The restaurant goes dead silent.
Then an old guy near the front calls out, “Opa!” and the place erupts in laughter.
Keith scrambles to his feet, flushed and furious.
“Holloway, what the fuck was that?”
“Looks like you need to walk more carefully,” I say, deadpan.
“You tripped me, you piece of shit. That’s assault.”
“Big word, Keith. You sure you know what it means? BecauseIsee it asyourleg assaultingmyfoot.”
“Get her to bring us another bottle,” Dave says, glancing at his watch. “We’re gonna be late.”
Keith sneers. “You’re lucky I’m in a hurry. Otherwise I’d call the cops.”
I shrug. “Not surprised. You’ve always been more of a Daddy’s-boy-than-do-it-yourself kind of guy.”
He glares. Then flips me off as they walk out.
Faith brings them a new bottle on their way.
Mascara smudged. Eyes red.
Shit.
Now I feel like a dick.
Tripping Keith was supposed to be harmless. Funny. Not something that gotheryelled at.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Sorry about that,” Ty says quickly.
“Just an accident,” Faith says, smiling tight. “They were a little tipsy.”
We finish eating. I toss down a big tip, trying to make myself feel better.
As we head for the door, I glance back.
Faith is in the kitchen, getting scolded by her uncle.
She’s wiping away tears.
Dammit.
That wasn’t supposed to happen.
As we step outside, Ty elbows me.
“Why are you so damn quiet around her, man?”
I shrug. “She’s got me tongue-tied.”
Although if I ever got the chance?
I’d untie my tongue.
