Page 4 of The Lies of Bryn van Doren

Stefano allows her to lead him back into the diner without question. As he returns to his seat, Jessica catches the attention of their beloved waitress, Wendy. The three of them have known each other for some time now. She’s the daughter of the diner’s owner and has been working the late shift for the last three years. Despite being a few years younger than Wendy, Jessica can relate more to the waitress’s life story than many of her other peers.

When Wendy graduated from high school, she went off to college for a while. It wasn’t until she got pregnant by some loser that she came back to Brooklyn. After her baby boy was born, she started working the late shift so she could be at home with him during the day. Her struggle and determination shape her character in such a way Jessica understands and admires. It’s why when she asks for her usual order, she does so with a wave and the best smile she can muster.

Stefano waits until Jessica takes her seat across from him before he asks, “What’s going on?”

She shakes her head at him a second time, propping her forearms on the table as she leans toward him and insists, “You first. How was your night?”

Stefano tugs his eyebrows together in disapproval, tracing one of his middle fingers around the rim of his coffee cup as he studies Jessica. In spite of his concerned curiosity, he doesn’t push her for answers but replies, “There was a bit of a mishap at work—cost me a hefty tip, but it won’t happen again.”

“What kind of mishap?” asks Jessica with a shrug. She needs another minute to get control of herself. The more Stefano talks, the tighter her grip becomes on her emotional reigns. If she’s going to confide in her best friend without breaking down, she needs to be in complete control.

“A couple of the girls traded places without my knowing. It wasn’t a switch that went unnoticed.”

Jessica nods, not entirely sure how to respond. It took a good deal of time for her to get used to Stefano’s chosen career path. It isn’t that she judges him for the business he’s in, as she supports him in whatever makes him happy. It’s just a line of work which is still a bit difficult for her to completely relate to, so they never get into the details of his job’s exact responsibilities.

“Come on, Jess. You don’t want to hear about Johns, and I’ve got nothing better to talk about. Out with it.”

Wendy approaches the table with an empty mug and a full carafe of coffee. “Hey, Jess,” she greets in her thick, Brooklyn accent as she fills the mug. “You two splittin’ a slice of blueberry or apple today?”

Jessica looks at Stefano, her inquiry clear in her expression. He quirks an eyebrow at her in minor annoyance and mutters, “Jess…”

“Fine,” she tells him before smiling up at Wendy. “Apple, please.”

“Two scoops of ice cream?”

Again, Jessica looks to Stefano for an answer, to which he only replies, “Jess…”

“Two scoops. Thanks, Wendy.”

“Comin’ right up.”

As the two are left alone, Jessica reaches for a creamer and carefully peels back the lid before she dumps it into her steaming coffee. She avoids what she’s sure is Stefano’s steady gaze as she stirs the cool liquid around and around.

“Jess!”

“Would you just—stop saying my name?”

When he reaches across the table and rests one of his hands over hers, she finally stops stirring. Then he murmurs, “Dove,” and the words come tumbling out of her as if he’s unlocked her mind’s Pandora’s box.

“Mom got laid off yesterday. And I get it, you know? We knew this would come. Except,knowingwasn’t enough to prepare us—to prepareme.” Jessica blows out a sigh, sealing her eyes closed tight as she laces her fingers with Stefano’s and grips onto him tightly. He squeezes back, and she scrunches her brow, trying to keep her tears from returning.

“Without a job, we have to figure out what the hell we’re going to do about her insurance. And we’ve talked about Medicaid, but that might not be enough. Not to mention, I’ve never looked into it in great detail. I didn’t think we’d need it so soon. I don’t—I don’t have a plan, and I feel so stupid for thinking we had more time. We don’t and—”

“Hey, look at me. Jess, open your eyes and look at me,” Stefano demands softly, giving her hand another squeeze.

She draws in a breath through her nose, holding it in her lungs for a second before letting out a slow exhale. When she opens her eyes, she seeks out his, and her inner anxiety is assaulted by an all too familiar peace. She holds out her other hand, not breaking their gaze, and Stefano extends his own, weaving their fingers together without hesitation. Jessica blows out another slow breath, comforted by his unwavering presence, regardless of the harsh truths she’s just spilled all over the table between them.

“Fuck,” he finally says.

Jessica doesn’t fight the chuckle that bubbles out of her. “Yeah,” she nods.

“What do you need? You know, whatever it is—”

“I know. I don’t need anything. It’s not your problem. I’ll figure it out, I just—”

“Not my problem? Jess, you’re my best friend, not a burden. You need me, I don’t care what it is, you tell me.”

She smiles at him, pulling his hands toward her. He leans across the table, following her tug, a small smirk curling the side of his mouth as she kisses his knuckles. There are no words to describe how much he means to her; no explanation grand enough to make sense of the way he can calm her down with promises of which she never intends to take advantage. Simply knowing he’s there, no matter what, grounds her.

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