Page 35 of The ABCs of You & Me

“Well, it was for Cass so she may have put my name in for Brother of the Year,” I reply with my face practically in Sophie’s bag, which is a lot like Pete’s pockets. I push aside multiple chapsticks, a loose piece of gum, a half-eaten granola bar, countless receipts, two pens, and a hair elastic. My fingers brush a coin buried in the corner as I’m about to give up. I hold it up triumphantly and set her purse back at my feet.

“Okay, call it.”

“Heads.”

“It’s tails, so the first right we take when we get off the highway.”

Thirty minutes later, we are making our first right followed by another right and a left which leads us to a dead end. It takes ten minutes to back out of the alley and we decide that maybe we should verify the following turns using GPS in order to avoid that happening again.

“Alrighty,” I say after we make our last turn, “keep your eyes peeled for a res?—”

“There!” Sophie shouts, swerving into a parking spot in front of what looks like a great place to get tetanus.

I get out of the car and reach the meter before Sophie realizes what I’m doing. “Foster Steven Walsh, you put that card away right now,” she yells as she rounds the front of the car.

“Too late.” I grin over my shoulder at her, joy bubbling away in my chest over the fact she remembers my middle name.

I hold the door open for her and stop inside when I see the interior of the place. “Colonel Mustard’s marsupials.” The place is absolutely covered in paper. Post-it notes and ripped paper scraps adorn the walls and ceiling. Even most of the tables look to have a fair amount under their glass tops.

“Well, if all these people have eaten here, that’s probably a good sign, right?” Sophie asks, squeezing by me and walking to the hostess stand.

“How many?” the woman behind the stand asks, already picking up two menus.

“Two,” Sophie tells her.

“Table or booth?”

She looks back at me with her eyebrow raised. It’s not that busy in the place, but the booths offer a bit more privacy. “Booth, please,” I tell the woman who leads us to a table near the back.

“Your server will be right over, enjoy,” she informs us before walking away.

Sophie is lost in the wall immediately, leaning in close to read the notes. “‘The love of my life died yesterday. I’m drowning my sorrows with fries and margaritas.’ My god, that’s fucking sad,” she murmurs before reading the next one. “I was here, and now so are you.’ Deep.” She laughs.

While she looks at the notes on the wall, I begin reading the ones on our table. They are a mix of wise words and ridiculous observations. “Here’s a good one. ‘People don’t talk about their good days enough.’ I am definitely guilty of that. Ha!” A laugh bursts out of me. “Yes, I’ve heard of Jesus, have you heard of Google?”

“I have a friend who has that taped to their mailbox.”

“And?”

“People still knock and leave pamphlets. Want to write our own?” Sophie holds up the stack of paper that is sitting against the wall, a cup of pens beside it.

“Maybe after. I need to think of something clever.”

When our server arrives to take our order, we decide that if the fries are good enough for a grieving person they must be worth getting, and because we can’t decide on mains, we order four other appetizers.

“A meal of apps, solid,” the server drawls before taking our order to the kitchen.

“I’m going to wash my hands.” Sophie slides out of the booth and walks to the back of the building.

I use the opportunity to write a note. I’ll write another later, but there is a secret I’ve wanted to share since I was a kid and now seems like a good time to do it.

At 16, I fell in love with a girl.

I’m 28 now and still falling.

EIGHTEEN

SOPHIE

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