The country diner is alive this morning. The bakery counter is overrun with customers as they try to grab the latest of the fresh baked goods lining the shelves of the case. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, and the gust of chilled air swirls in every time someone enters. I love this time of year. The colder it gets the better, and the fact that I know it won’t last forever is the topping on the cake.
The chiming of the bell draws my eyes to the restaurant door. Heath walks through, wearing a tan coat that falls mid-thigh. Under his jacket, he’s wearing a plaid flannel and dark denim work jeans. His boots are clean, telling me that he’s been in meetings rather than in the dust of job sites. Before I can get my feet under me enough to stand up, he leans over wrapping one hand around the nape of my neck, pulling me into a chaste kiss, and then taking a seat. I feel the heat creep up my neck, burning my cheeks.
“What?” he asks before lifting his hand, signaling for a waitress.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” he asks as he removes his coat, turning to lay it over the back of the chair. “Thanks for inviting me. I’ve been meaning to call, but we’ve started two new design builds this past week, so we’ve been swamped.” When the waitress comes over, she gives Heath a stunning smile.
“Well, I’m glad that you could make it,” I say, ignoring the woman standing at our table. “I know you’ve been setting up all the meetings between us so I thought it was my turn.”
He smiles one of his genuine smiles. “Well, I appreciate it.”
“Your usual, Mr. James?” she asks him before acknowledging me.
He gives her a passive smile. “Yes, that’ll be great, and whatever Mrs. James wants as well.”
She startles a bit like she didn’t know I was sitting right here. “Yes, of course.” She turns her body towards me, lifting her pad and pen reading her for my order. “Ma’am?”
I glance down at the menu. “I’ll take the Santa Fe Chicken sandwich and coffee, please.” Handing her the menu I give her a tight smile. As soon as she walks away, I ask, “Your usual? How do you have a usual here?”
He tilts his head, squinting his eyes slightly. “I’ve been coming in here a lot lately. The foods good and they’re quick with the service. That’s why I suggested it when you called.”
“What’s your usual?”
“Veggie frittata with egg whites.”
I’m shocked, “Well look at you being all heathy.” He gives me a smile in return.
“Here’s your herbal tea, sir, and your water, ma’am,” the waitress interrupts.
“Thank you,” Heath tells her before bringing the cup to his lips. Taking a sip, he hums in satisfaction. “It’s the perfect temp, thank you.”
“Of course, your food will be right up.”
“So…” He scoots his chair in closer to the table and leans his arms on the top, his eyes scan my face, brows drawn together. His expression softens before he speaks. “How are the shins? Feeling any better?”
“Yeah, they’re a lot better. Thank you. My neighbor and I picked up running again a couple of days ago so I’m good to go.”
“Great, I remember having them in school–”
“I remember,” I cut him off. “I wanted to ask the janitor to pick you up from third period and drive you to your next class because it was clear across campus.”
He holds my gaze with the tiniest of smiles on his face. “Yes, I recall how adamant you were about that. My friends would have revoked my man card, even before I officially had possession of it if I went along with your scheme.”
“I was just trying to take care of you.”
“Yes, you’ve always tried to take care of me.” He gives me another small smile. It’s the same one he used to give me when I’d catch him staring at me when we were younger.
The waitress arrives with our food, causing Heath to drop that smile in time to give her a curt nod as she sets our food on the table. “I hope everything’s to your liking, Mr. James.”
His eyes crinkle at the edges. “I’m sure everything’s great, thank you.”
“I think she’s got a thing for you,” I tell him.
“I think she’s got a thing for a good tip.” He digs into his eggs, popping a bite into his mouth.
“What did you think of your food?” Heath asks me before he takes another sip of his tea. This is his third cup.
“It was fantastic,” I say as I lean back in my chair, patting my belly. “I don’t know why I don’t come here more often.”
He eyes me over the mug. “Maybe we can make it our thing, you know? Take some time, maybe Sunday mornings, and come to breakfast.”
I feel the corners of my mouth turn up with a smile which makes him smile as well. “I’d like that. Maybe we can bring the kids too.”
“Sure, if they agree to keep their phones in the car.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, “I guess it’ll be just you and me then. Asking them to do that is like asking them to cut off an appendage.”
He laughs at my joke. The waitress comes and places the check on the table, but when I go to reach for it, he snatches it from my hand. “You know that’s not how this works, right?”
“I’d like to pay for it,” I tell him, making sure I sound adamant.
“Well, I’d like a few things,” he wiggles his brows at me, “but I’m not getting those either, so you’re going to have to deal.” He leans over to the side and pulls out his wallet, snaking the credit card for its holder. A flash of red catches my eyes against the dark brown of the leather.
“Hey.” I put out my hand, “What’s that?” I point to the wallet. When I look at him, he has a puzzled look on my face.
“What’s what?” He opens his wallet all the way. It’s a picture of the two of us. We were both wearing red T-shirts, and I think it was from the eighth grade Sadi Hawkins dance. I had just broken up with my boyfriend, and Heath said he didn’t have the time to deal with the female population. Of course, me being the exception.
I was always the exception.
“You still have that?” My voice goes quiet. I can feel my nose start to burn with emotion.
He licks his lips, his eyes tracking the emotion on my face. “Why wouldn’t I?”
I snatch his wallet from his hand making his eyes widen in shock. “Why haven’t I ever noticed it before?”
“I don’t know. I’ve carried it with me since the night we took it.”
I inspect the picture that rests in the cracked, cloudy plastic. It’s the only picture he carries with him. I run my finger over the picture, instantly taking me back to that night. We danced and laughed the entire night. When Sarah Pollock tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to dance, he turned her down flat, and every weekend after when she’d ask him to hang out with her. I laugh to myself, thinking about it. She hated my guts. She tried to bully me the rest of the year, but Heath didn’t let her attempts stand. He protected me from her and her posse of bitches until the moment she moved away, and all of her friends suddenly became my friends. Funny how that works.
He clears his throat, so I hand his wallet back. “Sorry about that,” I say.
“Don’t be.” The corner of his mouth draws up. “For over twenty years, Whit, you’ve been with me day in and day out. Even when you’re not with me, you’re with me.” He taps on his wallet.
“I–I never knew you were so sentimental.”
That makes him smile. “I’m not sure I’d call it sentimental.”
“Then what would you call it?” I question.
“Making sure the person you love most in the world is always with you.”