Page 43 of Some Kind of Forever
“She slept over with Artemis last night. They haven’t seen each other in so long, I can’t tear them apart,” Mom answers, looking up from her word puzzle. “Speaking of last night…how’d it go?”
“Leave him alone, Christine, before you get details from your precious baby boy that aren’t so innocent,” Dad says.
“Oh, he didn’t have sex with Kayla. He likes her too much to rush into that.” She stares at me over her readers, daring me to challenge her.
“Oh?”Challenge accepted.“And what makes you say that?” I volley back at her. I’ve told her bits and pieces about my journey to capturing Kayla’s attention, but never details that would give her any notion of my bedroom habits.
She folds her arms, tipping her head as the glare in her eyes intensifies.
“It’s the way you look at her, Chase,” Dad intercepts, putting his phone down on the table and crossing one ankle over the other. I rub my fingers across my forehead, wondering how I walked into this battle at nine-thirty a.m. “Your last girlfriend from a year ago…what was her name? Lucy?”
“Lacie,” Mom says, helping him.
“Right. You never looked at her that way. Or the other one, Carly.”
“Kylee…” Mom helps him again.
“What would I do without you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss her temple.
“Lose your head, that’s what,” she teases back, smiling up at him and cupping his chin. They lean in to share a kiss, and I hear my sister gagging behind me.
“Ew! Your room isright there!” Avery points down the hallway, her face scrunched up like this is the most disgusting thing she’s ever seen.
“And yours is upstairs.” Mom shrugs, kissing Dad one more time. Avery hops off the stool and stomps up the stairs, mumbling something about the kitchen being a place where we eat. I shake my head and take her seat, watching the unabashed love my parents share. They’ve been this way forever, never leaving the ‘high school sweetheart’ status behind, and I admire them for it. I strive to emulate it.
“Anyway, I think when you meet someone who makes you look at them the way you look at Kayla, you do whatever it takes to keep them,” Mom says.
She turns and gazes into Dad’s eyes, a scene I’ve witnessed so many times before. This is just the way they look at each other, but something about this time, this glance, gives me a new perspective.
“And in what way do I look at her?” I ask, hoping to be told what I already know. I anxiously rub the hair on my face while I wait.
Dad answers this time, eyes still fixed on Mom. “Like there’s no rush, and you can see forever.”
Gettingto the diner at seven forty-five feels like the cool water at the end of a long race. I’m early, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. Bert sits in his spot at the end of the counter, reading the paper as he sips on his decaf, like he does on most nights. I look around the warmly lit diner for Kayla, spotting her at the end of the room, past the row of booths. She layers plates and cups on a tray and maneuvers around a chair, walking behind the counter and dumping the stack through the kitchen window. She hasn’t noticed me yet, and just like usual, the casualway she navigates the space around her, graceful and confident, sets my heart racing. When she turns and sees me, she smiles and it’s bright enough to melt me down to bare bones.
“Staring again?” she asks, coming around the counter to stand next to me.
“Guilty,” I say, reaching to pull her closer. She stands between my knees, palms flat against my chest.
“Patti’s sick today, so I have to take my break out here.” She flashes her teeth in a nervous grin.
“That’s okay. Is she alright?”
“She thinks the new fish place down the street gave her food poisoning a couple of days ago. She’s on the mend, but needs me to open in the morning too.”
I stroke her cheek, rubbing my thumb down to her jaw. I just want to press my lips to hers, but Bert’s still over there, sipping away in the corner. Even though we talked about PDA last night, I don’t want to make her uncomfortable at work. “I missed you today,” I whisper, tipping my head to hers as I reach into my back pocket for her bracelet.
“I’m sorry I snuck out,” she whispers back, running fingers up the back of my neck and into my hair. Capturing her hand and bringing it between us, I hook the bracelet around her wrist and press a kiss to her thumb. “I didn’t want to wake you up that early,” she continues, peeking up at me.
“Wake me up. Always wake me up. I don’t care what time it?—”
The bell above the door rings again, and she sighs, straightening out her back and stepping away. “That’s my cue,” she says, rubbing her face with a sigh. “Can I get you anything?”
I shake my head and watch as she greets the couple making their way to a booth. I didn’t know a “dessert rush” was a thing, but five more groups shuffle in, demanding one form of pastry or another. Except for touches that are far too brief as she walks between the kitchen and the customers, I don’t get another minute with her until the booths empty out again. With the lastgroup walking out of the diner, she leans over the speckled quartz countertop, planting her elbows as she dips her head. She rubs her eyes like she’s trying to wipe the last hour from her face.
“Twenty minutes,” she sighs. “Twenty minutes and I can lock the doors.”
“Think he fell asleep over there?” I jut my thumb to the corner, taking in the suspenders fitting too tightly against Bert’s white button-down shirt. His bowler hat sits on the countertop next to his newspaper.
