Page 23 of All Her Broken Pieces

“I’ve never seen you this hung up on a girl.”

“I think you should go for it. She seems sweet,” Dre says as she passes my station on her way to the walk-in cooler.

Mina stands with her arms folded over her chest next to me. “If you don’t make a move, I’m gonna tell her the pickle story the next time she comes to pick up food.”

I set my knife down in horror. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” She grins before popping a piece of diced pepper in her mouth.

“I want something more with her, but I’m not the obstacle here,” I say, hoping to silence all my critics within earshot. “I think she’s fucking awesome, but she’s not really open to a relationship.”

“Ethan, baby, we’ve got dinner service covered tonight. Alyx can finish prep. Why don’t you see if she’s free tonight? If anyone can break through her shell, it’s you.” Dre wraps an arm around my shoulder. “I appreciate how much you help around here, but it sounds like she needs your help more than we do right now.”

Looking her in the eyes, I see hope, but I’m not feeling it. It’s been a week since I’ve seen Bridget and a few days since the last “Good morning” text I sent went unanswered. “I can try,” I concede while untying my apron and removing it.

“Go ahead and head out. You could use a night off anyway. We got you covered.” Dre comforts me while patting my back.

“Thanks. Mind if I grab some food for the road?”

Dre smiles at me, her brown skin wrinkling around her eyes. “You better feed that girl. I haven’t seen her pick up takeout in a while.”

“Actually, can I talk to you about something?”

“Anything, baby, you know you’re like a son to me.” Dre tugs me into her office, closing the door so we have some privacy.

“Do you think I could take some time off?”

“Absolutely, how much were you thinking?”

“I dunno, a few weeks?” I suggest hesitantly.

“Done.”

“It’s…wait, what? Really?”

“Really. You’re a good man, Ethan. I’ve seen how you take care of your sisters, how you cared for your Nonna, and how you look out for Alyx. Anyone lucky enough to have your attention is important to me. And Bridget? I’ve seen her come in and out of my restaurant for a couple years now. Always alone. Ordering food for only herself. She seems like she needs someone in her corner, and I can’t think of a better person for that job than you.”

“You don’t care that she’s…”

“Older than you? Hell no. Mina is eight years older than me, but our age difference isn’t our biggest battle. We are a biracial lesbian couple in this country. You think age is our biggest concern?”

“I guess not,” I say sheepishly, tugging at my neck.

“Do you want to know a secret? I was never truly happy with who I was, never truly secure in any relationship, until I stopped caring more about what other people thought, and focused on what Mina thought, what made her happy. You can’t control what other people say or think about you or her, baby boy. You can only control the way you react to it. Don’t worry about how people on the outside perceive your relationship. Focus on her. I have a good feeling about you two.” She winks at me before walking off.

I pull my phone from my pocket and send Bridget a text.

Leaving the restaurant

Might have made too much tortellini.

Know anyone who’d take it off my hands?

Also, my offer still stands.

Packing up a carryout bag and making my way out of the restaurant, I head toward Bridget’s apartment. The slight breeze is a pleasant caress, the heat of the summer still a month or more away. As I round the corner near her building, someone bumps into me, head buried in their phone. The scent of berries and vanilla hits me as I look down and see Bridget flailing one arm, the other clutching her phone tightly to her chest.

Balancing the food in one hand, I reach out for her arm and jerk her up and into me, preventing her from falling back onto the pavement. “We’ve got to stop meeting this way.”

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