The reply came back immediately:Too late. Silver alert is out and the fuzz is hot on my tail. ButI just filled the tank. With some fuel-efficient driving and a little prayer,I think I can make it to Tijuana. Meet me there,mi amor. Ishall be waiting for you.
I laughed but didn’t reply back.
‘No phone on the floor, Tommy.’ Morgan dumped off the last batch of polished silverware she didn’t need with a smirk. ‘Who are you grinning and googly-eyed about?’
‘I am not googly-eyed.’
She flicked her fingers in my face. ‘Ya googly.’
I swatted her away. ‘Do you need me for anything else? Or am I free to go?’
She scanned the empty dining room, where only Mackenzie and Katie were folding napkins. The slow brunch service was over, and the other servers were probably at one of the service stations on their phones like me or finishing their chores in the kitchen.
‘Nah, you’re free to go. See you at Gabe’s?’
‘Yeah, Brad’s waiting to drive me over now.’
‘Googly.’
‘You heading there like … this?’ I frowned and motioned to her hosting outfit. She pinched my arm.
‘Shut up, bye.’
‘Byeeeeeeee.’ I held theEall the way through the salad bar and past the servers on their phones at the FDR service station.
I’d managed to get a doctor’s note saying I could return to work earlier than planned since my physical therapy was going well. It was mid-June and my seventh shift back, and while my fingers were still tight, and trembled when I tried to make a fist, they were perfect for holding trays. Also, I looked super classy when I kept the ring and pinky finger up while placing dishes and removing utensils.
I still wasn’t able to work in the kitchen and probably never would be here. They weren’t even letting me KS, and the lemon cutting was now a kitchen job, so I’d ruined that for everyone. The kitchen support staff was one second-degree oil burn away from not being able to fry the frozen French fries anymore.
I waved goodbye to everyone in the kitchen and made my way out to the loading dock, but Brad’s car wasn’t there.
I called him.
‘Hello, darling?’
‘Are you really driving to Mexico?’
‘No, I’m out front.’
‘Ugh, go around back. I’m at the loading dock.’
‘Come around front. I’m at the front.’
‘I’ve been on my feet all day,’ I whined but was already heading back into the building.
‘Tommy, it’s three p.m.’
‘You’re the worst non-boyfriend-boyfriend I’ve ever had.’
‘I’m the only non-boyfriend-boyfriend you’ve ever had.’
‘Oh, honey … if you only knew.’
‘Wait … What?’
Non-boyfriend-boyfriend was our pseudo title. We weren’t officially boyfriends yet, but we weren’t not-boyfriends, either. I hung up with a smile on my face as I headed through the private dining room and ran right into Willa and Al. My smile grew.
‘Where are you folks off to?’ I asked.
