Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
A lthough Scarlett had relaxed somewhat as they’d made their way through the gallery—and particularly the showcase area—she still seemed uncomfortable. Kyle began to experience the same sensation as they moved through the area but not because of her. He didn’t know much about Scarlett, something he was trying to remedy this evening, but he was uneasy around people of this caliber. Just the way they looked at him communicated that they didn’t understand how someone of his class thought he could invade their hoity-toity party.
These were not his people.
He’d only ever felt this way once before. He’d been maybe twenty and, still on his mother’s insurance, he’d continued going to the dentist regularly. But his old dentist in Charlotte retired, so he started seeing someone else in Silver City, and the guy seemed to be friendly. A week after a checkup, Kyle and Hayley had gone to Safeway for some reason. It was later in the evening, and Kyle spotted his dentist walking away from the meat department. “Oh, hey!” he’d said. “You’re my dentist. Hi!”
But he hadn’t had an enthusiastic response. The few times he’d seen his old dentist in the wild, they’d had a pleasant, though brief and professional, exchange. The new dentist, though…in Safeway, he’d acted like Kyle was the scum of the earth, a person with a contagious disease. He hadn’t actually said anything, had just kind of nodded his head, glanced at Hayley, and then kept walking.
Kyle didn’t bother going to his next appointment.
Tonight, that same feeling of shame simply for being who he was settled over him like a coat as they walked around the gallery. Coming here had turned out to be a shitty idea. Finally, as they looked at the last painting in the showcase, Kyle said, “You wanna get out of here?”
“In just a minute.” She was transfixed by the painting, an impressionistic view of a mountain scene in fall and when Kyle read the title “Maroon Bells in Autumn,” he knew it was somewhere in Colorado. He’d heard of the Maroon Bells but had never seen them himself. Looking at the painting again, he understood why Scarlett was lost in it— in the background, the majestic treeless peaks that rose above timberline dusted in snow, the foreground a lake reflecting trees of green and yellow, painted in a dreamy vibe. Underneath the title, Kyle spotted the price—just under a thousand dollars. His portion of the rent and utilities at the house he shared with Adrian and Pedro wasn’t even that much. If it hadn’t been so expensive, he might have bought it for Scarlett.
But that, too, probably would make her uncomfortable.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked.
At least their last moment in this stuffy environment wasn’t so bad.
“Yeah.”
“I love it. I love it more than her other paintings—but she’s good.”
“Yeah. Some of her, um, abstract stuff already sold.”
Scarlett’s voice was soft. “Not surprising.”
She must have been feeling like a fish out of water too. Finally, she started to move away and they exited the showcase room through the opposite door—but Kyle paused when he saw a display case holding prints of several of the featured artist’s paintings they’d just observed. Quickly, he scanned through them and found a print slightly bigger than a postcard. Fifteen bucks for a miniature version of the painting Scarlett had fallen in love with.
He could definitely afford that. Even if this wound up being their one-and-only date, she’d at least have something to remember it by.
When they got to the front, the woman who’d first greeted and oriented them rang Kyle up. “I’m glad you found something.”
Kyle wasn’t about to say he couldn’t afford most of what they had on display.
When they got out of the stuffy building into the late autumn evening, Kyle relished the cold air against his cheeks, even though the temperature had noticeably dropped since they’d entered. Scarlett had already had her coat on by the time he’d finished paying for the print, and he handed the flat paper bag to her. “I got this for you.”
“You did? You didn’t have to.”
“I know—but I know you really liked that painting.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Scarlett nodded. “Maybe we should have had some of those cheese cubes.”
Kyle raised his eyebrows and then waved an arm to gesture the way across the street. “And lose our appetites for the best Italian in Silver City?” They walked the distance to the curb and then crossed the pavement. The cars parked along the side street and Main confirmed that Amato’s was popular—and busy.
And then it dawned on him: what if Amato’s was one of those places where he should have called ahead to reserve a table? Shit. He’d really fucked up this whole date so far. As they walked in the door, his heart sunk, because there wasn’t an empty table in sight.
That thought alone sent him on an old familiar spiral—but then he heard his therapist’s voice in his head and the words she’d often made him repeat: I am only responsible for my own choices. I can only change today. There are many things I cannot control.
By the time the host greeted them, his head was in a better place and he knew that all was not lost, even if his old self was already ready to accept defeat.
“How many?”
“Two.”
The man nodded, jotted a note on a pad on his table, and then grabbed two menus. “This way, please.”
The smile on Kyle’s face was one of relief, even as he wondered where the hell they would be sitting. Until the man took them down a hallway located at the center of the back wall of the restaurant, Kyle hadn’t realized how big this place was. There were doors to the kitchen on the right with the bathrooms on the left and then they entered a space just as big as the one at the front—but back here there was a bar and a quirkier atmosphere: lower ceilings, no windows, and colored lights lining the walls.
There weren’t many empty tables here either but the host placed them near the back at a small two-top with a small candle, its soft light giving the spot a romantic feel. “Your server will be right with you.”
Kyle barely thought to ask until he started to take off his jacket. “Can I help you with your coat?”
“I wish I hadn’t worn it. It’s so long and bulky.”
He tried to help her get it off but she was already working on it—and they were at the back with the only empty tables left, so they could afford to take their time. Until more people arrived, he was going to use what was available. Pulling a chair from another two-top over to their table, he said, “You can put it here.”
“Good idea.” She draped the coat over the back of the chair and then set her small purse and the paper bag with the print on the seat. “If anyone needs it, I can ask the server if I can hang my coat somewhere.”
Kyle nodded, pulling off his jacket and throwing it on the back of his own chair. As they sat down, he said, “Smells good here.”
“Yeah, it does. Thanks for bringing me here.”
“Thanks for coming.”
They had barely sat down when a woman about their age approached the table, placing between them a plate with several slices of Italian bread and a small bowl of oil, spices, and bulbs of garlic. “Hi, guys. My name’s Carly and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?”
Scarlett glanced at Kyle. “I haven’t even had a chance to think about it.”
“No problem. We serve Coke products, but we also have iced tea, coffee, and a selection of wines. Oh, and a full-service bar if there’s something you’d prefer along those lines.” A young man, probably still in high school, appeared as if on cue, placing glasses of water on the table. For a second, Kyle panicked about how much this place would cost and then he reminded himself that it was fine. He’d planned for it. And he hadn’t spent much at the art gallery. “Your wine menu is here,” she said, lifting the smaller menu on the side of the table.
“Do you want wine?” Kyle asked.
“I don’t think so.”
More relief flowed through his veins because, even though he would have bought whatever she wanted, he imagined the wine cost more than something else. “In that case, neither do I. I’ll just have a Coke.”
“And I’d like iced tea, please.”
Soon, they were alone again and Kyle said, “Guess we should hurry up and look at the menu.”
“At least we aren’t having to wait. As busy as this place is, I wondered.”
“Me too.” Kyle opened the menu in front of him and his mouth began to salivate. What the hell would he order? There were too many choices—even pizza. “What are you gonna get?” he asked after a few minutes.
“No idea.”
The server reappeared, setting their drinks in front of them. “Are you ready or do you need more time with the menu?”
“I have a question,” Scarlett said, looking up from the menu. “This is my first time here and everything looks amazing. What would you recommend?”
The server’s eyes lit up. “Well, the good news is everything on the menu is amazing, so you really can’t go wrong. But if you have a big appetite, I’d recommend one of the calzones. The gnocchi is amazing too and the ravioli is to die for.”
“Oh, that sounds great. I haven’t had ravioli in forever.”
“Meat or cheese?”
“Oh…um. I don’t know.”
“They’re both good. The meat is a blend of beef and pork and the cheese has six different varieties in it.”
“I’ll take the cheese.”
“And are you okay with Italian dressing on your salad?”
Scarlett’s eyes got slightly wider. “Sure.”
“For you, sir?”
Kyle couldn’t help but grin. Had he ever in his life been called sir ? This had to be a first. Pizza was his first choice but also ridiculous because he wasn’t going to order one for himself. “How about a calzone? That sounds good.” He wound up ordering one with meatballs and then he and Scarlett were finally alone again. “So how do we eat the bread here? Does it go with the meal?”
“I think it’s an appetizer. Just tear off some bread and dip it in the oil—or use the knife to spread the garlic on it. Or both!” As she talked, she showed him and her eyes lit up when she took a taste.
“That good?” After she nodded with enthusiasm, Kyle took a piece of bread and dipped it. “I hope you liked the gallery okay.”
“The art was breathtaking. And thanks again for the print.”
“Yeah, of course.” After a second, he said, “This is really good.”
“It is.”
After he ate another piece of bread with garlic, he said, “I don’t know about you, but I felt really out of place there.”
Scarlett looked up at him. “I’m so glad you said that. Me too. What made it worse is I felt like all the people there knew it.”
“Yeah. The owner or whoever that first woman was didn’t. She seemed pretty chill. But—”
“The rest of them. Yeah. I get the feeling they’re the richest people in Silver City, and we were slumming in their world—and they didn’t like it.”
What a relief that she felt the same way he had. Most of the people in the gallery had given them cold vibes and icy stares—but had stopped short of actually saying anything. “It was pretty uncomfortable. I kept wondering what they’d do if I farted or something.”
Scarlett burst out laughing. “I almost want to go back to try it!”
“Or what if I dropped an F bomb?”
“You might have killed one of them.”
“So I guess,” Kyle said, as the server dropped off their drinks with a smile, “our backgrounds are pretty similar. But correct me if I’m wrong.”
“Oh, didn’t you know?” Scarlett said, now feigning an accent. “After my debutante ball, I attended Yale. I was the most popular girl in my sorority and, until I graduated, I spent my summers in the Hamptons. And have you seen my Mercedes?”
“Bet it’s not as good as my Rolls-Royce.”
“I’m tapping out. Clearly, you are the more elite between the two of us.”
“Barely. Your high-rise apartment puts my place to shame.”
Scarlett picked up her glass. “If my apartment beats yours, then I feel bad for you.”
“I’ve never seen any of the above-business apartments on Main in Silver City, but we used to live in some pretty shitty places in Charlotte. Now, though, me and two of my friends in the band rent a two-story house. It’s pretty nice.”
“I bet. Do you have to do yard work?”
“Yeah. But we take turns.”
“That’s good.” Her eyes drifted to the base of her glass. “It helps when everybody pitches in.”
Kyle nodded, pinching off a piece of bread. “I wasn’t always a good roommate.” His thoughts drifted back to Hayley—all the arguments and nasty words, how he’d taken out much of his grief, insecurity, and frustration on her. He’d since apologized and they were now friends, but he knew it would probably take a lifetime for him to make it up to her.
And, as his therapist reminded him all the time, he couldn’t change the past. He could only do something in the present.
“But I do my best to be a good roommate now. And Pedro and Adrian make it easy.”
Finally, she met his eyes again. “That definitely helps.” After a second, she said, “So tell me about your job.”
“At Burger King?”
“Yeah.”
“There’s really nothing to tell.” Except he thought of a string of funny stories and kept her entertained until the food arrived. She laughed at his jokes and, something he didn’t notice until later, managed to deflect the conversation off herself.
As they ate dinner, she remained an enigma—but that made him all the more intrigued.
“This is so good,” she said, biting into her ravioli. “I don’t think I’ve had it since my dad died.”
That had to be the first thing she’d ever said about herself that was truly personal—and Kyle was nervous about saying the wrong thing, something that might send her back into hiding.
But he had to say something . “Sorry to hear you lost your dad.”
“It was hard—but not as hard as losing my mom.”
Jesus. Even though Kyle’s relationship with his mother was strained, he couldn’t imagine losing her entirely. “I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No, it’s okay. I was thirteen when my dad died but my mom passed away when I was nineteen. That was tough.”
“I bet.”
She cut into a ravioli with her fork, her eyes focused on her plate. “I cared for her as much as I could during those last days, but the chemo seemed worse than the cancer.”
Kyle tried to make sure his words were as soft as possible. “I’ve heard that.”
“But, hey,” Scarlett said suddenly, looking up from her plate with a weak smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, “this isn’t fun talk for a date. Tell me about your parents.”
Kyle wasn’t about to ruin their date with that sort of conversation, but he was also dealing with some new feelings for this woman, simply because she’d given him a peek inside.
“I don’t want to ruin your appetite. How about I tell you instead about the evolution of my band?”
“That sounds perfect.”
Almost as perfect as she was turning out to be.