“Mom’s Sunday gravy, which we always ate on Mondays, because she said it was tastier after letting the pasta sauce rest for a day. I still have spaghetti every Monday at Dad and Ellie’s place.” Her lips turned up. “What about you? Do you cook?”
“I can make a mean Kraft mac and cheese. Don’t even get me started on ramen noodles,” I joked. The guys at work and I cooked for one another every now and again, but I was best on the grill. Anything that took more than a little salt and pepper was a lost cause to me.
“Well, if you ever need a comfort meal, you know where to find me.”
“Don’t twist my arm,” I joked. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“The last time I saw you, it seemed that you weren’t interested in reconnecting. What changed?”
“Let’s just say your partner Chase is very convincing.” She shifted in her seat and looked down at the paper towel she’d grabbed to clean her fingers. “And it’s not that I wasn’t interested in reconnecting with you.”
“Then what was it?”
She shrugged as she quietly confessed, “It was fear that you’d leave and not come back again.” I parted my mouth to try to explain, but she shook her head. “We don’t have to rehash that right now, Ash. We can save that for another day.”
A part of me was grateful she said that. I wasn’t sure if I was mentally ready to tell her why I’d left the way I had. I wasn’t sure I was ready to confess just how broken I’d been after my father passed away. Again, public, not private.
“Tell me some good things,” Karla requested. “Good things that have happened to you over the years.”
“Um, working with Chase is a good thing. He was my father’s partner before he passed away, did you know that?”
“He mentioned it. That has to be nice, to be so close to someone who was close to your father.”
“Yeah. He’s family to me. Him and his three cousins. We all play basketball together. That’s a good thing, too.”
“I would offer to play with you, but basketball isn’t my strong suit,” she joked. “No sport is.”
“I could probably teach you to shoot a basket.”
She laughed as she picked up the next wing. “You’d regret wasting your time on me.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Her soft smile came back, and I swore her cheeks grew rosy. Maybe it was from how spicy the wings were, though, seeing as how my own face was heating up.
I missed her smiles.
She arched an eyebrow at me. “You hanging in there? You’re sweating a little bit.”
I wiped the back of my hand against my forehead. I was hardly hanging in there, but I didn’t want to look like a wimp to Karla. I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s hardly spicy,” I lied about wing five. “The actors on the show always make it seem spicier than it actually is.”
“Those sound like famous last words.”
“Pshh. I’m not nervous,” I cockily replied as I picked up wing six. I took a big bite out of the wing, because “I am man, hear me roar.” Idiotic move on my part. “What the hell is that?!” I asked as I began to cough. The first bite didn’t taste that bad, but it was the aftermath that lingered. I started coughing more and more as I chugged some of the milk in the glass on the table.
“Satan’s Piss,” she said in a nonchalant way. “So what else have you been up to over the past few years?” she asked, as if I wasn’t in the middle of eternal death. She was hardly reactingat all to the wing’s heat. She sipped her milk once or twice, all cute and shit as I was fighting for my life.
Man up, Ash. Play it cool.
I cleared my throat and sat back in my chair. How were there still four wings that had to be eaten? And how was she—sweet little Karla East—not breaking out in a sweat? My freaking eyeballs were sweating! I didn’t even know eyeballs could sweat!
“Uh, I don’t know, stuff,” I grumbled, wiping at my forehead.I don’t know, stuff?That was my reply? Why was it becoming more and more difficult to form words?
Karla narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re OK? We can stop here if they’re too spicy.”
“What? Pshh, no. It’s all good. Bottoms up,” I said, waving the seventh wing in the air. What was wrong with me? I was a glutton for punishment.
