Lincoln
On Saturday, we went to Nina’s workplace. That was another mystery. A cupcake shop? It was… charming. It made me think of a garage sale having an identity crisis and deciding it was better off as a café, but it somehow worked. It was chaos, nostalgia, and sweetness in one place. Reality Bites bursted with personality and uniqueness. Crooked lamps, spray-painted chairs, and threadbare couches cluttered the place like relics. A wall held happy memories of customers enjoying the shop’s goods. Any and every item had a place there, giving meaning to everything everyone else has discarded.
I thought at the lack of photos in my apartment, Ihaddiscarded the value of memories and warmth. All I could do was wait for the bomb that would make my memories explode, and ignore the sinking feeling that remembering would just mess everything up.
“Who’s this?” A woman who looked about Nina’s age, with short pink-and-teal hair, scrunched her nose when she saw me.
“Lynnie, this is Lincoln,” Nina explained, grabbing an apron and wrapping it around her waist.
“Lincoln?” Lynnie’s eyes widened. “TheLincoln?”
She knew about me, Nina hadtalkedabout me. Obviously, our relationship hadn’t been going as bad as I thought.
I approached her and extended my hand. “The one and only, Nina’s man.”
Lynnie ignored it, rolling her eyes. “The insufferable one.”
“And you’re the failed hair experiment. Unless you’re going for the lollipop look, in which case, nailed it.” I gave her a lopsided smile, dimples on display, then saw Nina’s face.Shit.
Nina exhaled, tilting her eyes up to the ceiling, and took Lynnie’s side. “Lincoln, she’s my boss. Apologize.”
“I’m yourfriend,” Candy Girl countered.
“Not with that hair you’re not.” The words were out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying.
Nina didn’t even acknowledge them, waiting for my apology. She was used to this side of me. Oh well, I shrugged. “Friends get the especial Lincoln treatment. I’m charming that way.”
“Lynnie, can we just get to work?”
Lynnie’s squinting eyes said it all. She didn’t trust me one bit. She’d almost let it go when she shifted her hips. “Why the leopard-print glasses?”
Nina shrugged. “Light sensitivity, and pink is his favorite color. It does wonders for his skin tone.”
Lynnie eyed me through her glasses. “You’re not going to collapse, are you? That would be bad for business.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets, one shoulder hitching in a lazy shrug. “No promises—I thrive on chaos,” I said, the corner of my mouth curving up.
Lynnie rolled her eyes and went behind the counter. “I actually think I have something of yours, Lincoln.” She came back with a phone. “I kept it charged for you.”
She gave it to Nina just as the screen lit up. They both looked down, sharing amused expressions—an inside joke I wasn’t in on.
Nina scoffed. “Yeah, that tracks,” she said, walking up to me. “This is definitely yours.”
She extended her hand to give me the device, our fingers grazing, and her forearms tensed at the touch. Glancing at it, I didn’t remember it, but the weight and width felt familiar in my hand. I tapped at the screen, and a picture came up. A blond guy with a smirk and killer dimples I’d learned to recognize as myself. He looked old and stupid.Who has a selfie as their screensaver?No pictures of Nina at home, but I apparently wanted to look at myself every time I grabbed my phone. Touching the screen prompted a code I didn’t know, but it unlocked with my fingerprint. Notifications came up. Repeated missed calls and texts from someone named Natasha. A few texts from Vinny. Hundreds of unopened emails. Unsurprisingly, nothing from Dad. Fucking sad.
Nina’s voice jostled me out of it. “I have to start my shift. Lincoln, take a seat, get comfortable. Today’s a long one.”
I headed toward the comfiest armchair—bright green. Lynnie and Nina worked seamlessly, serving, cleaning, or brewing so no customer waited longer than five minutes. Every once in a while, if a lull hit, they’d circle back to each other and whisper, Lynnie’s head close to Nina’s, Candy Girl glancing at my table. My girl, though, always kept her distance so they wouldn’t touch. It wasn’t just me, but I made it worse for sure.
I scanned through my phone, not so much trying to trigger memories as much as attempting to make sense of the person I was supposed to be. There were pictures of Vin and me at sports games or clubbing. I found a folder on a separate homescreen.Nina.Candid shots. I watched her grow from girl to woman through the images. The dates showed a gap of about five and a half years. She looked beautiful in all of them, even if exhausted more often than not. She’d lost weight since the most recent picture over two months ago.
Someone cleared their throat beside me, snapping me out of it. The rush had died down, and Nina was cleaning things up in the kitchen. I spotted her shiny black hair as she moved around.
“Hey.” It was Candy Girl. “Nina says she’s staying with you for the time being.” Lynnie rested her hip on the table in front of me, arms crossed over her chest.
“You want to say something, say it,” I said, leaning back.
“I’m not supposed to give you a hard time. Apparently, you don’t remember, so it’s pointless.” She looked around, checking for Nina.
