Layla – Present
“Have I ever told you about the time I set the kitchen on fire?”
Brody is standing next to me behind the bar. The morning rush has died down, and in the lull before the lunch crowd starts to drift in, we’re getting a start on polishing the cutlery and glasses.
“No,” I laugh.
“This one’s a good one.”
Amie is sitting on a bar stool opposite us. She leans over the bar and picks up a chip from the bowl. Even though she’s been in her new job for almost three months, she still spends most of her time here when I’m working.
“So…”
He puts the glass he was polishing down and opens his arms out wide, setting the scene.
“I’m closing up for the night. The other guys on shift left about an hour earlier.
It’s dead quiet, and I’m hungry. I put the last dish in the washer and press the start button.
There are usually leftovers in the fridge, but this night there weren’t.
So, I start making something. Don’t ask me what it was, because I still have no idea.
I grabbed a bunch of food and shoved it into a pan.
” He pauses, makes eye contact, and says, “Now’s probably the time to tell you I have no idea how to cook. ”
I nod and laugh along with Amie.
“I had a dishcloth in my hand, and I thought I left it beside the washer. Turns out I set it down on top of the pan with all the food I had just piled up.”
“No.” I cover my mouth with my hand.
“The whole thing goes up.” He makes a weird fire motion with his fingers, and I laugh again.
“I’m panicking, I’m trying to remember how to put out a fire.
I pour water over it, and I won’t lie to you, I’m lucky I have eyebrows left.
” He’s laughing now too. “I stopped the fire in the end, but Harry had to replace the stove. Thankfully he gave me a second chance, but that’s why I’m not allowed near the kitchen. ”
“Makes sense.” I laugh.
Brody chuckles. He flicks the dish towel over his shoulder and picks the glass back up.
“As much as I’d love to keep listening to how bad of an employee you are, Layla and I need to go.” Amie slaps her hand down on the counter.
I pull my apron over my head.
“See you tomorrow, Brody.”
Amie clicks her car keys, and the lights on her white sports car flash. I slide into the passenger seat.
“How are things going at Harry’s?” She puts her hand on the back of my chair and looks out the rear window.
“It’s good.” I say. “I’m starting to get some savings behind me, so it shouldn’t be long until I can afford to move out.”
“And your dad still hasn’t asked why Ben isn’t here?”
“No.”
“That’s strange.”
I shrug. I know it is, and I guess if I wanted him to pay attention, to ask me questions about my life, it would hurt that he hasn’t seemed to care.
Apart from throwing the odd insult about me spending time with Jacob, Ben’s name hasn’t come up in conversation.
I’m not going to push my luck to ask him why he hasn’t questioned why I’m still here without my husband, four months later.
That’s not the type of relationship me and Dad have, and for once in my life, I’m glad we don’t have a conventional father daughter relationship.
“You’ve been back for four months, Layla. He’s going to start asking questions, eventually.”
“As long as eventually keeps being later.”
She shakes her head. “You are hopeless, do you know that?”
Sharing my feelings with Dad isn’t something I’m ready to do. Any time I’ve ever tried to open up to him in the past, he shut me down. It’s hard to open a wound this deep with someone I no longer trust.
Amie parks at the front of the bridal shop. Pretty white dresses are on full display in the window. There are fairy lights strung up against the white backdrop, twinkling and reflecting the small sparkles in one of the dresses.
A woman greets Amie like they have been friends for years.
Amie points to me. “This is the friend I was telling you about on the phone.”
The woman smiles at me. Her auburn hair is tied neatly in a knotted bun at the nape of her neck. She’s wearing a black dress that falls to her ankles. Everything about her is prim and proper and elegant. I feel the opposite to every one of those things.
I’m wearing my work uniform, a hunter green top with white writing lined with red that reads Harry’s across my chest. I should have changed. I should have dressed like Amie and the woman whose gold name tag, pinned to the left of her chest, reads Juliette.
When Amie asked me a few weeks ago to fill in for her bridesmaid, who found out she was unexpectedly pregnant and dropped out, I wasn’t even sure I should say yes.
I didn’t feel like being a part of such a large celebration, but I knew if I said no, I would eventually regret not being there for her.
I follow Juliette into a small changing area. A large floor to ceiling mirror covers the wall in front of me, and on a gold hook to the left, there’s a cream garment bag. A champagne colored curtain shields me from the rest of the boutique.
“If you need any help to get it zipped up, I’ll be right outside.” Juliette pushes the curtain open slightly before disappearing.
I unzip the bag to reveal a blush pink floor length dress.
The silk flows beautifully to the floor.
The right side has a mid thigh slit. Thin, barely there straps hold a slightly cowered neckline in place, the fabric creases in all the right places.
It’s a dress that was clearly bought for the previous bridesmaid to feel beautiful in, and I wouldn’t expect anything less from Amie.
The dress goes on with ease. The blush pink of the fabric compliments my skin tone. It’s been a while since I’ve worn anything this nice. I take a deep breath and pull the curtain to one side.
Amie beams at me. “Wow Layla, you look stunning!” she gushes.
Juliette ushers me up onto the raised platform, where more mirrors are waiting. She passes me a hair tie and then starts accessing the dress.
“The last girl was a similar height to you, so we shouldn’t need to do too much with the hem.” She moves her hands to the back of the dress, cinching it in. “We’ll need to take it in around the waist.” She glances to me in the mirror, the slightest hint of judgment in her tone.
I’ve unintentionally kept the weight I lost when Ben died off, apart from maybe a pound or two.
She turns her head. “What do you think, Amie?”
“I think it’s perfect. But what do you think, Layla, are you comfortable?”
I nod. “It’s beautiful.”
I look away from her. There are so many memories attached to standing on a raised platform in a pretty dress.
All of a sudden, the dress feels too tight.
I look back at Amie and force a smile. Amie is too happy to notice, and I’m glad.
I want all of this for her. I don’t want to be the sad girl who lost her husband standing in a bridesmaid dress.
I want to be her friend. I want to be there for her.
And I so desperately want to feel happy too.
She steps up onto the platform.
“Thank you for doing this.”
“Thank you for asking me.”
She takes my hand in hers and squeezes. “Don’t get mad, promise?”
“Why would I be mad?”
“Promise me first, and then I’ll tell you.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“I think you should invite Jacob to the wedding.”
“Amie, no. I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can.” She gives my hand another squeeze before she takes my hair tie out. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, and you won’t know anyone else that well. It would make sense to have another friend.”
“Don’t say friend like that.”
“Like what?” She pouts, then goes back to playing with my hair.
“Like there’s a double meaning.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She winks at me in the mirror.
“We’ve been having dinner together once a week with an eighty-year-old woman. I wouldn’t exactly call that spending a lot of time together.”
She shrugs. “You’ve been having dinner with him every Friday night for three months straight. You see him more than you see me.”
“That’s not true.”
“No, it’s not.” She laughs. “But it would be nice to have him there.”
“Then why didn’t you invite him?”
“Because it would be weird if I did, and you didn’t.” She exhales. “Just invite him, Layla. It’s three days in the Bahamas. I’ll be busy, and I don’t want you sitting by yourself the whole time.”
“I won’t be sitting by myself.”
She looks at me like she knows me better.
“Fine. I’ll ask him. He’s going to say no, and it’s going to be awkward, but I’ll ask him.”
“Good.” She smiles. “You’ve got six months to build up the courage.” She claps her hands together and grins.
***
I left Amie at the bridal store and decided to walk back to Harry’s, where I parked Dad’s car this morning.
Jacob’s truck is parked up outside Mabel’s.
As I pass the hardware store, I notice some bits of paper stuck to the window.
I scan over them, some property to rent, a litter of kittens free to good homes, and then I spot a car for sale. It’s cheap, and still out of my budget.
I quickly count what I have saved since working at Harry’s.
If I can talk the owner down by a hundred, I’ll be able to pay it, but that leaves me with nothing.
Borrowing Dad’s car hasn’t been ideal, and depending on Rhett to drive me is even worse.
I’d rather walk than spend any length of time in the car with him again.
I stare back at the ad and move closer to the glass to get a contact number. Scribbled in barely readable handwriting are the words: inquire in store.
A car would be one step forward, something that belongs to me.
I walk up to the counter and notice the bell is pushed back.
I’d have to lean over the desk to hit it, so I decide to walk around the store until someone comes out.
Luckily for me, it doesn’t take long. Owen sits down on the stool behind the counter and sets down his energy drink.
We make eye contact and I smile. He doesn’t smile back.