Fifteen
Luke
Sitting alone at a table in the over-packed diner was not exactly what I’d been looking forward to all week when thinking about Friday night. But that’s where I was. Sipping a mug of coffee, eyes trained on the door, waiting and hoping that Claire would be the next one to walk through.
She was late. Or she’d decided to chicken out entirely. I hoped it wasn’t the latter. I really hoped it wasn’t.
But as much as my insecurity and nervousness wanted to push their agenda and tell me that she wasn’t coming, I didn’t believe them. Because I knew enough about Claire to know that wasn’t like her. She had a pretty long way down the mountain, and I knew how hairy those roads could get at night. She was probably just taking her time, being safe.
Or she was still at her sister’s giving an entire safety demonstration for the care and protection of Ella.
Picturing that erased some of the tension and made me smile. Her drive to protect her young rivaled any momma bear’s.
“You doin’ okay, hon? Need a refill?” the waitress asked, squeezing between chairs and tables to get to me with the coffee pot. I was going to tell her not to bother, but before I could, someone at the table next to me pushed their chair out, and the waitress lost her balance, her and the coffee pot tumbling to the floor.
The guy who caused the whole mess jumped up, hollering about how he was covered in coffee, but I instantly bent down, offering the waitress a hand with cleaning it all up.
“Are you all right?” I asked her, nearly having to shout over the noise in the place. I never knew they got so busy here on Friday nights, but I made the note to never come back at peak times again.
“Fine,” she said, gathering up shards of glass in her bare hands.
“Careful,” I said. “Can I help?”
She looked up, her eyes tired and lined with years of stress. She looked down at her hands filled with glass and the pool of coffee spreading across the floor.
“There’s a supply room in the back over there. If you could just bring me the mop bucket, I can make sure no one slips or cuts themselves over here.”
“Got it,” I said, jumping to my feet. It took some doing to get through the maze of people and chairs, but I finally got to the supply closet, got the mop and bucket, even filled it up and grabbed the wet floor sign — I worked in a grocery store as a kid, I knew how these things went.
It was on my way back to the spill that I saw the door open and perked up, hoping it was Claire finally showing up.
But no one was coming in. It had to have been someone leaving. But through the front window, I spotted a familiar halo of golden curls.
My heart leaped into my throat and I practically pushed people aside to drop off the bucket, mop, and sign.
“Thanks—” the waitress said, but I didn’t hear anything that came after it because I was wading through the crowd, dodging people left and right, shouting ‘excuse me’ and ‘coming through’ over and over until I finally got my hand around the cold door handle and pushed.
The cool night air hit me with a whiff of Claire’s vanilla scent, but I didn’t see her right outside the door. I knew she should be here, I knew I’d seen her — my bear knew too and he was roaring for her.
“Claire?” I called into the night, but there was no answer. There were voices in the distance though, carried on the breeze, and I followed.
“—None of your business,” Claire was saying. And she sounded angry, annoyed.
“Like hell it isn’t. You bringing strange men around my kid isn’t my business?” My whole body stiffened on alert. The guy talking to her sounded familiar, but more than that, he sounded like a threat to the woman I cared so much about. His voice was a challenge that made my bear prickle to the surface. But I forced it down, still following the voices. No need to scare Claire off if I could end this altercation as a man.
“Oh, so now you want to be a father? How convenient. That’s bullshit Chuck and you know it. You didn’t give a damn about Ella when she was running a fever or needed her diaper changed or needed new shoes. You don’t get to pretend you care now.”
I swallowed, their voices now clear enough to pick up on every word. Claire’s voice was trembling — with anger or fear, I didn’t know, but I wasn’t about to sit back and let her deal with this alone anymore.
“Hey! I don’t think she wants to talk to you,” I shouted down the dark alley. It was hard to make out either one of them, but Claire’s back was against a wall and the guy — Chuck, I guess — was far too close to her for my liking, his finger pointed in her face.
“Mind your own business pal. This is between me and my baby momma.”
My hands balled into fists at my sides and my teeth ground together, but I forced the bear inside to stay calm.
“I said back away,” I growled, barely keeping it together.
“Get the hell out of here before I take away all your visitation rights,” Claire spat at him, her spine straight and stiff.
I took a step nearer to them, and in the dim light I could see the guy’s eyes hardening.
“You can’t do that.”
“I can and I don’t think any judge will argue with me when I tell them what a piece of shit you actually are—”SMACK.
Claire’s words cut off with a sharp yelp as she flew to the ground clutching the side of her face.
And then I saw red. Nothing could stop my bear from clawing his way to the surface and bursting out roaring, barreling toward Chuck on all fours, teeth bared.