Spinner pulls into his usual parking space at the apartment complex and turns off the car. The only thing more depressing than seeing his ex-wife and returning her belongings is coming back to the home they once shared and seeing all the space she no longer takes up.
After a few minutes of trying to brace himself, he gives up entirely and pulls the phone out of his pocket, and launches the FastFeast app. There's no reason for him to keep up the side hustle these days. He doesn't need the money, and if he's being honest with himself he doesn't need the reminder of what he used to need the money for. But it beats going home.
An order catches his eye. The restaurant and the delivery address are on opposite sides of town. It's a big order with a big tip and there's alcohol involved so he'll have to read an I.D. rather than just leaving the food on the doorstep.
He rocks his head from side to side while he decides. "Oh, what the hell," he says.
There's no drive-thru for the restaurant. It's a semi-fancy Italian place. He has to go in and collect the order. The app messages him a few times to make sure the order is correct. There's so much of it, and in Spinner's view, it's more complicated than it needs to be. One plate doesn't want marinara. Another plate wants double marinara. He has to work with the server for several minutes to get it right, and then they load him up with bags of pasta and breadsticks and desserts and a bottle of wine to top it all off.
He's no longer sure that the tip was worth it.
When he pulls up to the house he tries to remember if he has ever delivered here before. It's a nice house. Big. Not as big as Jay and Manny's but they have the nicest house Spinner has ever seen. Hollywood money. This looks like Toronto money and not a bad amount either.
It takes a concentrated effort to collect all the bags and to have his phone ready in hand. As he is walking up the driveway, the sprinkler system comes on and he can feel one of the paper bags getting weaker in his grasp.
"Oh, come on."
He lets go of the handles and shifts them into the crook of his arm instead. When he makes it to the door and rings the doorbell he's made to wait. A voice comes over the speaker.
"Can you move the bag away from your face?"
"I can't, actually. Unless you like sidewalk pasta," he says.
"Well, can you just leave it then? I'll give you five stars."
Spinner sighs. "That sounds great but I've got to see I.D. remember? Your wine?"
The speaker turns off with a quiet thunk. Spinner hears footsteps and shushing and the unlocking of multiple heavy locks.
When the door opens he doesn't see much through the crack. A chain lock is really the only thing in view before a hand juts out over it, manicured nails gripping a driver's license facing forward.
"Here you go, hon."
Spinner nearly drops the bags.
"Paige?!"
The hand pulls back and the door closes.
Spinner hears the rasp of the chain lock and when the door opens again, Paige is standing on the threshold in a pair of black leggings and a cozy gray cardigan. The light from the house crests her curls and makes her look like she has a halo.
"Oh my god," Spinner says, still in disbelief. This elicits a chuckle from Paige. He sets the food down carefully and throws his arms around her.
Paige sways under the weight of him while Spinner grins like an absolute goon into her hair. She pulls back to get a better look at him.
"It is so good to see you," she says.
"Likewise," Spinner says and then looks around to gather the bags once again. "I'm usually more professional than this."
"It's fine. It's not every day an old friend shows up on my doorstep with ravioli. I didn't know you were a FastFeaster."
"Long painful story." Spinner laughs but there is a lot of truth in it. "I didn't realize you lived here. I didn't realize you lived in the Provence."
"Long painful story…" Paige repeats.
Spinner nods in understanding.
"Well, I should probably get going. I don't want to make a bad impression on your husband but if you wanna catch up later?"
Paige is on the verge of agreement when a loud thump sounds behind her followed by a startled cry. When she swings the door open wider there are two toddlers playing on the stairs, sliding around in their footed pajamas.
Spinner is so stunned he can't manage to speak. Instead, his eyes are glued on the babies, one boy and one girl. Two exact copies of Paige.
"Hungry!" The boy shouts and Paige faces Spinner again with a sheepish grin.
"Why don't you join us?"