“Booth, please.”
“One menu?” she inquired as she reached for the slot in the podium that had the menus.
“I’m meeting someone here soon.”
She smiled and picked up two menus and led me to a booth by a window. I quickly looked at the position of the booth seats. Both were against the window and both had people in front and behind them. I hadn’t thought that I would feel so stressed out by having people sitting behind me that I couldn’t see, but the fact that I had my back to people bothered me some. Reluctantly, I sat in the seat that was facing the entrance. At least here I would be able to keep the bulk of people in front of me.
“Can I get you something to drink while you’re waiting?” she asked and glanced at the sores around my mouth. I felt self-conscious about my face and realized that she probably thought I was some druggie kid running the street. I didn’t have any money, and as much as I didn’t want to, I ordered water.
“Just water please,” I requested.
After she walked away, I tried to look out the window, but almost instantly I had to look away. Even though it was just a light drizzle, I could still see the faint water lazily falling from the sky. Without really reading or seeing what was on the menu, I focused on it to keep me from looking outside. As soon as the glass of water was set on the table and she walked away, Jeffrey came in. He smiled when he saw me and headed in my direction.
“Hi, Brandon,” he greeted as he approached the table.
“Hi,” I said and quickly reached for the side of my mouth while looking down. I peeked up and could tell that Jeffrey was looking at me.
“Can I get you something to drink while you’re looking at the menu?” the server asked Jeffrey as she walked toward the table.
“Iced tea, please,” Jeffrey answered. The server quickly left the booth, and I looked at the glass of water as Jeffrey slid the glass toward me. “Here, have some water.”
I looked around the table and by the menus for a straw. Drinking from a glass was still painful because it pulled on the holes that were slowly healing.
“I can’t yet. I need a straw. The wounds on my mouth get pulled too much,” I explained.
“I’m sorry, Brandon. What did they do to you?” he asked calmly just as the server returned with his iced tea. “Could we get a couple straws?” Jeffrey asked. The server retrieved a couple paper-wrapped straws from her apron and asked if we were ready to order. “We need a few minutes, please,” Jeffrey answered.
I pulled my straw from the wrapper, pushed it into my water, and took a few sips. After my walk in the humidity and panicked sprint to escape the rain, the water was heaven.
“What happened to your mouth?” he pressed for an answer.
“They pierced my bottom lip and top lip closed so I wouldn’t talk or make noise. I could only open it just a little to eat now and then. The doctor gave me an ointment to put on it, and it’s helping. Today is actually the first day that I was able to leave the bandages off. I’m sorry if it’s distracting to look at.”
“Brandon, no, it’s okay. I just feel terrible. I’ve been looking for you everywhere almost every day. I was checking with police, shelters, and hospitals. I had a private investigator looking too. I even started following your social media accounts to see if there had been any activity.”
Jeffrey pulled out his phone and opened Instagram to my account. Staring back at me were pictures of my goofy socks I would wear, food, my BMW, my ribbons from high school track. I was nowhere near the same person that I once was. I felt the tears filling my lower eyelid, and I looked down at the paper napkin in my lap.
“I looked for you all the time.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
The server was hovering, and Jeffrey pushed the menu closer to me.
“What would you like, Brandon?”
“Nothing. I’ll just have the water,” I replied.
Even though James had shown me where he left me a few twenty-dollar bills, there was no fucking way that I would ever take it without talking to him. He called it emergency money for when he wasn’t home. But I’d never take his money. I wanted him to know that I was trustworthy and not some animal.
“Let me pick up the tab, Brandon. What would you like to eat? Let’s get some meat back on those bones of yours.”
Jeffrey reached across the table and opened the menu in front of me and pointed to the soup section.
“The soup would be easy for you to eat. What kind looks good to you?” he asked.
I quickly looked at the soup selections below his finger. I pointed to the creamy potato soup, and he said that he was going to get the same.
“Two cups of the creamy potato soup, please,” Jeffrey provided the order to the server.
