Page 21 of To Save Him

Maybe it was even welcome.  I wasn’t sure yet.

The waitress was quite a bit closer in age to my young friend, and she apparently found him as attractive as I.  She leaned over, opened the cover of the menu, and pointed at it with the back of her pen.  “I love the Thai Green Curry.  There is seriously nothing like it on the planet.”  She stood up, her pen now poised to write down our order.  “Have you ever had curry before?”

“Not that I remember.”

“It’s different.  It’s a melding of flavors you won’t get in American cuisine—things like coconut and ginger with a little kick.  Tell you what.  If you don’t like it, we’ll make you something else on the house.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Eh…curry’s not everyone’s thing.  Sometimes you have to acquire a taste for it.”

I didn’t know that I totally agreed with the waitress.  Curry was definitely different, but that was only because of our palates that had been dumbed down by processed foods that used mainly salt and sugar to enhance their flavors.  I kind of felt like either you liked the spice combinations or you didn’t—and youmightgrow into them, but most people I knew either loved or hated curry and those who hated it didn’t plan to try it again.  “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Oh, God, I felt my gut continuing to brew.  All I could hope for would be that my face maintained a neutral expression, one that wouldn’t give me away.

Did she actuallywinkat him?

This was bad.

Deep breath before she turned her gaze to me.  “And what will you be having?”

“Make that two.”  Hmm.  How odd that she didn’t want to chitchat withme.

“Oh, drinks.  What would you like to drink?”

We both ordered iced tea, and I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to shoo her off so our lunches would get made.

Brandon’s eyes followed her into the building, and I had to force myself to look toward the street where cars ambled by.  I didn’t want to get caught staring athisstaring.  I should have put on sunglasses, but it wasn’t so bright that I had to—which meant I had to try to act normal.  When Brandon started talking, I knew it was safe to look back.  “What was that you were saying about massages?”

Holy shit.  I hadn’t expected him to say that and I was on the verge of blushing—I could feel it.  Wasn’t I too old to play these silly games?  Yes, I knew I was, and yet it felt like this dance was part of my DNA, that I could deny it no more than I could deny air to my lungs.  Until all desires had burned themselves out in ripe old age, there would be no way to kill that part of myself.  “Uh…backrubs…and I was just kidding.”

Mostly.

“Oh.  Okay.”  And here came little miss waitress with our drinks.  I doubted she’d turned in our order to the kitchen yet.  That was too damned fast.  And I knew why.  Heaven forbid she let Brandon out of her sight for any length of time.

After setting them on the table and not even making any eye contact with me, she told us to let her know if we needed anything else.  I wanted to tell herour mealsand thought better of it.  I knew anything I had to say to her would be coated with acid at the moment, and I didn’t need to be that way.  Brandon clearly had no interest in me, so I shouldn’t even entertain thoughts on the subject.

Sublimation.

The problem was I hadn’t been writing as much lately—sellablestuff anyway.  Again, that was due to Brandon—but it wasmyfault.  I knew concentrating on work would help.  After all, writing had saved me twice before.  Well, writing paired with my list, something I’d also been straying from as late.  Likely abandoning all my good habits was the source of the torrents of emotion I’d been dealing with, and I needed to get myself under control.

Once the waitress had left once more, shaking her ass the whole way for Brandon’s benefit as she sauntered back inside, he said, “It’s kind of weird sleeping in Gabe’s room.  It’s like he’s going to show up here any second.”

I hadn’t expected the sudden reference to my son, and the jealous feeling vanished, replaced in seconds by a fist around my heart, squeezing, squeezing.  And a tear.

Followed by pure honesty.

“I don’t think the hole in my heart will ever close.”

“I don’t see how it could.”  He reached his hand across the table and wrapped it around mine.  It was warm and gentle, and it was the first time I’d noticed how big his hand was compared to mine.

For a moment, I was able to forget that I was a lot older than he.

I wanted to let the tears flow like rain, beg the universe once more to tell me why,whythe fuck it had to rip my son away from me in the prime of his life.

Why notme?

Gabriel had had so much left to give while I was likely done.  And even though my children’s father was all but worthless as far as I was concerned, I would have liked to believe he would have stepped up to the plate if needed.  If I were gone, he would take care of his children, right?  Pretty new wife would allow that, wouldn’t she?

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