Francie's restaurant is modern looking. The walls are a vibrant red and
everything is red, black, and steel. I like it. The booth we're situated in
is black padding with steel as the support. I could never be an interior
decorator. I wouldn't even be able to decide on what color the walls would
be.
Mom and I are sitting next to each other, facing the front entrance. I picked this side so I could see if Dad was coming. I also chose to sit on the inside. I want Mom to get to Dad first.
I want to see Will's reaction. My initial dislike is slowly wearing off, but this will be my ultimate test. If he looks jealous and resentful, I will find a way to end his relationship with Mom.
He will not destroy my parent's love.
I will not let him.
"It's really quiet during this time of day, but the place really starts hopping at night." Francie is informing us on everything about her restaurant. It's like her baby. Speaking of, I would like to meet her son, Jonathon. I know Mom and Francie would die of happiness if something sparked. Lets just say I wouldn't mind either.
Dad is ten minutes late.
Everyone has a vent that shows any strong emotion that person is feeling. Mom's is her eyes. Mine are my fingers. They twitch.
They're twitching now.
Mom must have noticed, because she asked me if I needed to use the restroom. I know she wants to talk so I say yes. "I'll come with you."
My fingers always give me away. I can never lie to my parents without my hands hidden, but when I hide them, they know I'm lying. I don't want to leave in case Dad comes in, but I wouldn't be able to explain why without lying.
The bathroom is completely black with lights glowing dimly against the paint. I've never liked bathrooms because they were too girly. This one completely suits my taste. Even the sinks are silver, reflecting the black walls. Mom cuts in on my observations.
"What are you so worried about?" She didn't even give me a chance to say that I'm not worried. She just knows.
There's a strange glint in her eyes that I only see on rare occasions.
She's worried too.
"I could ask you the same question, but I don't need to. We're both worried about the same thing." We say our answers in unison, but they are not the same words.
"Dad."
"Michael."
I give her a second before she asks me why I'm worried.
"Why are you worried about your dad?" For about the millionth time in my life she guesses the truth.
"Is it about Will?"
I nod. No point in even trying to lie.
"He's just my friend. That's all he ever was. There was nothing romantic between us, and even if he did have thoughts about us, they died a long time ago. Besides, he's wearing a wedding ring."
I had noticed it too. Something still wasn't right. I decide to tell Mom my suspicions, even if she won't believe me.
"Why does he look at you like you're his savior? Why hasn't he mentioned a wife or family? Why is he jealous of Dad?" Unknowingly I have raised my voice to the volume right below shouting. I return my voice to normal and breathe slowly. I ask the question that has bothered me from the moment I saw Will Tippin.
"Why does he look at you like Dad does?"
Mom and I are sitting next to each other, facing the front entrance. I picked this side so I could see if Dad was coming. I also chose to sit on the inside. I want Mom to get to Dad first.
I want to see Will's reaction. My initial dislike is slowly wearing off, but this will be my ultimate test. If he looks jealous and resentful, I will find a way to end his relationship with Mom.
He will not destroy my parent's love.
I will not let him.
"It's really quiet during this time of day, but the place really starts hopping at night." Francie is informing us on everything about her restaurant. It's like her baby. Speaking of, I would like to meet her son, Jonathon. I know Mom and Francie would die of happiness if something sparked. Lets just say I wouldn't mind either.
Dad is ten minutes late.
Everyone has a vent that shows any strong emotion that person is feeling. Mom's is her eyes. Mine are my fingers. They twitch.
They're twitching now.
Mom must have noticed, because she asked me if I needed to use the restroom. I know she wants to talk so I say yes. "I'll come with you."
My fingers always give me away. I can never lie to my parents without my hands hidden, but when I hide them, they know I'm lying. I don't want to leave in case Dad comes in, but I wouldn't be able to explain why without lying.
The bathroom is completely black with lights glowing dimly against the paint. I've never liked bathrooms because they were too girly. This one completely suits my taste. Even the sinks are silver, reflecting the black walls. Mom cuts in on my observations.
"What are you so worried about?" She didn't even give me a chance to say that I'm not worried. She just knows.
There's a strange glint in her eyes that I only see on rare occasions.
She's worried too.
"I could ask you the same question, but I don't need to. We're both worried about the same thing." We say our answers in unison, but they are not the same words.
"Dad."
"Michael."
I give her a second before she asks me why I'm worried.
"Why are you worried about your dad?" For about the millionth time in my life she guesses the truth.
"Is it about Will?"
I nod. No point in even trying to lie.
"He's just my friend. That's all he ever was. There was nothing romantic between us, and even if he did have thoughts about us, they died a long time ago. Besides, he's wearing a wedding ring."
I had noticed it too. Something still wasn't right. I decide to tell Mom my suspicions, even if she won't believe me.
"Why does he look at you like you're his savior? Why hasn't he mentioned a wife or family? Why is he jealous of Dad?" Unknowingly I have raised my voice to the volume right below shouting. I return my voice to normal and breathe slowly. I ask the question that has bothered me from the moment I saw Will Tippin.
"Why does he look at you like Dad does?"