7. Chapter 7
Caitlin
My feet throb with each step I take toward our apartment building.
Ten hours of cooking at Rosie’s has left every muscle in my body aching.
All I want is to collapse on our couch with a glass of wine, maybe two, and convince Adam to rub my swollen feet.
That’s assuming he’s even home and not with Millie. Again.
The cold November wind cuts through my thin jacket, and I hurry my pace, longing for the warmth of our apartment.
It’s been a week since the Halloween party.
Adam never came to bed that night, choosing to sleep on the couch instead.
The next morning, both of us were carefully polite with each other.
We still haven’t talked about what happened that night.
Before the party, things had been improving.
Adam had made an effort to be home for dinner most nights.
We’d had a few dates, just like he’d promised.
But I can feel him slipping away again, the gravitational pull of Millie drawing him back into her orbit.
Yesterday, he didn’t come home until after I was already asleep.
At least I have a job now. Working at Rosie’s has turned out to be the best thing that has happened to me since moving to Mount Pella.
I’ve always loved feeding people, always taken satisfaction from watching them leave my table happy and satisfied.
Business has been booming since I started, and I feel a secret thrill every night when I peek out the kitchen doors into the full dining area.
Iris is a good boss. She’s no-nonsense and has high standards for all her workers, but she’s also fair, and as long as you take care not to get on her bad side, she’s kind, with a wicked sense of humor.
After watching her deliver a tongue-lashing to a rude delivery person that had the six foot five, mountain of a man practically in tears, I take care not to get on her bad side.
I also enjoy the people I work with. I’d almost forgotten how nice it is to spend time with people who are friendly and genuinely want to spend time with me, who don’t treat me like an unwanted stranger they’re being forced to tolerate.
Several of the girls have even invited me out for drinks after work a few times.
As I reach our door, I pause. I can hear a voice inside.
Not Adam’s; it’s higher pitched and more feminine.
I take a deep breath and push my key into the lock, plastering a neutral expression on my face as I open the door.
The smell of garlic and cooked food hits me first, rich and inviting.
Then I see her sitting at our dining table, fork in hand, plate nearly empty in front of her. Adam is nowhere in sight.
Millie turns at the sound of the door, her face lighting up with a smile so bright it could power a small city.
“Caitlin!” she exclaims, like we’re long-lost friends unexpectedly reunited. “There you are! I was wondering when you’d get home.”
I set my purse down slowly, still taking in the scene. There are two plates on the table, one in front of her, and one across from her, Adam’s, presumably. The serving dish in the center has maybe a small spoonful of what looks like pasta left in it.
“Millie,” I say, my voice flat. “What a surprise.”
She doesn’t seem to register my lack of enthusiasm.
“Adam is such a sweetheart,” she continues, spearing the last bite from her plate.
“I was having the worst day. Just completely down in the dumps. Mom’s been so distracted lately, and the house is so quiet without Daddy…
” Her eyes well up with tears that she quickly blinks away.
“Anyway, Adam called to check on me, and when he realized I hadn’t eaten all day, he insisted I come over for dinner.
He made the most amazing pasta. You’re so lucky to have a man who can cook like that. ”
Before I can respond, the bathroom door opens and Adam steps out. He freezes momentarily when he sees me, guilt flashing across his face before he recovers.
“Hey,” he says, moving forward to kiss my cheek. “You’re home. How was work?”
“Exhausting,” I admit, leaning into his kiss despite myself. His familiar pine scent wraps around me, and for a moment, I almost forget Millie is sitting at our dining table, watching us with those sharp blue eyes.
“Oh my gosh, Caitlin, you do look absolutely wrecked,” Millie says, her voice dripping with a concern that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I wouldn’t think working in a diner would be such hard work.
I mean, I’m on my feet all day at the hospital, but that’s life and death, not… I mean, you just look wiped out.”
I clench my jaw, catching the subtle dig beneath her words. “It’s a different kind of exhausting,” I manage to say. “But yes, I’m pretty tired.”
“You should sit down,” Adam says, placing his hand on my lower back. “I’ll get you some food.”
I nod gratefully and move to the couch, kicking off my shoes and sighing with relief as I sink into the cushions. I close my eyes briefly, listening to Adam move around in the kitchen. The clink of a plate, the opening of a drawer for utensils.
“Huh,” Adam says, confusion in his voice. “That’s weird.”
I open my eyes to see him standing by the serving dish, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“I could’ve sworn there was more pasta left,” he says, looking into the nearly empty dish. “I made enough for three people.”
Millie makes a small sound, and we both turn to look at her. She has a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with what appears to be realization.
“Oh no,” she says, lowering her hand. “Was that for Caitlin? I was just so hungry, I had seconds.” She gives a little laugh. “Maybe thirds, actually. It was just so good, I couldn’t help myself.”
Adam’s brow furrows. “I’m pretty sure I told you I was saving a portion for Caitlin.”
Millie’s expression shifts to one of innocent confusion. “Did you? Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I must not have been paying attention. You know how I get when I’m upset; I just zone out sometimes.” She looks at me, eyes wide and imploring. “I feel terrible, Caitlin. Really, I do.”
I don’t believe her for a second. The look in her eyes as she watches me from across the room is almost… triumphant. But Adam’s face has already cleared, his momentary doubt replaced by acceptance of her explanation.
“It’s okay,” he says, though I note he’s speaking to Millie, not to me. “Sorry Caitlin. I’ll make you a sandwich.”
“I am just so embarrassed,” Millie continues, getting up from the table and gathering her plate. “Here I am, going on about what a terrible day I’ve had, and now I’ve eaten your dinner! You must think I’m such a selfish person.”
I think you’re a manipulative bitch is what I want to say, but I hold my tongue, too tired to start another fight. “It’s fine,” I say instead, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.
“You’re just the sweetest,” Millie says, carrying her plate to the kitchen. “Isn’t she the sweetest, Adam? I don’t know how you got so lucky.”
Adam is busy assembling a sandwich for me, layers of cold cuts and cheese that look wholly unappealing after smelling the pasta he made. “Caitlin’s pretty great,” he agrees absently.
“So tell me about your job,” Millie says, leaning against the kitchen counter as Adam works. “Hailey mentioned you’re at that place right on the edge of town?”
“Rosie’s Diner,” I confirm, wishing she would just leave. “It’s fine. Busy.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten there,” Millie coos, studying me over her wineglass. “What do they serve? Just like burgers and sandwiches?”
“Rosie’s has a much more varied menu than burgers,” I say, but I know it will not make a difference. In the eyes of Adam’s family and friends, I will never be anything more than a glorified burger flipper.
“I’ve been there for lunch a few times,” Adam chimes in, bringing me a plate with my sandwich. “It’s home-style comfort food, and it’s delicious. Caitlin is an amazing cook.” He gives me a proud smile, and I almost forgive him for the dinner debacle. Almost.
“That’s so cute,” she says with a smile that once again doesn’t reach her eyes. “You could just about star in one of those TV shows where the small-town cook has big dreams.”
Adam pours me a glass of wine to go with the sandwich. “Here, love,” he says, and I can see in his eyes that he knows this isn’t what I want, neither the food nor the company.
“Thanks,” I say, picking up half the sandwich without enthusiasm. I take a small bite, chewing mechanically.
“Anyway,” Millie continues, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room, “I was telling Adam earlier about this patient last week who had the craziest injury…”
She launches into a detailed account that I immediately tune out, focusing instead on the sandwich that tastes like cardboard in my mouth.
Adam sits in the armchair across from me, nodding at appropriate intervals as Millie talks, but his eyes keep flicking to me, gauging my reaction.
I keep my face as neutral as possible, but I can feel my patience wearing thinner with each passing minute.
Millie’s laugh jolts me back to the present. It’s too loud for the small room.
“Isn’t that just the funniest thing? You wouldn’t believe the crazy things people tell their nurses.”
Adam chuckles politely, but I can’t even muster the energy to fake amusement. I set down my half-eaten sandwich, my appetite completely gone.
“I should probably get going,” Millie says, glancing at her watch. “It’s getting late, and I have an early shift tomorrow. Caitlin, it was so nice to see you. We should do this again sometime.”
The thought makes me want to scream. “Sure,” I say instead, forcing the word past my clenched teeth.
Adam stands up. “I’ll walk you out.”
“You’re such a gentleman,” Millie says, touching his arm in a way that’s both familiar and proprietary. “Your mama raised you right.”