grab the picture, rip it into a tiny thousand pieces and scatter them throughout the air. My fingertips were suddenly buzzing, a strange sensation running through them as if every last vein in my hands was on fire. I wanted to smash the glass jar, pick it up and toss it as hard against the wall as I could. Above all else, I was suddenly angry. “No,” I whispered, backing up and away from the jar. “No.” I said it more forcibly this time as I backed up right into Ethan who was standing behind me.
“No what?”
I couldn’t respond. Mrs. Mingle’s wrinkles were etched deep with concern as her eyes narrowed in on me. A busser nearby was staring at me while absentmindedly wiping the same spot over and over on the table. I needed to get out of there. Ethan was blocking the exit. My body was inches from his.
“Abigail?” For being so close, his voice was so far away. It was as if he was underwater. Or was I underwater? He was looking down at me, the wrinkle on his forehead deepened and his eyes widened with concern.
I needed to get out of there. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t push him. My arms were too heavy to even lift up to rub away the dull ache that was forming in my eyes. And then everything was closing in at once. The last thing I remembered was Ethan’s arms reaching out to catch me as I collapsed.
CHAPTER 18
Somewhere off in the distance was the sound of children’s laughter. It was such a welcome sound of unbridled joy that I just wanted to lie there forever and listen to the rise and fall as their laughs died out and started back up again each time something funny was said.
I snapped back to reality as the laughing died down yet again. What were those children doing laughing obnoxiously like that in a restaurant, and where were their parents?
My eyes flew open. Gone were the tables and tacky flamingo decorations reminiscent of a Florida gift shop. In their place was snow that stretched for miles and miles. I was back. This time, there were no trees, no homes with warm glowing windows, and no animals trotting along. I was alone. Except for the sound of the laughter.
Had I died again?
The laughter grew closer, yet still there was nothing around for miles except the pure white snow. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something. Three figures were skipping towards me. They were three little girls, all wearing flamingo-pink parkas and white hats with fuzzy pom-poms on them. The pom-poms bobbed in perfect unison as they skipped literally right through me.
I turned around and they were gone. Glen, however, was standing there. He didn’t speak, nor did he make any effort to move towards me.
“Where’d the kids go?” I asked Glen after a beat of silence.
“Ah.” A peaceful smile formed on Glen’s face, as if he was recalling a fond memory. “They were never really there.” Of course they weren’t. Things didn’t have to make sense in heaven.
“The person before you was a day-care teacher, and she didn’t care about what her heaven looked like, so long as it was filled with the laughter of children.”
I was beginning to learn that each time I arrived in my heaven someone else’s heaven would be fading away. It was like an endless cycle of beauty and misery all wrapped into one.
Glen moved closer so that he was standing directly in front of me, an arm’s length away.
“Am I dead again?” I needed to get that question off my chest.
“No. Not dead. Let me explain, since there isn’t much time.” He ran his hands through his hair, which seemed thinner than before. I wondered briefly if the stress of caring for me was causing it to fall out.
“People sometimes get sent back here when life on earth gets too overwhelming, too scary, so they feel they can’t go on. That’s why we’re here. To comfort and calm. Of course, millions of people have these thoughts every day, so heaven is constantly evolving into something else, whether that be a classroom, a circus, or a snowy winter scene.”
I nodded. Glen was on a roll, and I knew better than to ask any questions.
“While it’s not frowned upon for you to return per usual, I’m technically not supposed to be here with you. It can really mess things up for you by leading you to question the line between reality and the beyond.”
“The beyond,” I repeated after him, raising my eyebrows, which he seemingly ignored. I was beginning to learn that Glen didn’t really give a shit about the rules.
“I think…” I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. “I think I saw the person that I used to be before. Or the person that I am?” I wasn’t sure of anything anymore, but Glen, Glen was the one who knew everything, and if I could just get these answers out of him, I would be okay. “Am I Dylan Dwyer?”
He wasn’t looking at me, choosing to stare down at the snow. I knew there wasn’t anything interesting there. Everything was the same. It was always the same there.
“Who am I, Glen?” I lowered my voice, afraid to ask any louder.
“You’re Abigail.”
“So I’m not this Dylan person?” I reiterated.
“I wish there was an easy way to explain this. You’re not supposed to have any sort of run-in with your former self. Unfortunately for you, your two selves were in close proximity, closer than we’ve ever had to deal with.” Glen stopped to rub his eyes, as if he was the one exhausted over all of this. “It brings back repressed memories. We try so hard to make you into one person but sometimes your memories get tangled. Seeing who you were before only complicates things.”
This was entirely too much information for one person to take in. My head felt like it was going to explode which seemed to be a common theme these days.
Glen pushed on, unaware of the fact that I was now rubbing my temples. “So while yes, you are Abigail. You were someone before her just like Abigail was someone previously. In time, you will forget all about having a former identity.”
And then what, I wondered. Would I move on again after I completed my purpose? Was life just a never ending cycle of souls entering new bodies? I couldn’t handle this.
“SHUT UP,” I screamed as loudly as I could, putting my hands over my ears to cut off Glen who was now rambling about déjà vu and how the notebook helps. I wasn’t sure what had come over me, but I didn’t want to hear anything more. I didn’t want to be there anymore. I didn’t even care that I was telling some holy being to shut it.
“You okay?” he asked in response. Such an odd thing to ask of someone who had just told him to shut up.
I shook my head no. I felt like I was ready to cry, but no tears were forming, and I wondered briefly if perhaps they didn’t exist there.
“I’m just sad,” I said, my eyes finally making contact with Glen.
“Ah. That’s life, though, isn’t it?”
“Or is it death?” I asked.
“There’s not much time,” Glen said quickly. A wind had already picked up, and the snow was beginning to swirl around my ankles, moving farther and farther up until it almost completely obscured my view of Glen.
“Am I going to die again?” I yelled out. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see Glen’s face when he gave his answer. When I opened them, Ethan was hovering above me. “Oh, thank God,” he yelled before turning to yell at a guy on his cell phone behind him. “She’s up.”
He looked back down at me. “No, you’re not going to die...again.”
&
nbsp; “Glen?” I looked around. I was lying on the floor of the restaurant. Ethan’s balled-up jacket was under my head, and a cup of water was placed next to me.
“Did you still want the ambulance?” the guy behind Ethan asked, waving his phone back and forth in a frantic manner.
I sat up, taking a few sips of water. I felt okay.
“I feel okay,” I said out loud.
“Hold off for now,” Ethan told the stranger before kneeling down next to me. “You don’t have to get up until you’re ready.”
“How long was I out for?”
“10 seconds tops?” Ethan said. Gosh, it had felt a lot longer than that. I remembered what Glen said about needing to switch heavens in a matter of seconds. It made sense.
“How’s your head? I did my best to catch you before you fell, but I feel like I might have bent your neck a little funny.” He gave me a sort of sad smile, and my heart did a flip. He had caught me.
“You okay to stand?” He stood up, extending his hand to me. I got up without taking it.
“You should probably call your dad.”
“Oh. Right.” I took my phone out from my pocket. “Crap.” I turned it towards him. My phone was now shattered on top of being completely dead like before.
“Your phone is prone to breaking, huh?” He was already handing his phone back to me. “Use mine.”
I spoke to Dad briefly. His voice was full of concern as he asked if he should rush home. I told him that I was fine and I’d be home soon. I was already dreading what I’d have to tell Jenna, but, as if reading my mind, Ethan told me he’d take care of it.
“And Dad said I shouldn’t need to go to the hospital. I guess I’m prone to fainting,” I said as we headed to the exit doors.
“You guess?” He paused to look at me quizzically.
“I mean, I am. Sorry.” Ethan pushed the door open for me. “Actually, can I meet you at the car? I want to make sure I didn’t drop anything.”
I watched him, making sure he was inside the Jeep before I turned back around. Mrs. Mingle was nowhere to be found. The excitement of a girl in a fainting spell had died down. The two people who lagged behind when it happened had now disappeared as well.
If Heaven Had Cheese Fries Page 19
