“Dammit.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Lauren and the waitress turned to me in unison. “Ignore me, I’m just in my head.”
After the waitress left, Lauren angled her body to face me. We were so close in the booth our knees were touching. That was the beauty of this corner. You couldn’t escape whomever you were with. An interesting, but ultimately terrifying, thought pinged my brain.
“Did you put us here to hit on me?” Lauren’s laugh drew stares from everyone around us. A flush of embarrassment heated my cheeks and neck. “So… no.”
“I’m sorry again, Simone.” Lauren dabbed at the tears in her eyes with a napkin akin to sandpaper. “You just looked so scared.”
“Well, it’s not because you aren’t hot,” I offered. “And I’ve played around with the idea before. I’m just… not ready for that. Romance, I mean. Of any kind.”
“You’re safe, friend.” Lauren patted my hand, and when I relaxed, I wasn’t sure if it was because of her light touch or the use of the word friend. I’d already counted my lucky stars that I’d found Brianne. Was another friendship even possible? Especially with someone who hadn’t been particularly nice to me way back when?
“I’m so damn self-conscious all the time, Lauren.” I accepted the cold beer the waitress put in front of me with a smile. “Everyone is judging and waiting on me to either fail or pass. And I feel like Agatha is watching me. All the time.”
“In her own way, she is.” Lauren said. She broke a piece of bread outof the basket set in front of us, handing half to me. “What do you remember about her?”
“That she was imposing. Old even when I was a little girl. And passionate.” I broke it apart, chewing as I dipped into my memories. “It’s all still a bit hazy, but the impression in my brain is that she really, really loved what she did. And cared about improving people.”
“That was her. She had high expectations because she met them herself.” Lauren swiped her napkin across her lips and leaned back to face me. “I came to her with my grand notion of a wellness center that featured therapy fresh out of college. I was barely an adult, but she treated me like an equal.
“Even then, she made me feel so seen and validated.” She fiddled with her bread before setting it back down. I couldn’t fathom saying no to bread. “As we became colleagues, and eventually partners, she never shot down any crazy idea I had.”
“Like fae giving pedicures and facials in the same building a nymph is being treated for PTSD?” I washed down the bread with more beer, feeling a bit like my neanderthal ancestors. Pain, bad. Bread, good. Beer, better. Of course, the conversation we were having was way more than basic.
“Exactly.” A salad I hadn’t heard Lauren order arrived with two plates. Lauren split it without asking, handing mine to me as her story unfolded. “For a while, it was just the two of us. But I saw so much room for growth. Every time I brought it up, she’d tell me I was part of a bigger plan.”
“That plan included me.” The bread lodged in my throat, unwilling to go down. Luckily, I had beer. “And Brianne. I think we were supposed to start at the same time. Everything was supposed to be put into motion then.”
“Twenty years ago,” Lauren said, nodding in confirmation. “It’s when the Twins started, too.”
For a moment, the room disappeared. Lauren squinted at me as if I were disappearing from the end of a long tunnel. It was almost like my skeletal system was vibrating. My bones rattled inside me, churning something deep in my roots. I tried to let myself breathe, to let whatever it was that was begging to come to the surface arise on its own.
That damn memory. That damn crucial memory, edging me alongbut never letting me experience release. I squeezed my eyes shut. Reaching for it. The answer was right there. Why couldn’t I access it?
A loud crash jolted me back to the table. My head flung backwards, slamming against the high back of our booth. Blinking through tears, the restaurant came back into focus.
A large man with a grease-stained white tee crowded the table in front of us. A few straggly strands of hair combed over one side of his balding head. His eyes were near invisible under bushy eyebrows, a deeper shade of red than the pepperoni on the pizza he’d just dropped.
But the kind of smile that makes you feel all warm inside stretched wide across his freckled face.
“Well, there you are, girl! I heard you were in town and wondered when you’d find your way to me.” He ignored the waitress clamoring at his feet to clean the mess he’d made. With arms stretched out wide, he beckoned me forward. “Get over here and give me a hug.”
“Hey, Gino. It’s sure good to see you.” I’d said it to be polite. Not because it wasn’t good to see him, but because my memory of him was just as dim as the lighting. With a sheepish grin at Lauren, I obeyed his order. He wrapped me in a hug warmer than fleece, holding me so close I could barely breathe.
But the scent of him, yeast and sweat and deodorant, was more familiar than I realized. And the longer he held me, the crisper my past. Holy cow. I’d worked here. I’d been the waitress shyly taking orders while Lauren and Ethan, or one of her ilk, sucked face in the corner booth.
And I’d loved it here. Sure, the floor was sticky, and the tips were lousy, but it had been fun. Chatting with locals. Sneaking breadsticks at breaktime. Bullshitting with Gino, who acted like the loud uncle at holiday dinners.
Gino and I exchanged a brief catch up, and I promised to come back more often and visit.
“We’re all rooting for ya, kid.” He gave me a punch on the shoulder that should have been light but wasn’t, then hurried off with a wink.
“Did you remember that I used to work here?” I asked Lauren, rubbing my shoulder and returning to my seat. I nodded thanks to the waitress as she brought us a fresh pizza.
“Yeah.” She served me again, passing my slice on a plate before taking her own. “I mean, sort of. Ethan reminded me, on Agatha’s lastday.” A slight blush lit her cheeks. “It was such a strange night, with her insisting on that last-minute change to her will. He came over, and we talked.”
“He came over close to midnight?” I gave her a sly wink, pretending jealousy wasn’t crawling around inside me like a damn feral raccoon. “You sure you two are just friends?”
The blush deepened, spreading down her cheeks and onto her neck.
