“Take a seat wherever you want, hun!” the toothless waitress called out with a gummy grin.
Amanda fell into a booth and tugged the helmet off her head. Shooting a look over her shoulder, she muttered, “Hannah’s still alive?”
“Seems to be,” I agreed, tipping the ceramic mug up to indicate the need for coffee. “I’m as surprised as you.”
This was it. The memories of better times swirled in the air. Our place felt like a time capsule. Nothing had changed. Hell, the grease in the fryers was probably the same vat of swill from a decade ago.
I hoped against hope that the years apart fell away. In this moment, sitting at the same booth, we could be the girl and boy who’d once been crazy for each other. No prison sentence, no vile family secrets. Just…us.
Amanda turned back. Those blue eyes caught mine. They were wide and open. The emptiness that I’d seen when I watched her in New York wasn’t there right now.
As if she was embarrassed that she let me look into her soul, she blushed and dropped her gaze. Smoothing a hand over her hair, she shook her head. “I can’t believe I let you drag me out here.”
“It wasn’t like you could ever say no. It’s tradition.”
Amanda hummed, turning over her mug as Hannah appeared with a coffee pot. The waitress poured the strong, oily liquid into the mugs.
“Need a minute?” She gestured to the menus with a jerk of her hairy chin.
“Nah, one short stack and one tall. Extra butter on both,” I ordered, reaching for the sugar canister as I smiled at Hannah.
“Coming right up.”
My fingers found flesh.
I jerked in surprise, realizing that Amanda had reached for the sugar at the same time. This time, the combined weight of our stare was a clash. We sat there, looking into one another without reservation. Past and present collided. Our fingers were the starting point, and a tangible energy flowed between us.
I let out a ragged breath. Cavolo, this woman had the power to slay me.
Amanda snatched her hand back, dropping it in her lap. I bit back a growl, hating that she continually rebuffed me. I snared the sugar in a vicious grip, defying the greasy coating to let it slip from my touch. I poured a healthy dose into my mug. Setting it between us, I plucked my spoon and gave the inky liquid a vicious stir.
Amanda reached for the sugar. She lifted it up, considered it, and then sprinkled some in hers.
She used to dump in more than me.
How time had changed. She used to eat whatever, whenever. Through the time spent watching her, I noticed how careful she was about her food choices. It made me wonder if something happened to make her change or if she just wasn’t the same girl she’d been ten years ago.
At least she hadn’t fought me about the pancake order.
Taking a small sip, Amanda choked. “Garh, that’s vile.”
I took a sip and smirked. “Yeah, it is.”
This felt good. This feltright.
“Vincenzo, what are we doing?” Amanda sighed.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I tried another sip of the coffee and grimaced, ignoring Amanda’s head shake.
The small picture was that I was taking my wife out for pancakes. The big picture? I was going to show her we were right for one another. It had always been us.
Two plates of steaming pancakes were set on the table.
“Well, the portion sizes here didn’t shrink with inflation,” Amanda muttered.
The fluffy things were eighteen inches in diameter at least. Three on my plate, one on hers.
“Buon appetito.” I saluted her with fork and knife.
