“How come?”
He reached for the fork, and his hand brushed against mine, a light-reddish hue rising to his cheeks. Then he withdrew and rubbed the inside of his elbow. “You’ve lost weight. You need to eat, even if you don’t like it.” His jaw tensed, as if he’d remembered something and he added, “At least a bit.”
I’d lost weight? If he was remembering, he’d behave the way he used to. This wasn’t it, though. Post-accident Lincoln was confused and confusing. It wasn’t a full one-eighty, though, old Lincoln was here, right beneath his amnesia. How he’d shut Natasha down, exhibit A. I’d seen his words disarm and hurt countless times. Only he’d never used them toprotectme. This Lincoln who tore out people for my benefit was more… unsettling than his caveman-like “I’m gonna make you mine” declarations.
“By the time I was fifteen, my mom was too weak to stand up and cook.” Lincoln elaborated. “After she passed, it was just too sad, you know?”
Everyone at school knew Lincoln’s mom had passed after an excruciating battle with cancer. I’d heard all kinds of rumors, even during senior year, way over a year after her passing. The difference was, Iknewbetter than to believe rumors. The walls between our houses were thin; the yelling and crashing from his side weren’t rumors.
“You remembered her recipe?” I asked, struggling with how his amnesia worked.
“I suppose. It was kind of muscle memory, but it’s also before my memories are gone. Sometimes, I think I must remember everything right up until meeting you.”
I ignored the hollow in my stomach clawing at me. Meeting me had meant so little to him that it was thestartof his amnesia. But for me, it had cracked something open. If my life had been on fire after I’d lost my parents, Lincoln doused it in gasoline and threw a match on it. The consequences of meeting him were so monumental I was still living them.
“Please, do the honors,” Lincoln said.
I bit into the waffle, eager to fill my belly with anything other than a sinking feeling. An explosion of crunchy gooeyness and chocolate overpowered the emptiness right away.
“Lincoln, this is amazing.” I moaned around the words, digging in for another bite.
I hoped to see him light up at getting the recipe right. He was eating, but there was no comfort or enjoyment in this childhood treat for him.
“Your mom would be proud.”
Anyone who’d lost a parent would know the weight of those words. I couldn’t give him the fantasy he wanted, but it cost me nothing to give himsomething. Making a waffle recipe and knowing he got it right was the closest he’d ever get to his mom again. I wanted to give that to this version of him.
“I wouldn’t mind eating this every day. For as long as I’m here.” I tried to lighten the mood.
Lincoln gave me a soft, sad smile. “I’m glad you feel that way.” He paused. “I wanted to talk to you about you living here.”
“Oh.”
The feeling returned. This was the part where he told me he’d realized we weren’t together and needed me to get the fuck out so he could fix things with Natasha. Vinny’d be back in one week.I knew this stupid plan to save me a buck had been a bad idea. I shouldn’t have given up my apartment.
Pushing past the stress and forcing myself to take deep breaths, I added, “It makes sense. You’re doing much better and don’t really get dizzy anymore. I can leave soon?—”
“No, you misunderstand. I wanted you to stay with me regardless. We can be roommates at least until you get back on your feet. I can’t sleep thinking of you moving somewhere with mold, no air filter, and HVAC issues.” He dragged his hand past his face and over his hair. “Please, just stay. At least until you decide what’s next for you. No strings attached, I swear. Think about it, promise?”
Vinny was unreliable at best, fickle his middle name. Staying with Linc had been surprisingly… peaceful, except for Natasha’s visit, and I think that took more out of Lincoln than me. Maybe…. I ran through my numbers. Three months and no corporate job, no medical insurance. There was no way to pay rentandmedsandinsurance with these sidegigs, so I nodded.
Then the thick consistency of the waffle batter being scraped into the sink merged back with the red velvet batter I was mixing. Lincoln’s voice from the other side of Reality Bite’s kitchen pulled me out of my thoughts. “I know we’re closed, but there’s someone outside insisting on talking to you, Nina.”
I looked at Lynnie, and she nodded. Lincoln trailed my steps until I made it to the door. Scary Weird Carmen stood outside. Pumps, pencil skirt, and satin blouse, maybe a size too small for her chest. Her ashy-blonde hair was styled in unruly curls, unlike the straight and silky strands I’d seen before. The red lipstick popped against her darker skin, adding to her confidence. It screamed she was out of fucks to give.
She waited ’til I unlocked the door, then pushed her way into Reality Bites, her smile was edgy and maybe a tad warmer when she saw Lincoln behind me.
“I’m glad Natasha didn’t manage to get you guys at each other’s throats,” she said. “I could tell she was looking for trouble.”
“And who are you?” Lincoln cut in.
“I’m Carmen Camacho,” she responded. “I took Nina’s job. Natasha has a lot to say about that too.”
I narrowed my eyes on her. Did she know about Infinity Weddings? She’d tilted her head at Natasha when she first came to Reality Bites, even before the accident. The gesture was too pointed, her eyes locked on me, as if she was trying to let me in on a secret I had no way of knowing.
“What are you trying to say?” Lincoln asked, tension bleeding in his tone.
“Settle down, boy.” She made a clicking noise to go with it, then added, “I come in peace.”
