Chapter Four
“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” Jodie assures me, patting me on the back. I’m slumped over the counter in the kitchen, sweat trickling down my face. I’ve been running all afternoon and evening, and I’m exhausted. This desk-job girl isn’t used to a physical job like this. Plus, it doesn’t help that tonight’s basically been a disaster.
Lysander comes flying through the back, exhaling audibly. This is it, I realize. He’s coming back to say I’m done. My steps toward a new life are failing miserably, and I’m about to get fired for the first time in my life. Time to face the music.
“I’m so sorry, really. I know I’m a disaster—”
Lysander tosses his hand up in a motion that looks like something the Dog Whisperer uses to shush a barking dog. I, under normal circumstances, may have been offended. However, considering I’m basically destroying the man’s business, I guess I could let it slide.
“Listen. It’s fine. So you spilled a few drinks on a few customers. It’ll be okay. I gave them some drinks on the house, and they don’t even care anymore.”
“In fairness, it was more than a few. I think I’m up to like five,” I say, grimacing.
“Like I said, not a big deal.”
“But what about the mixed-up orders? Plus, Georgette is pissed at me because I keep misunderstanding her.”
Lysander shrugs, looking over his shoulder at Georgette, who is dancing by the grill as she whips up some burgers. He leans in. “Listen, I rarely understand what she says. She mumbles. Usually, I just grin and nod. So no big deal. Georgette’s forgiving and forgetful. She’ll be none the wiser by tomorrow.”
I look over at the pleasantly plump older lady. She doesn’t really seem like the grudge-holding type, I suppose.
“And then I can’t remember a freaking thing. Like, I keep forgetting what key to push on the register. I keep forgetting what menu items are. I still have no idea what a Love-in-Idleness is.”
“Oh, that’s the flower in the play that makes the love potion.” Jodie interrupts as she shoves a cheese fry in her mouth. She’s on break, too—Joseph and Addie, who are also employees, are manning the tables right now.
“Okay, great. But what the heck is it on the menu?”
“It’s my specialty,” Lysander says, heading out of the kitchen. He is apparently owner and bartender here, according to Jodie. “Be right back,” he calls over his shoulder.
I’m still not convinced things are okay, and I’m not sure why Lysander is being so nice to me.
“Isn’t he the best?” Jodie says, offering me a cheese fry.
“He is. Which is why I feel even worse.”
“Will you stop. Are you trying to get fired? Seriously. Let it go. You’re too uptight. Loosen up. Stop worrying.”
Jodie passes me a cheese fry, and I oblige, realizing I’m starving from all the stress and running. A few moments later, Lysander shoves through the swinging doors to the kitchen.
“Here,” Lysander says, handing me a tall class of blue liquid.
“What’s in it?”
“Magic,” Lysander says, grinning.
I shrug, thinking about what Jodie’s said. It’s true. I came here to let go, to live a little. So what if I suck at my job? I shrug, take a tentative sip of the blue liquid. It’s pretty good. Okay, it’s really good, like a tart, fruity concoction that can only be described as magical. If I had to describe it, though, I would say it kind of reminds me of a Long Island mixed with blueberries and Swedish Fish. I decide to drink more, but Lysander pulls the cup away.
“I think that’s enough for your first taste of Love-in-Idleness. You can finish it after your shift. I think you’ve spilled enough drinks sober.”
I nod in agreement. “I should get back out there. As long as you still want me working.”
“Look, I’m not firing you. Jodie assures me you’re a math whiz and a great person. So you’ve got a job here as long as you want.”
“Jodie barely knows me,” I offer.
“Are you always so pragmatic?” Lysander asks. “Listen, she’s a great judge of character.”
“Damn straight. You better say that or I’ll tell Reed about it.”
“Who’s Reed?”
“You’ll meet him later,” Jodie says, winking. “Now get your butt back out there and practice waitressing.”
I smile, Lysander and Jodie both giving me a thumbs-up.
I don’t know why the hell they believe in me or why they want to keep me around. As I head back to the tables, though, and take a deep breath, I realize how good it feels to already have a support system, a group of friends, and a place where I belong.
***
I spend the next two hours perfecting my waitressing game. Okay, so not quite perfecting. Just surviving, in all reality.
I manage to only spill one more drink—a Love-in-Idleness—and mess up one more order. I win Georgette over by complimenting her pies in the front display case. I actually make a few tips, and I don’t piss any more customers off by making them wait too long for their checks.
But I’m so busy, I don’t have time to stop and think about how crazy it all is. I don’t have time to think about how this isn’t how I ever expected my life to go. I don’t have time to think about how this might not work out.
Most of all, I don’t have time to think about him. I don’t think about his favorite food or think about how he would kiss me on a summer night like tonight. I don’t think about all our memories like a sappy montage from a romantic movie. For the first time in months, I don’t spend the evening hours moping around, thinking about Chris and what could’ve been.
Or what should’ve been.
Which is a beautiful thing.
When Lysander turns the sign on the Shakespearean statue out front to “closed” and the final rowdy group of twentysomethings leaves, I lean on the counter by the register. I’ve never been this tired in my life. Computers and spreadsheets don’t even come close to exhausting me the way this job has.
“So, you survived your first night,” Lysander says, bringing me over another drink. I oblige, taking a sip. “What do you think of the place?”
I take a moment to look around, really looking at Midsummer Nights like I haven’t had a chance to do. It’s an odd mix of Victorian-England-style décor and a beachy vibe. There are abstract prints of the Bard himself all around. In some, he’s surfing or wearing floral print shirts. Behind the bar, a quote is scrawled on the rustic paneling: “Lord, what fools these mortals be!” I’m assuming it’s from the play. Maybe sometime I’ll actually give it a read.
Despite the name and décor, there’s not much Shakespearean about the food other than Lysander’s specialty. It’s your typical beachy pub food, which is fine by me. I’ll just have to be careful too many cheese fries don’t sneak up on my waistline.
Looking at Lysander, who is still awaiting my answer, I smile. “I think it’s just what I need.”
He beams with pride, a pride I know he takes in this place. “In some odd way, I think this place needs you too,” he replies.
“Why? Do you need to get rid of a few customers or something?”
“It does get pretty packed in here on the weekends,” Jodie chimes in, tossing me a rag to start cleaning the counter. “Enough sentimental crap. Get cleaning. I want to get home.”
I grin at Jodie’s bluntness and start wiping the table. As we’re cleaning up, a tall blond saunters right past the “closed” sign, tossing the door open and strolling in. He heads straight for Lysander, whose face lights up.
“Hey, baby,” Lysander says, and the two embrace. I look away, not wanting to creep on them.
“You better get used to it. Those two are crazy about each other,” Jodie says. “Get a room already, will you?” she shouts as the two kiss.
They pull away, obliging Jodie.
“Honestly. If I’d have known I had to see you two so sickeningly in love every day, I would’ve never matched you up. You know, not all of us are having such a great time with love. It would be nice if you didn’t rub it in our faces every single day.” She grimaces, but I can tell she’s not actually mad.
The blond walks toward me. “Who’s this?”
“Reed, meet Avery Johannas. She’s our new waitress. Avery, this is Reed, my boyfriend,” Lysander says. I put down the cleaning rag to reach for Reed’s hand. He grasps it firmly, giving me a huge grin.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“You won’t be saying that in a few. This one never goes away,” Jodie teases. Reed shakes his head.
“You’re the one who kept me around.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“So you introduced them?” I ask, wanting to be filled in.
“Yeah. This one,” she says, pointing to Reed, “kept coming in here almost every night. He moved here from Philadelphia, and said we had the best cheesesteaks in town. I knew he had his eye on more than cheesesteaks, though. But Lysander thought I was crazy, convinced Reed had his eye on me. I finally broke the ice, asked Reed if he was gay, and the rest is history. You’d think a gay man would have better gaydar than a straight woman, but I guess not.” She turns to Lysander, who is putting away some liquor and rolling his eyes. “Men. Straight or gay, they’re all idiots,” she adds, heading back to the kitchen to tidy up.
“Don’t listen to her. She’s just mad because she had her eye on me,” Reed says, winking.
“I heard that, you liar,” Jodie shouts from the back of the kitchen.
I can’t help but laugh.
“So, Avery, what brings you to Ocean City?”
I shrug, wondering how much to confess. I don’t really want to turn this into a serious counseling session like it could if I tell him the truth. I don’t really want to admit how desperate I am to forget, how I’m a scorned woman needing a change. I don’t want to see the pity in their eyes I’ve seen so many times before. So, instead of telling them the whole sordid story of Chris, I say, “Just needed a change, a new start. I was an accountant at my dad’s CPA firm back home. I woke up and realized it wasn’t what I wanted anymore.”
It’s partially true. Even without the whole situation with Chris, I was getting sort of bored with my job. As kind as Lysander has been, as much as I like him and Reed already, I’m not quite ready to lay out the whole “I got cheated on” story. Not yet.
“I get that,” Reed says. “I was an actuary back in Philadelphia. I came here for a new start, too. Plus, I guess you could say there were some things going on with family.”
“Where do you work now?” I ask.
“Well, I actually have a gift shop on the boardwalk. It’s called Sand Dollars. Stop by sometime.”
I smile. “I will.”
“Okay, let’s get out of here for the night, huh?” Lysander says. “We’ll clean the rest tomorrow. I’m beat.”
“Not too beat, I hope,” Reed says, winking.
“And there’s our cue,” Jodie says, flying back out to the main area. “Let’s get out of here, Avery. Leave these two lovebirds to their own devices before I gag.”
“Don’t worry, Jo. I’m still keeping my eye open for your next hunk,” Reed says.
“Too bad all the good ones are taken. Or gay.”
“I know I set the bar high. But we’ll find you a hetero hunk. I promise.”
“I won’t get my hopes up,” she says, and I follow her out the door. Once we’re outside, she tells me, “Last guy those two found for me turned out to be an ex-convict. Not sure I’m trusting their judgement.”
I smile. “They seem nice,” I say as we head to Jodie’s car.
“They are. Honestly. Even if my writing made enough money to support me, I’d still probably keep working there. It’s not really a job, you know? Lysander makes it more like family.”
“I see that. I like it. Thank you.”
Jodie gives me the death glare. “No need to thank me, remember?”
“I remember. But still, I appreciate it.”
“I know. And once you settle in, you’ll like it even more. Those two are great, the tips are good, and there is never a shortage of hot guys coming in.”
“Well, they’re all yours, Jodie. I’m done with men right now.”
“Well, there are hot women, too.”
“No, I don’t mean it like that. I’m straight. I just…. It’s been a rough year. I’m just not ready for love. I don’t think I’ll ever be.”
“How about a one-night stand? Are those off the table, too?”
“For now.”
“No fun,” Jodie says, scowling. “He must’ve done a number on you.”
“He did,” I say, looking out the window at the streetlights and crowds of partying vacationers meandering on the side streets. For a moment, the melancholy comes creeping back, the sense of loss, the sense of fear.
“Well, screw him,” Jodie says. “You’re going to be better off.”
I turn to look at my new, crazy redheaded friend and roommate. “I hope you’re right,” I say into the darkness, offering up a wish and a prayer to the stars that she’s right.