Handle With Care

Five

Lucy closed the door to her apartment and sighed deeply. She had encountered someone whom she did not particularly want to come across. It was someone who she wanted to throw away along with the rest of her former life.

Alyssa came out of the bathrrom, rubbing her wet hair with a faded blue towl. She smiled coyly, catching site of Lucy leaning against the door.

"Why are you still here?" she asked. "I thought you were 'going to work'?"

Lucy regained her composure and simply shot back, "Apparently, I've stepped out into the past." She slumped down in a nearby chair and began to remove her high, leather black boots.

"Ooh," Alyssa said softly. "Another boyfriend?"

Lucy rolled her eyes, pulling her hair away from her face and securing it with a red scrunchie. "Yeah," she replied. "Just not mine."

Alyssa's eyebrow's raised over her interested green eyes. "A steamy affair perhaps?"

Lucy almost laughed at the idea of her little sister's boyfriend and her, but even before the giggle could form in her throat, it disappeared. "Definitely not."

"What, not pretty enough for you?"

Lucy got to her feet, intending to eat the last strawberry yogurt in the refridgerator. As she walked away, she answered over her shoulder, "No, too young."

She hoped that Alyssa would let it go now, and Lucy assumed that she had when her voice was not heard for the rest of the morning. Lucy, now clad in gray sweat pants, a whie T-shirt, and white socks, sat down on her bed and slid a hand under her single flat pillow after Alyssa had departed for her own place of employment. The photo shined dully in the dim light and was cold in her hands.

For a moment she could feel her heart flutter as she saw the man of her dream's face. He was so strong and protective and loving as she remembered him. Still, she counted the days since she had seen him last and each day, she expected it to get a little easier.

It didn't.

Mornings were the most difficult. Even she opened her eyes, she knew that there was no one beside her that could fulfill her deepest desires better than Kevin. And as she realized that, the sadness came and it took everything she had to force back memories and tears and go on with who she was these days.

Then, eventually, she would have to crawl into her own bed at night and lie there, staring at the ceiling in darkness, dwelling on who she used to be and what she could have amounted to. She wondered what her life would have been like if she had married Kevin that spring. She wondered what her life would have been life if her father hadn't died that fall.

And then the tears would come.

The darkness was her cover, her chance to be vulnerable. When there was light, she was exposed, forced to wear a mask. But when the light went away, and all was quiet and still, she allowed herself to feel.

The lovely-smelling-and-everything-else woman was sitting at her table, hunched over a magazine of some type sipping her coffee that he had just served her. From across the room, he watched her, even as he took an elderly couples' breakfast order. Somehow, he was able to remember two poached eggs on wheat toast because he hadn't managed to write anything legible down.

After what seemed like forever and a day, she attempted to catch his attention for a moment or two - though she already had it - and Simon pretended that he hadn't seen her until just then. He finished up at the table where he was currently and made his way over to her, trying not to seem too eager.

He smiled what he hoped was a polite smile as she asked for her check. Simon, nodded, lowering his voice slightly as he replied, "Right away."

He slipped the black notepad holder out of his apron pocket and slid out her receipt. As she took it, her fingers brushed against his. They were as soft and as perfect as he imagined they would be. His heart skipped a beat and hoped to God that he wasn't beginning to sweat.

Just as he started to turn away, she looked up at him after scanning the piece of paper he had given her. He worried that he had made a mistake and was about to make himself look incredibly stupid.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

She grinned, her eyes bright. "No," she laughed sweetly. "I was just thinking about asking you out."

Simon was silent for a second, wondering if she had actually said those words. He turned his head to look around him, but there was no one near. "I'm sorry," he said, turning back to her. "What?"

She laughed. "Yeah, well, I noticed that you were incredibly attentive to me while I was drinking my coffee, and since I know there isn't anything wrong with me, I figured you liked me."

"Uh, well, uh... Um..."he stammered, searching for suave words that were not there. "Well, yeah." He felt his cheeks instantly catch fire and all he wanted to do was go into the kitchen and slam his head in the freezer.

She slid gracefully out of the booth and stood facing him, her full height catching him about his chin.

"Listen, there's this party tonight and I want you to come with me," she said, touching him lightly on the arm, sending shivers up and down his spine.

It was all he could do from grinning like a complete idiot. He gave her a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, I'd love to."

"Great," she replied, reaching behind her to grab an unused napkin from the table and pulled the pen out from behind his ear. "I'll see you tonight then. Pick me up at eight," she said after she handed him back his pen along with the napkin that held her phone number and address.

"Okey dokey." He smiled and waved, completely disturbed by the words that had just come out of his mouth. He turned when the swinging door shut behind her and got back to work, just in time to hand the elderly couple their receipt.

Not once did he think about Ruthie and the boys and his unresponsive mother back at home. Not once did it cross his mind that he had responsibilities. Not once did it cross his mind that he wasn't a kid anymore.

"But, Simon, I'm hunrgy too!" Ruthie whined as she watched Simon prepare a dinner of minestrone soup and a bologna sandwhich for their mother before his date, which he would have to leave for in all of five minutes.

"You can feed yourself and the boys," he replied setting the food on the wooden tray and pouring a glass of water. "You've done it before. Relax."

"I don't even see how you can be leaving," she said, brushing off his words. "I mean, I'm only thirteen! I can't even drive yet!"

"I would love to know how you got from food to cars," Simon said, tossing a napkin onto the tray before lifting it off the table.

"What if there is an emergency and we have to go to the hospital or somewhere?" she asked dramatically. "What if I die? Then everyone else will die because I won't be able to cook and we won't have food because I can't drive!"

"But if you died you wouldn't have to worry about anything like that anyway." Simon carried the tray into his mother's room and set it in it's usual place on her nightstand and came right back out. He was down to three minutes now and he didn't have time to waste. Ruthie was waiting for him with her arms crossed over her chest when he came out and he almost ran into her.

"What if there's a fire?" she demanded, ready for round two.

"There won't be a fire," Simon said, rolling his eyes. He kneeled down and grasped her shoulders. "Ruthie, just calm down. Nothing is going to go wrong. You'll be fine. You know how to boil water, so make some macaroni and cheese or something." He checked his watched as he stood. "I have to go, I'll be back around..." He paused.

"You don't know, do you?" she stated, staring him in the eye coldly.

"No, but it won't be too late. I'll take my key with me, so lock up before you go to bed." Just as he was about to walk out the door, he turned back to Ruthie, who still looked as if she didn't believe a word he said to her. "And leave Mom alone."

With that, he closed the door behind him, ready to embark on something that was completely family unrelated and was entirely welcomed. Little did he know, he was getting into something that was way over his eighteen-year-old head.