Chapter 5 Salutations
Chapter five
Salutations
It was silly to hang around hoping Angel would talk to me.
He was working.
But I kinda wanted to stay goodbye before I left, if only to make sure we were really okay.
Would he get in trouble if I took the cake? Shouldn’t I at least give him a tip? Although he was the one who crashed into someone else’s dessert.
I shifted my weight, anxious in the growing dinner crowd. Mom would be here to pick me up any minute.
A guy with a scruffy goatee, neon shoes, and a bright patterned shirt attempted to maneuver through the line. “S’cuse me, folks. Special delivery,” he called.
Most people moved, but some ignored him in favor of staring at their phones. He stalled, swerving as he attempted to scoot past everyone with the big box in his arms. Poor guy.
I could remember the panicked urgency of getting a gurney through tight, busy hallways.
“Move aside. He needs to come through,” I said in my firmest ‘doctor’ voice. Direct orders tended to yield the best results in situations like this where people were in liminal mindsets waiting to be called forward.
The gaggle of people blocking his path shuffled out of the way.
“Thanks,” the guy in bold colors said, flashing me a sincere smile with deep dimples on either side. He plopped the box onto the counter, then leaned over it to peer into the kitchen. “Hey-o, where’s my Angelo?”
“Do you mean Angel?” I asked.
The delivery guy's voice piqued with curiosity. “You know him? The guy with white hair?”
“Y-yes. He’s over there.” I gestured to where he was serving the sea breeze.
Perhaps Angel felt our gazes, because he turned mid-specials-spiel and smiled.
I waved, my joints melting in awkward swoon.
Hi. Still here. Still that puppy-dog/pigeon waiting to talk to you.
I wasn’t sure what was more embarrassing: the perception I had a crush on him or the reality that I was waiting for my mother to pick me up.
The guy in the bold shirt propped his arm on the box, glancing between me and Angel. “So, how long have you two been acquainted?”
“A little while, I guess. We’re not super close,” I hedged.
“Close enough you came to visit him, though.”
“No. I came for cake.” I raised the to-go boxes as proof. “Finding him was an accident.”
“A happy surprise.” The guy in the bold shirt chuckled. “That seems to be a common thread in a lot of relationships.”
“W-we’re not in a relationship,” I said.
Dating Angel would be a disaster. A fun, hot mess. What would the recovery be on something like that?
Angel flashed me another smile and gestured ‘one minute’ with his pointer finger.
My heart skipped a beat. That was my body’s way of warning me away from him.
The guy in the bold shirt combed his goatee with his fingers. “Hey, all kinds of relationships are valid. My girlfriend and I were friends, first, and now I’m friends with the ex I was dating when we met. Angel’s good at heart, whatever your connection is.”
That sounded suspiciously like an endorsement.
“Have you ever dated him?” I asked.
Angel strode up and slung his arm around the guy’s shoulders. “Please. He couldn’t handle me.”
“Ha, probably not. Zero’s more my speed.” The guy patted Angel's chest. “But I still love you platonically, buddy.”
Angel snorted. “What’d you bring?”
His friend opened the box. “I got your Valentine’s order.”
I peeked between their shoulders, shocked by the pop of color and fuzz. The box was packed with fat, fluffy bears and cute plushie treats. What a giant, lovely gesture.
“Is all that for one person?” I asked, slightly in awe.
His friend chuckled. “You think Angel would—”
Angel nudged him hard. “They’re for a restaurant promotion.”
“Oh, well they’re lovely.” I shuffled closer, lured by the aromas of chocolate, caramel, flowers, and fruits. “Are they scented?”
“Yep.” His friend beamed, rubbing the spot Angel’d elbowed him. “Highest quality in town.”
I brushed my fingertips against the silky fur and smiled at the menagerie of cute faces. “They’re a wonderful present.” Much better than anything in the hospital gift shops or general stores.
Angel jerked his chin. “Pick one, pigeon. My treat.”
His friend shot him a curious look.
I backed away from them. “Oh, no. I couldn’t. You already gave me the cake. I really should pay for this.” I reached for my wallet, but Angel gently clasped my elbow.
“Please,” he said, his voice soft. “Let me.”
My pulse quickened.
What would happen if I let him take care of this? Of me?
My gaze dropped to his lips.
It was all so tempting to believe I’d finally found something—or someone—right for me.
A lovesick serenade blasted from my pocket.
I jumped, shocked back to reality. “E-excuse me.” I hurried a few paces away to answer my phone. “Hello?”
Mom shouted on speakerphone through her car console. “I’m just pulling into the parking lot; should be there soon.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you outside,” I said, glancing over my shoulder as she hung up.
Angel combed through his fluffy, cloudlike hair.
“Are you two dating?” his friend asked.
Angel chuckled ruefully. “No. She’s too sweet for me.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“Too sweet? No such thing,” his friend insisted, and I agreed.
Did he think I was a goody-two-shoes? Too inexperienced with dating? Or was that just an excuse to brush me off since I’d rebuffed his attempts to douse me with perfume and innuendos?
I rejoined the boys, my hand balmy around my phone. “I have to go.”
“So soon?” Angel frowned.
“Mmhmm.” I ran my tongue across the back of my teeth. Don’t give him anything.
The man in the bold shirt gestured to the box. “Aren’t you going to pick a plush? I made ‘em myself. Limited edition. And he’s paying for it.” He jerked his thumb at Angel, who blushed and crossed his arms.
“She doesn’t have to take one, Sal,” he said.
Something told me I’d regret it if I didn’t.
I gently lifted a white, fluffy bear with a floral aroma. Sweet was good for scented bears. So why did my perceived sweetness prevent me from dating?
“This one’s cute,” I said.
“Excellent choice.” Sal beamed.
Angel smirked. “He kinda looks like me.”
“Maybe I should pick again,” I joked.
“If you don’t want him...” Angel tried to pluck the bear from my arms.
“Hands off. He’s mine.” I used my whole body to shield the sweet little bear from that big, bad man trying to take him.
Angel reached around, trying to tickle me to set him free.
Giggles sprinkled through our banter as we pushed and pulled at one another. I didn’t realize how silly we were being until a nearby group of diners cleared their throats loudly. A hostess’s dirty look was enough to make me freeze.
Angel playfully nudged my arm. “Stop getting me in trouble.”
“You’re the one who’s trouble,” I said.
Sal gave us a funny, appraising look and propped his elbows on the dessert case. “You know, a lot of us mall-stars meet at the bar up the street on Wednesdays after our shifts. You should join us.”
Angel furrowed his brow. “That’s not really her scene.”
“Yeah, I don’t know.” I hugged the bear, embarrassment thudding through my extremities.
Usually, I didn’t have much energy for socializing.
And bars seemed kinda grimy. Plus, I didn’t want to insert myself into another third-wheel situation.
But Angel didn’t have to answer for me unless he really didn’t want me there.
Maybe he preferred to keep his options open for the evening with someone who actually might go home with him.
My phone blared again. Mom was here.
“I have to go. Thanks for the bear.” I rushed for the door.
“Pidge,” Angel called.
But he didn’t follow me into the crowd like a scene in the movies. He was working, and I was leaving. Only cold winter air kissed my cheeks.
I got into the passenger’s side of my mom’s minivan and sighed, my breath a puff of distressed steam. Why was I flirting with him? If that’s even what it was. Maybe I was too sweet. Too inexperienced. Too tightly-wound for anything fun beyond a cute bear.
My phone pinged with an email to my med school account. It contained a link to the local bar along with it.
I hugged the plushie, comforting myself in its mystery aroma: vanilla meringue.
Just like Angel.
Mom peered at my lap full of goodies. “What’s all this? Something for Jen?”
I rested my cheek against the bear’s and smiled. “She can eat cake. This one’s for me.”