I reach across the table and snuff out the flame of my dad's cigarette on a napkin in the napkin holder that sits in the middle of my kitchen table. I don't know how many times I have to tell him that my house is a non-smoking house and I'd appreciate it if he didn't smoke in my house. I've told him this a million times before but he doesn't listen to me. He just ignores me and sparks up an awful-smelling cigarette anyway. "Just because she's sleeping doesn't mean mean you can smoke, dad. I try to keep this crap away from her." I wave the smoke out of the air with my hand and put it back against Lyla's back when I'm done. Just like I expected, she was still taking her nap when I got home from work about half an hour ago. I usually let her sleep for as long as she pleases since she never sleeps longer than an hour, hour and a half tops. When I got home and found that she was still sleeping, I did my usual routine. I told my dad he could stay for a little while and I fixed a pot of coffee and I sat down and talked to my dad for about five minutes before I realized that I really missed my daughter. I missed her like crazy so I went and got her out of my bed. I didn't wake her up, I just held her and carried her around with me. She's lying cuddled up in my arms with her head on my chest and she's out cold. With clear annoyance, my dad shoves his pack of cigarettes back in his jacket pocket and like a little kid that can't help himself, he keeps igniting the flame of his lighter like he has nothing better to do. "...But you don't think mom's gonna do anything, do you? She gave her back, but...It just looked like she had something else that she wasn't telling me. You don't think she'd try to do anything rash...do you, pop?"
My dad puts the lighter down on the table and takes a little sip of his black coffee. "Look Alex, you know ever since Jen went..." His voice trails off and I've been around my father long enough to know that when his voice trails off, he's looking for a way to tell me something he doesn't know how to tell me. I hold my breath and prepare for the worst. "You know your mom's been looking for a reason to take her. You know she's been on your back so tough because she thinks she'd be better off with her. I'm not saying that she's gonna do something big to try and take Lyla for herself but...I'm just saying that maybe you should keep your eyes peeled and your ears open. Just be on your p's and q's from now on. Don't give her a reason to believe baby girl would be better with her. Just be on your game. And from now on, when I can't watch her, take her to the daycare. Don't give her to your mother anymore." He doesn't have to tell me that twice. My mom just lost all chances she ever had at babysitting Lyla. I will never—and I do mean NEVER—take my daughter back over there. My mom just burned so many bridges with me.
When I picked Lyla up from her house at 11:30 last night, my mom tried to act like she didn't want to give her back. Lyla was asleep in the guest bedroom and when my mom answered the door for me, she wouldn't open it up and let me in. She told me that Lyla was asleep and that I should leave her where she was at because she needed some rest. I yanked the door open and went upstairs to get my daughter and the entire time I was repacking her bag, getting her out of the bed and stuff, my mom was standing by the door watching me. It was chilly last night so I went to put her pajama pants on her but I felt that she needed to be changed so while she was sleeping, I changed her pull-up and my mom came over and stood by me...like she thought I was trying to do something to my daughter. She questioned me about why I was changing her when it wasn't necessary, why I felt the need to wipe her when all she did was pee and I swear she was trying to make it seem like I was changing Lyla for my own gratification. I've never come closer to slapping my mother than I did when she was questioning me about changing Lyla. It's bad enough she accused me of hitting my daughter...was that not enough? She had to make it seem like I'm molesting her too? When I say my mom has NO chance of ever seeing my daughter again, I really mean that. I just don't understand how she could've been the one that gave birth to me and raised me. SHE'S the one that raised me and molded me into the kind of man I am and she thinks that I'm a child molester/abuser? Really? My mom doesn't know me at all.
"It just pisses me off how she could even accuse me." I wrap my arms around Lyla's little body and rub the middle of her back while she sleeps. It makes me want to cry the more I think about it. I'm past the point of being pissed off, quite honestly. I spent my entire shift yesterday night at work pissed off and I spent my entire shift this morning pissed off too. Now that I'm sitting here, reflecting on the fact that my mom literally accused me to blacking my child's eye and tried to imply that I was molesting her, I just want to cry about it. "You know how many sick people there are out there in the world, dad? You know how many men don't even want to be bothered with their kids?" My vision gets a little blurry so I reach up and pinch the inner corners of my eyes to prevent the tears from actually spilling over. "I'm trying to do the right thing with mine...and she's making it seem like I'm a monster. It pisses me off but more than that, it scares the hell outta me. What if she does try and do something about it? She can't like..." My efforts at trying to keep the tears at bay are fruitless because before I know it, my cheeks are wet. "She can't like...go ask for custody, can she? She can't do that without a real cause..." I clear my throat and dry my tears. I'm done crying. It was just a brief moment of weakness. "What I mean is...she gotta have a reason, right? She can't just go down to the police or whatever and tell them she wants custody. She has to have them come in and investigate, right?"
"You're asking me like I've gotten my kids taken away from me before." He takes another sip of coffee and doesn't bother wiping his coffee mustache off. "Last time I checked...you, Amber and Aaron were with me until you all turned 18. I don't know how this stuff works either." I roll my eyes at the fact that he's literally useless. He's my dad. He's supposed to be older and wiser than me. It's not his job to sit here and tell me how he raised me, my brother that moved to Georgia to be with his country rock band girlfriend that he met on eHarmony and my sister that lives and works at a clothing store in Miami now. I think my dad senses my annoyance because he scoots his coffee cup away from himself and sits up straight. "But I assume she can't just go tell people that she wants custody. I believe that they would come in, investigate you and the house, find that Lyla is perfectly happy and healthy here and leave you alone. But I really think you're worrying for no reason, Alex. I don't think your mom is going to do anything like that. I just think she wants to be involved in raising Lyla in some big important way and her way of feeling important is through letting you know that she's watching you. You know how your mother can be sometimes...especially if she doesn't take her meds."
"I could give a shit if she takes her meds or not. Her being batshit crazy has nothing to do with her accusing me of hurting my daughter. If she's going to throw around false accusations, she better be completely clear minded when she does it. I was about ten seconds away from slapping the piss outta her, dad. She better be lucky that YOU were the one that taught me to always respect my mother because I swear dad...I almost hit her." Okay so yeah, my mom has some mental issues. She's currently living with Bipolar Disorder and when she's off her meds, she is pretty freaking nuts but she's been on the same meds for YEARS now and they're working just fine for her. She's perfectly fine and she's not too crazy to know that she was accusing me of abusing and molesting my daughter. Her being bipolar has nothing to do with accusing me of serious crap like that. I don't care if she was completely out of her mind; she better know what she's talking about when she accuses me of something that could make me go to jail and lose my daughter. "The only thing that stopped me is the fact that she IS my mother."
"I believe that. I know how irritating that must've been." He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. He looks down at the watch on his wrist and sighs again. "I gotta go now, Al. I got a couple engines I'm supposed to rebuild today and I if I don't get going now, I just won't get going at all." He scoots out of his chair and stands up. "Call me if you need anything...and call me if your mom tries something else. I'll talk to her about it but I don't know what kind of good that's gonna do." He shoves his arms into his jacket and zips it up. "Lemme give her a kiss..." He stomps over to me in his big, clunky work boots and bends down to give Lyla a kiss. He bypasses her injured cheek and kisses her other one. "Like I said...she didn't touch the oatmeal I made for her and it's in the microwave still...try and feed that to her when she gets up because she's bound to be hungry." He recaps what he told me when I first walked through the door. Apparently Lyla woke up around her usual time of 10:00 and just wanted something to drink and nothing to eat. She sat up and watched TV and played outside in the yard with my dad for an hour before she got tired again and took her nap...she's been sleep ever since. "I'll see you, son." He mumbles and heads for the door.
"Hey dad..." I stop him for a moment, before he can get completely out of my front door. He keeps his hand on the doorknob but looks back at me. "What are you doing for dinner tonight?" I just thought that I should be nice to him and offer dinner tonight. I should probably cook dinner at home tonight instead of feeding Lyla a bunch of takeout, but what's one more night of takeout going to do to her? And besides, I've seen my dad's refrigerator. The only thing he has in there is containers of Hungry Man frozen dinners and that's exactly what he eats every night. "I think me and Lyla are gonna head down to The Lobster Hut again for dinner. I'm in the mood for some crab alfredo and I'll probably get Lyla some of their chicken or something...you're welcome to come with us if you want." I look down at Lyla, only to find that she's in the beginning stages of waking up.
"...That sounds good, actually." He nods, clearly shocked that I offered. I've been meaning to ask my dad to come out to dinner with me and Lyla for the longest time, especially after seeing how he eats nothing but boxed foods all the time but it's been slipping my mind. My dad won't admit it, but I know he's lonesome. He lives alone, spends all his time either alone or with his granddaughter and the only friend I've ever seen him talk to is nurse Michelle up at my job. "Come pick me up around 7...is that cool with you?" I nod my head and look down at Lyla again. Her eyelids are fluttering and I hear her starting to whine. "Alright...see you two then." My dad leaves out of the house, shutting the door behind him and she sound of the door shutting is what really wakes Lyla up. She picks her head up off my chest and looks around.
"Good morning to you." I put my hands underneath her armpits and lift her up. As soon as she sees it's me that she was laying on, she smiles so wide that her pacifier falls out of her mouth. "Did you miss me? I missed you." I bring her down so I can kiss her on her lips and she touches my forehead. "Hi Ly...I missed you." She yawns real big and puts her forehead against mine. "I told you I'd be home when you woke up from your nap, didn't I?" She nods her head rubs her eyes. "Your eye looks better...does it feel better?" She nods again. I gently turn her head to the side and carefully push on her cheekbone, just to ensure that it's not broken. I didn't think it was but I'm just trying to be sure. It really does look better than what it did yesterday. When I got home from work last night, I put one of those special ice packs on her cheek and let her sleep with it on and it worked wonders. Her eye is still just a little bit black but it doesn't look nearly as bad as it did last night. Her lip is still split though. I can tell that she's still trying to formally wake herself up because she's rubbing her eyes and yawning every couple seconds. I sit her on my lap and let her wake up.
I sure hope my dad is right about my mom not doing something as drastic as asking for custody. I don't think she will either but my dad was also right when he said that my mom's been looking for a reason to take Lyla off of me. Both of Jenna's parents died when she was little, so my parents are the only grandparents Lyla has. Jenna's dad committed suicide when she was still a baby and her mom died of cancer when she was 12. When Jenna actually passed on, the first thing my mom asked me is if I can handle Lyla. She didn't tell me how sorry she was, she didn't ask me if I was okay. Instead, she asked me if I could handle my daughter. That was the first bridge my mom burned with me. Of course, I told her that I could handle my daughter. I told her that I was gonna do my best and she told me that my best might not be good enough and if I wanted Lyla to have a chance, I should let her take care of her. I told her to piss off and that was the end of that. Ever since I told her no initially, she's been looking for any reason she can find to prove to me that I'm not as equipped to take care of her as I thought. My mom really wants to take my daughter from me for some reason.
Even if I was the worst father in the world, I still wouldn't let my mom take Lyla. One of the last things I ever promised my wife was that I would take care of our daughter. Jenna was very specific with me. She told me that she wanted Lyla to remain with me and she wanted me to be the best dad I could possibly be to our little girl and I'm not taking that promise lightly. She made me promise that Lyla wasn't going to miss out. She made me promise that Lyla would still have someone there for her to cry to, to teach her about being a woman and to teach her about all the things little girls need to be taught. When I made that promise to my wife, I really meant that. I would die before I let my mom take my daughter.
I bite my lip just thinking about all the things I promised Jenna on her deathbed. When she was too far gone that the doctors couldn't help her, she asked to come home. She wanted to spend her last days at home in her own bed and the doctors told her that she could. She laid upstairs in our bed for two weeks before she went. Her last two weeks were spent cuddling with Lyla and giving me instructions, wishes and things she wanted me to see to. She wrote Lyla a bunch of letters that she's supposed to open at different times in her life. I keep the letters upstairs in my closet, on the top shelf. She wrote me a couple too but I don't think I'm strong enough to open them just yet. Someday I will be, but not today and not yet. I promised her that I would take care of our daughter. I promised her that Lyla wouldn't miss out on what it's like to have a mom because I would be her mother and her father. I promised her that I would make our little girl the most important person in my world. I promised her that I would keep up with tea parties, Barbie doll games and movie night. I promised her that I wouldn't let Lyla forget about her. I promised her that I would miss her, but not so much that I stopped living my own life. She tried to make me promise her that I'd move on eventually but I didn't promise her that. I couldn't promise her that. I'm only 30 years old but I was with Jenna for 14 years total...we started dating when we were 16 and we got married when we were 23. Jenna was the love of my life and I couldn't promise her that I would find someone else. I don't want to find anyone else.
"...Dada." Lyla finally stops rubbing her eyes and calls my name. She doesn't turn her head to look at me or anything, she just calls my name. She keeps looking straight, unblinking. "I see mama when I sleep..." She scratches her head. "Her hug me and we play tea party. I go to heabben now?"
"...Not yet." I rub her chubby stomach and kiss the top of her head. It's not the first time she's dreamt about Jenna. Sitting here thinking about Jenna, I realize that I've been doing a pretty shitty job at holding up my end of the promises. Granted, Lyla hasn't really been in the mood to play Barbies and tea party and stuff like that but even if she was, I haven't been keeping up with them. "...Ly, we're gonna go to the lobster tank for dinner again tonight...with pappy, okay?" She nods her head and yawns once again. "You wanna build a tent when we come home? And we can sleep in it tonight? Like mommy used to?" I watch a smile spread across her face. "When we come home from the lobster tank, we can take a bath and build a tent and then we can watch movies in it and sleep in it."
I had a feeling she'd like that.
X X X
"You have to wear your white shoes, Ly. Purple ones won't match your outfit." I kneel down on the floor in front of the step that she's sitting on and untie her white Nike sneakers. I dressed her in a pair of blue jeans and a yellow t-shirt that has a red sparkly heart on the front. She came downstairs herself and started putting her shoes on and any other time, I would let her put on purple shoes if she wanted to wear purple shoes. We're going to The Lobster Hut though and I can't have her walking around wearing purple shoes that don't match in a fancy restaurant. Once I have her Nikes untied and loosened up, I take the purple sandals she was about to shove over her pink socks out of her hands. She whines and pokes her lip out at me. "Purple shoes won't match, sweetness. White shoes match your outfit and you can't wear sandals over your socks." She just looks at me like she's really trying to comprehend what I'm saying but she's not understanding. "...Your shirt is yellow and red, baby girl. You can't wear purple shoes with a yellow and red shirt. It doesn't match...got it?" I shove her feet into her sneakers and begin to tie them. "Got it?" I ask her again. She nods her head and cooperates with me while I put her shoes on.
If there's one thing I'm getting better at, it's dressing her up. Jenna always had a way of making Lyla look like she stepped out of a child modeling magazine but me on the other hand... I'm getting better though. I found a red ponytail holder that has sparkly ribbon hanging off of it and I tied her ponytail back with it. Her silky, long, light brown hair hangs lower than the sparkly red ribbon on her ponytail holder but I think it looks cute that way. Lyla has long hair for a three year old but Jenna always kept it cut to a manageable length. It could be longer than what it is. It just comes to the middle of her back when it's out and when it's in a ponytail, it comes past her neck. I tie both her shoelaces and help her stand up. "Pappy comin' daddy?" She holds my hand and looks up at me. "Pappy comin'?"
"Yeah, pappy's coming. We gotta go get him though." I open the front door and help her through it. It's easier to just pick her up and carry her wherever I need her to go but she actually wants to walk so I'll let her. I hold her hand and guide her as we walk down the steps to get to the car. Of course, Mrs. Jensen just so happens to be walking her dog at this very moment. I don't want to be rude and ignore her, plus I know that once Lyla sees the dog she's gonna want to pet it. So I open up the gate and lead Lyla through it so I can have my unwanted talk with Mrs. Jensen and she can pet the dog. "You see Gibby, Ly? You wanna say hi to him?" She lets go of my hand and runs to greet the dog. Mrs. Jensen gives Lyla's back a pat but Lyla of course, ignores her and goes straight for the dog. I walk towards where the three of them are standing. "Good evening." I mumble.
"Good evening, Alex." She smiles at me and intently watches Lyla. Lyla is kneeling on the ground and letting Gibby lick her hands. I make a mental note to take her to the restroom and wash them once we get to the restaurant. "I see baby girl has a battle wound...what happened?"
"She took a spill off the couch, even though I told her not to jump on it." I watch the dog to make sure he's not getting finicky with Lyla or growling at her. Lyla's gently petting his head and kissing his "cheek" like she always does when she sees him. She and the dog have a cool relationship. I think she's the only one the dog actually likes, Mrs. Jensen included. The dog hates everyone including his owner. The only one he's not an absolute dick to is my daughter and I don't quite know my. The dog is an asshole though. He takes every opportunity to piss all over my bushes, my gate and the tires on my car. Mrs. Jensen won't admit it, but her dog pissing all over my bushes is the reason the rosebuds don't grow on it anymore. It used to be a rosebush before her asshole of a dog began to piss on it. "She got pretty banged up, but she's okay."
"Aw, poor baby." She reaches down and strokes Lyla's side bangs back. "Good thing her daddy's a doctor, huh?" See, this just goes to show how ridiculous my mom's being about this whole thing. How is it that I can tell the neighbor that hardly knows me, that Lyla fell off the couch and hit her face and she believes me? Everyone in this damn neighborhood knows I wouldn't hurt my daughter. Is it too much to ask for, for her to believe me on this? "You probably nursed it back to health, didn't you?" I nod my head and continue to watch Lyla and the dog. I hate to break up their long-awaited reunion but we really need to get going. We need to go grab my dad and I didn't make reservations this time so we're probably gonna have to wait in line for a while. I'm trying to have Lyla home by at least 9:30 so we have enough time to watch at least one movie in the tent. I don't work tomorrow so we can stay up for as long as we need to but I know Lyla won't stay up any later than 12:30 or 1:00. She'll be too sleepy. "Oh yeah, I've been meaning to tell you...I talked to the new girl."
"You did?" I raise my eyebrows. So she did talk to the poor girl. I hope she didn't harass her too badly. Poor girl probably wants to move away from the nosy ass neighbors already. "What happened?" This time, I'm actually not pretending to be interested in our conversation. For the first time since I've ever talked to Mrs. Jensen, I'm actually interested in what she has to say.
"She seems like a really nice girl. She's 29 and she's a waitress right now but she has a teaching degree in...math, I think she said. She moved here from Massachusetts. No family down here, no friends...it's just her and she's from up north. I had a long conversation with her. She seems really sweet." I'm not surprised. I could see just from her carrying her groceries that she was pretty tame and easy going. I am a little surprised that she's 29 though. She looked younger than that when I saw her. "Her name is Jo Wilson, she said. Very sweet girl...and she's quite pretty, if I do say so. She's a beautiful girl."
"Really?" I nod. "Sounds like a cool girl to have on the block." I shrug my shoulders. "Come on Lyla...we gotta go now honey. Pappy's probably waiting." Lyla gives Gibby one last pat on his head and returns back to my side, nestling her hand inside mine. "Tell Mrs. Jensen and Gibby buh-byes, Ly. Tell 'em bye."
"Bye bye." Lyla actually waves at the two of them, which surprises me.
Jo's Point of View.
"Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light television lover, baby, go all night. Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet. Little miss innocent sugar me." Luke prances around me, carrying an empty pitcher with nothing but ice inside it. He shakes his butt on his way to the soda fountain to fill it up and keeps singing, giving me and Macy our own private concert to the cruddy music that's playing over the speakers in the bar. He's been doing this all day; singing along and acting like he's in a music video to any song that comes on. No matter what song it is, he knows the words and takes it upon himself to entertain Macy and I. A little earlier, I fell victim to one of his lapdances. It was slow around 4:00 so I sat down and took my break at the bar and "Piece of My Heart" by Janis Joplin came on and he started "twerking" on my lap. Luke's the greatest thing I've ever come across in my entire 29 years and a month that I've been alive. I'm busy counting out Macy's charge tips when Luke gallops over to me and starts rubbing my hair while he sings. "So c'mon, take a bottle, shake it up...break the bubble, break it up, Jo!" I bite my lip to keep from laughing because if I laugh, I'll lose count and I'm already 93 dollars deep. He stands behind me and puts his hands on my hips. "POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME...IN THE NAME OF LOVE!" He makes me shake my butt and I can't fight it anymore. I put the charge tips down and bust out in laughter.
"Stop messing with me! You already twerked on me, now you're trying to make me dance...stop it." I try to remember that I was at 95 bucks when I stopped counting. Macy's shift is over in 15 minutes so she needs her charge tips ASAP and I'm supposed to count them out for her but it's kind of hard to do when Luke won't let me count without making me crack up laughing. Charge tips are tips that people leave on their debit or credit cards. At the end of our shifts, whichever waitress is free is the one in charge of cashing out the charge tips. I'm free so I have to take care of Macy's charge tips. I think Kaylee is coming in to relieve Macy. Luke goes over to the soda fountain and fills up the pitchers he was carrying, still mouthing the lyrics to "Pour Some Sugar" by Def Leppard. I finally finish Macy's charge tips at $105. "Here, Mace." I tie a rubber band around her stack of money and hand it to her. "105."
"Thanks, J." She stuffs the money in the front pocket of her apron and starts wiping off the bar counter. She's trying to finish all her cleanups so she can leave already. When people are coming to relieve us, we're allowed to leave as soon as our relief comes in but we have to make sure we finish our cleanups first. Kaylee just came back from clocking in, in the break room and she's standing by waiting for Macy to finish. I think it's safe to say that my coworkers like me. They've all been really nice to me and as far as I can tell, they haven't been annoyed by my constant questions. They've been super helpful. Oh, and they all have their own nicknames for me. Lucille calls me "sweetie" and when I asked her why she did yesterday, she told me it's because I was "sweet as I wanna be." Luke calls me Jojobear, Kaylee calls me "Jays" and Macy calls me "J." I'm still just learning everyone's names and I haven't come up with nicknames yet...except for Luke. He's my "Lukeypoo" and if you count "Mace" as a nickname for Macy, then she has one too I guess. Macy finishes her cleanups and puts everything back underneath the bar table. "I'll see you guys later..."
"Bye, Mace." I wave at her and put away the moneybox that's used to count out charge tips. It's 7:15, which means my shift isn't over for another three hours and 45 minutes. I can't wait to go home, take a bath, eat something that doesn't come from the ocean, take an Aspirin and lie down. I'm not particularly tired, but my first real shift on my own is kicking my ass and my hips are throbbing. I didn't realize how hard it was going to be to be on my feet all day. On the plus side, I didn't screw anything up today. I remembered the soup of the day, I didn't drop anyone's tray and I didn't screw up anyone's order. The tables are still numbered for me though. I'm not all that good with the tables just yet. "...Is it illegal to consume alcohol on the job?" I lock the moneybox back up and grab a bar menu. The dinner rush slowed down a whole lot so now, I'm just sitting around waiting for something to do. "Because I could really use a martini...or maybe just an ice cold beer."
"It's not illegal, but it tends to be frowned upon in this establishment." Kaylee answers me as she's tying her apron around her waist to prepare for her shift. "But if you won't tell, I won't tell. I'm always tempted to make myself drinks." I laugh and continue to flip through the menu to see all the alcoholic beverages this place has to offer. I was just joking about drinking on the job. I would never do anything to risk losing this job for one, and for two, I don't drink anymore. I just don't. I tend to...not be aware of my limit, so I've just decided to do away with alcohol completely. Kaylee stands next to me and leans against the counter. "What's it been like today? Busy? Slow?"
"It was busy for a while with the dinner rush and all. It just got slow." I close the menu and stick it back in the menu holder that sits in the middle of the bar counter. I find myself tapping my fingers and silently mouthing the words to the song that just started playing in place of Def Leppard. "Your body is a wonderland...your body is a wonder I don't use my hands..." I merely whisper. I clear my throat and look at Kaylee again. "So what section do you have? I'm in 10..." Section 10 is the most boring section ever and that's exactly why Tony gave me section 10 for my first day. He didn't want to overwhelm me. He could've stuck me in section four or section five. Those sections are the real busy ones because 1, they're smoking sections and 2, they're close to the bathroom. I can't wait to start working section 1-5 though. Sections 1-5 are outside sections. There's a set of double doors next to the entrance that leads out to a patio and there are a bunch more tables out there. Sections 1-5 don't open until Fourth of July weekend though.
"They stuck me in sections seven, eight and nine." She mumbles, scribbling an imaginary picture on the bar counter with her finger. The loud seashore bell dings to let us know that someone is coming through the door and since both Kaylee and I heard it, our heads lift up and we look at the same time. "Oh sweet lord." Kaylee mumbles under her breath after seeing who it is. She drops everything she's doing to rush over to the soda fountain where Luke still is. I roll my eyes at the both of them geeking out over our latest customer. It's that guy and his daughter again. Why won't they just let the poor man come out in public in peace? It's not long before Kaylee and Luke are both standing at my side again, trying to be subtle with their staring at the man but failing miserably. "Please let Stephen sit him in my section." Kaylee is literally praying right now. "Section 7, 8 or 9 Stephen...please."
"Mmm...let him sit him in my section." Luke licks his lips. "I'll slip him a whole free lobster tail just for being fine as hell."
"He's not even gay, Luke." Kaylee nudges him with her elbow.
"He ain't gotta be. It's perfectly fine if he's not." Luke shrugs and makes me laugh.
"...Hey Lukey, are you...are you the..." I bite my lip. I've been wanting to ask him this ever since I found out he was gay and I finally feel like we're at an okay place in our relationship for me to ask him. I just don't know how to ask him though. I swallow my pride. "Are you the pitcher or the catcher? Which do you prefer?" I just blurt it out.
"I'm the pitcher, girl. Always the pitcher. Don't mind catching a few innings, but I love pitching." He answers me like it's the most normal thing I could've asked him. "I'd catch for him though. Look at that man..." Stephen, our hostess, takes the two men and the pretty little girl back through sections 1-8. I crane my neck a little bit to see where he's gonna sit them. I think they asked for a booth or something because they're walking past a bunch of empty tables and full booths. They stop in section 10, it looks like. My section... Stephen puts the menus down on the table and sure enough, they sit in my section. The man...Alex is his name, he puts his daughter down in the booth and he sits at the end of it. The other man sits across from them. "Goddammit. Who's section 10?!" Luke stomps his foot.
"Isn't that your section, Jo?" Kaylee asks me and while I'm adjusting my apron and preparing to go serve them, I just nod my head at her. "Do you wanna trade?"
"No." I shake my head and give both of them an annoying smirk. "I'm not fueling either one of you guys' creepy obsessions with that poor guy. He just wants to eat dinner and he doesn't deserve plates full of drool from either one of you." I pick up my notepad off the bar counter. "See you later guys." I pull the strings on my apron a little tighter, grab three rolls of silverware and rush back to my section. They're the only people sitting in my section,which isn't really that surprising. It's been that way all day. I've only ever had one person in my section all day. As I approach their table, I notice that Alex and the other guy are in deep conversation and the little girl is scribbling on the kids' menu with the crayons we give. She's so well-behaved as compared to what I'm used to. I'm used to seeing children act a fool in this restaurant. I plaster my customer service smile on my face and walk over to their table. "Hello, I'm Jo...I'm gonna be taking care of you guys today." I place the silverware in the middle of their table and take my notepad out of my apron pocket. "Can I start you off with something to drink? We have Coke products."
The other man looks at me first. "Yeah hey hon...I'll take a Coke with a side of Coors Lite, if you don't mind. And can I have a glass of ice for that?"
"Sure." I smile and write that on my notepad. "And for you, sir?" I turn to Alex this time. He's looking at the menu instead of at me so I take the opportunity to make myself familiar with him. After all, he is my neighbor. I tilt my head to the side a little and feel my eyebrows wrinkle up as I look at him. He has very thick, wavy dark brown hair that spins off in a thousand different directions like he hasn't brushed it. From his side profile, I can see that he has long, pretty eyelashes and a stubby nose. His lips are thin and very full, a soft pink color. His eyes are crossed between dark brown and dark green and his eyebrows are thick and as unruly as his hair is. My eyes flicker down below his neck. He's a big guy, to say the least. He has broad, muscular shoulders and thick arms. He is nice looking.
"Can I have a Dr. Pepper?" He closes his menu and looks up at me, showing me his eyes from a frontal view. They're very warm, welcoming even but I can see behind them that he's not happy. I blankly nod my head at him and mindlessly write that on my notepad too. "And don't you guys have apple juice? Can I have one of those?" I nod again and write.
"Do you guys want to put in any appetizers at this time or do you still need a chance to think about it?" I keep my notepad and my pen in my hand and look at all three of them. The little girl couldn't be interested in anything but the picture she's drawing right now.
"We're gonna need to think about that, hon." The other man answers for all three of them and the more I look at him, the more I realize that he kind of looks like Alex so I go ahead and assume that he's his dad.
"Alight, no problem. I'll be right back with your drinks." I smile at them again and turn to leave. I bustle back to the bar and grab two tall glasses and a kiddy cup. "Luke, can you grab me a Coors from the cooler in the back?" I yell out to him as I fill up the two cups with ice from the ice maker. I push the glasses against the soda buttons and fill them up, one with a Coke and the other with a Dr. Pepper. Luke seems to be busy himself but he puts a can of beer next to me anyway. "Thanks." I put the two glasses of soda on a tray and fill the kiddy cup up with apple juice. I fill an extra glass up with ice just like the older man asked and shove everything onto one tray. I'm sure both Luke and Kaylee will have their fair share of questions for me once this is all done and over with. I balance the tray on my one hand and open the gate with the other hand. I swiftly walk back towards their table and find that both the men are now interested in the toddler's drawing. I put the tray down on the edge of the table. "Dr. Pepper..." I stick the Dr. Pepper in front of Alex. "Coke...Coors Lite with a side of ice." I put the Coke, the glass of ice and the beer in front of his dad. "And an apple juice." I politely reach across and put the kiddy cup in front of the little girl. I put three straws on the table from my apron pocket and stand up straight. "Are you guys ready to order?"
"Yeah, one second..." Alex mumbles at me, still glossing through the menu. The little girl is looking at me from the corner of her eye but she seems entirely too shy to make complete eye contact with me. She climbs over to her dad, whispers something in his ear, looks at me again and sits back down. Alex glances at me for a second after she whispers. "Yeah Ly, that's a lobster...her name's on the lobster. It's her name tag." He mumbles to her.
She looks at my name tag again and looks away. She picks up a crayon and starts drawing, periodically looking at my name tag as if she's trying to draw it. "...Would you like it so you can look at it better?" I put my notepad and my pen back in my apron and start unpinning my name tag from my shirt. I hold it in my hand and offer it to her. "Here you go..." She looks like she wants to take it from me but she's hesitant. She nudges her dad's arm with her elbow and points to it.
"What do you say, Ly?" Alex takes my name tag out of my hand and hands it to his daughter. "Tell her thank you." The little girl puts my name tag down next to her paper and starts drawing it better. "Lyla, tell her thank you."
"...Thank you." She says to me but as soon as she says it, she hides her face in his shoulder blade. She's so stinking cute.
"You're welcome." I take my notepad and my pen back out of my apron again. "Is your name Lyla? I like your name." I thought that the nosy old woman that came to talk to me said her name was Layla. I must've misheard her.
"...Wuss your name?" She stops drawing and looks up at me.
"Jo." I tell her and when I do, she goes back to drawing. I think she's naturally that shy. I don't think she's putting on an act or exaggerating.
"We're ready to order." The other man closes his menu. I nod and click my pen open. "I'll take the clam dinner with a side of mashed potatoes and dinner rolls. I want to add a side of clam chowder to that too, hon." I scribble that down and turn to Alex.
"I'll have the crab meat alfredo. Side of dinner rolls and chicken noodle soup, please." I write that down. "Lyla, do you want crab legs, chicken or shrimp?"
"...Ticken." She says to her dad and continues scribbling. She's coloring on my name tag but I decide not to mention it. It's nothing that soap and water and scrubbing won't get off.
"Can I have the chicken tender dinner off the kid menu? She'll take french fries with that and applesauce." I nod and as he rattles it off, I write it down. "And we'll take a basket of popcorn shrimp for an appetizer. Can we have cocktail—Lyla, NO!" He snatches my name tag off of her. "NO! Crayons are for paper! You know that!" He looks at my name tag and shakes his head. "I'm sorry." He hands it back to me. "I didn't realize she was coloring on it. I'm so sorry, I'll pay to replace it...how much is it?"
"No need." I shake my head and pop my name tag into my apron pocket. I start gathering up their menus. "It'll come right off, she's fine." I smile at the three of them. "I'm gonna go put your orders right in and I'll be out with your shrimp." I put everything in my apron pocket again. "It was nice to meet you, Lyla...bye." I wave at her. She waves back at me and keeps her head down now that she got in trouble. I turn around to take their orders back to the kitchen when something stops me. "Wait um, Alex..." Oops... I just used his name. He probably thinks I'm weird now. Damn. Oh freak. I've never been this embarrassed in my life. And I know my cheeks are probably read right now. Damn. "Did you..." I sigh. I'm so embarrassed...and the look on his face clearly shows that he knows it. He's looking at me with a slight smirk. "Did you want cocktail sauce? Is that what you were trying to say?" Should I explain to him that the only reason I know his name is because our nosy neighbor told me? I don't want to seem like I'm just like Luke and Kaylee with the creepy crush on him because that's not it. I only know his name because we're neighbors. I should probably explain that...shouldn't I?
He hands me the menus from the table with a cheeky smirk...it's as if he's laughing at my creepy obsession with him and I swear it's not like that. I need to explain. I can explain. "Yeah...cocktail sauce would be nice...Jo." He throws my name in at the last second which makes me smirk back at him. I politely take the menus off of him and turn to take his order back to the kitchen.