One day as five months began to turn into six, Reese was in the kitchen getting an order when she heard a sound that made her freeze and the blood drain from her face. She was sure she'd heard his voice. She must have been mistaken and went back to rolling cutlery when she heard it again. It was clear as daylight.
"So then I dragged him from the bar to the car and threw him inall there. His low velvety voice, the vowels, everything. Julie turned to her just at that moment.
"What's wrong?" Julie asked in irritation. "You look like you're going to faint."
Reese jerked her head to the restaurant, and Julie came out from behind the winow to peak out, pretending she was getting herself a cup of coffee. "I'll let the girl know you're here," she said before returning to the kitchen.
Going back behind the window she turned to Reese, looking excessively pleased to Reese's frustrating. "Pull yourself together," she said, smirking slightly. "And go out there and help that boy."
Reese scowled and took a steadying breath, turning to go out to the restaurant. Seeing Kili was the only newcomer, she addressed him. The guys around him were carrying on as though nothing significant had happened, which she knew from their perspective hadn't. "Hey stranger," she said, trying to sound light, hoping nobody heard the tremor in her voice. She put a glass of water and cutlery roll in front of him, noticing they rattled slightly as they touched the counter. "The usual?" she asked as though it hadn't been months since he'd last been through. Despite her determination, she could not bring herself to look at him and busied herself with writing his usual order on her order pad.
"Please," he said. She nodded and glanced towards him, only able to look at his wrists, his beautiful wrists with the black hair there that travelled up his forearms. How much time she'd spent thinking about those beautiful wrists. She wanted to stroke them with her fingertips, run her lips over the bones.
Passing the order to Julie, she turned to the counter and topped up coffee. Reaching the end of the row, she turned to put the coffee pot back when the red haired trucker at the end spoke up. "You look like death warmed over, lass. Are you sure you're not sick? Wouldn't want you to be getting me sick." Everyone glanced up at her, and she stared at him, mortified as he drew attention to her paleness.
"No, I'm fine," she managed, never trying so hard to keep her voice steady. She couldn't believe when the trucker continued.
"You don't look fine," he said. "You look shaky and pale, and you look sweaty. I bet you're getting the flu." He crinkled his nose and leaned away from her, pushing his coffee away as well. "You can take that," he said. "I don't want any of your germs." Reese flushed as she ignored the attention she was getting from all of the truckers. She could feel Kili staring at her.
"I assure you, I'm fine," Reese said through gritted teeth.
"And I'm telling ye' yer not," the redhaired trucker retorted.
"Shut yer yap already, Giles," Doug, a steel haired trucker, snapped. "If she says she's fine, then she's fine. Let the girl do her job already."
Doug turned back to her and nodded, and Reese scowled when he winked at her. He'd always been more perceptive than the others, which broke the rules in Reese's opinion. She wanted to suffer in peace at this moment, and his awareness of her suffering was worse than Giles' obsession with her pale state.
The truckers returned to their conversation and slowly they trickled out, one by one, until it was closing time and only Kili remained, Just like old times. Julie had shut down the kitchen and left long ago. Kili was preoccupied with texting on his phone, sitting in silence as she worked. Finally she spoke, hoping to usher him out.
"Can I get you anything else? I'm about done cashing out." He looked up at her, his warm gaze capturing hers, and her heart flipped. He didn't say anything for a moment, and she realized she was staring at him.
"I feel like something sweet. What do you recommend?"
"Ummm, pie?" she said. "Lemon meringue, maybe? It's always good. Julie is a genius with baking, but you know that."
"Is that what you like?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Ya, I like it." She cut a large piece and set it before him.
"This is huge," he said, glancing up at her. "Share it with me?" He seemed anxious for some reason, and she wondered if he was going to make a move unsure how she wished to react. She clearly had good reason to be anxious about this particularly piece of pie as it was tempting her to sit and share it with him. She fought an internal struggle and lost, nodding briefly.
"Just give me a moment to finish cash out." She tried to prolongue the task as long as possible, but one could only count sixty-five cents in nickles so many times. With a sigh she picked up a second fork and walked around the counter, sitting on the stool beside him. He'd waited for her, patiently it seemed, and picked up his fork as she sat beside him. They didn't speak for awhile before she finally asked what had been on her mind, managing to phrase the question nonchalently.
"So haven't seen you around these parts in awhile."
He nodded without looking up. "Mmmhmm," he murmured, his mouth full. He swallowed, "It's good to be back."
"It's good to have you back," she said, annoyed when she felt herself flush at the words. She suddenly felt like she was bordering on flirting. She wanted to keep careful boundaries with him, despite their flirtatious beginnings.
"I'm glad," he said, smiling at her suddenly. He seemed like was actually relieved to hear her say she was glad to have him back. They were silent again before she asked another question.
"What kept you away?" she glanced up at him. He took a moment before answering, keeping his eyes lowered.
"My father died." He looked at the plate before glancing up at her stricken face, smiling sadly.
She had no idea what to say. She didn't talk to people about these things. "I'm so sorry, Kili," she hoped she sounded sincere and not panicked.
"It's okay," he said. "But I was home for awhile with my family, my brother and my mom especially."
"How did he die?" Reese blurted out.
"Cancer. It was a long illness. We knew it was coming."
Reese stared at him. She surprised herself by reaching out and grabbing his hand, squeezing it in what she hoped was a reassuring way.
"I'm so sorry," she repeated, not knowing what else to say. He squeezed her hand back and smiled at her. He seemed surprisingly composed for what he was telling her. "I've never lost anyone like that," she added, "but it must have been devastating for your family." She remembered that sometimes people had families that might be upset by this sort of thing.
"Mom is pretty shaken up," he said. "I wanted to be with her for as long as possible. She has my brother and uncle now. They are both pretty calm, don't show their feelings much."
Reese nodded as she stared at him, still holding his hand and feeling like it would be a bad thing to withdraw it at this time. She didn't mind the excuse to hold his hand a little longer.
"I couldn't stay longer, though," he said. "I feel so guilty, but I had to go. I had to ..." he trailed off.
"... get back on the road," she finished for him. She understood exactly what he was saying. Six months was usually her limit, and he'd been getting close to that.
"Exactly," he said, seeming relieved that she understood. She imagined it was a hard thing for people to understand, his need to be on the road, travelling. He stared at her for a moment. She felt her heart hammering. His disclosure had pushed them closer together, and she was both terrified and elated.
He picked up his fork again, as did she, and only after a moment did she realize she was still holding his hand. She felt her palm grown suddenly sweaty with panic and fear, and she didn't know what she should do. She knew she needed to pull away, but didn't know how to do so without looking awkward or desperate. She tried to gently tug her hand out of his and felt his tighten aroud hers. She looked up to see him staring at their joined hands. They'd never actually touched, except accidentally brushes when she'd passed him plates and cups.