Page 231 of Falling Backwards
Eventually, I go with, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he mumbles, only audible because a song has just ended and the next hasn’t begun yet.
“No, I guess I….”At last, more words come to me.“Too much piled up on me at once.My knee has been hurting worse because a lady knocked her purse into it when I was seating her.Then everything with Marcus happened and there was even more that he said to me than what I told you.Andthenthere was this whole thing with Ronald.”
I cannot believe he wrote me up because of Marcus.
Except of course I can.Wasn’t I thinking earlier that Ronald always picks the customer over his employees, no matter what?Nevermind me not having a history of being rude to our patrons, and nevermind Marcus clearly being drunk—so drunk by the time he was leaving that he couldn’t quite walk straight.No, of course Ronald still took his word over mine and penalized me for saying things I didn’t say and acting in ways I didn’t act.
Once again, my hands are balled into fists.
I’m not truly surprised Marcus lied about me to him either.In a twisted way, it’s funny that I was remembering him drunkenly lying to get someone else in trouble and then forty-five minutes later, he was doing it to me.
What Iamsurprised about is that I didn’t freshly cry when Ronald bitched at me and issued the write-up.Instead, the unfairness of it all had me tense and burning hot and ready to just….And I still feel that way now.Not like crying, just like telling Ronald exactly what I think of him in Emma Haledon style.
But as I loosen my fists, I realize how tired I also am.I don’t want to be in this mood, don’t want to carry it with me for the rest of the night.
So I’ll try to let it go for now.I already decided I’ll take this up with Mr.Polk the next time he’s at the restaurant; I’ll tell him everything that happened.I know he’ll straighten things out.There’s no need to stew about it any more tonight.
Luke belatedly responds to what I said before with, “Wanna talk about it?”
My decision stays in place, and not just because he’s back to sounding distant.“Not right now.I’m tired of being upset about it.”I sigh.“Tired of being upset in general.I’ll tell you tomorrow or after I’ve talked to Mr.Polk or something.”
I think I hear him say, “Okay,” but it’s hard to know for sure.
The music fills the quietude we fall into.I recognize it as a cover of an older song; I rather like the sound of this one.I start to settle into it while I look out my window—
—and I jump at the sudden weight on my thigh, snapping my eyes to it.
But it’s just Luke’s hand.Just his touch resting on me there.
My heart swells.
He reached out to me.He’s not at such a distance that he doesn’t want to touch me.
I lay a hand on his.He gives my thigh a light squeeze that melts all the tension out of me.
What a difference something like this makes to a bout of unhappiness.Ronald and my ex matter even less.The mood Luke has been in doesn’t feel as irksome to me as it did before.
Outside problems and worries and unfairness be damned.I’m still his, and he’s still mine.
The quiet between us seems to soften.Even the music soon changes to something gentler.
My mood continues to improve as we park at my apartment and Luke accepts my invitation to come upstairs and watch TV.I feel steady as we hold hands while we walk even though my knee hates the strain.There’s a sense of comfort in the bright warmth of the building welcoming us out of the drizzle of the cold night.I think ahead to my pajamas, to what food I can easily whip up, to what time Joy said she’d be back from a coworker’s birthday dinner and Emma from being out with Paxton.
Gosh, I can’t wait to relax.
“Make yourself at home,” I tell Luke once we’re in the apartment and taking our shoes off.“I’m gonna change out of my work clothes.And are you hungry?I am.”
“Yeah, I am.I’ll look around the kitchen for something for us.”
Aw.“Oh.Well, only if you feel like it.I can do it myself if you’d rather sit down.”
He surprises me with a chuckle that sounds halfway normal.“You’re the one who should be sitting down.I can handle the food.”
I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve smiled since lunchtime.
“Thank you,” I say, watching him go towards the kitchen.
