Chapter 21
Olivia
Now
For a week, we work with the staff who want overtime pay to help with bringing the idea to life.
No one’s surprised that the money doesn’t entice Steven to stay longer, so Carmello’s responsible for figuring out what small plates he could serve.
I leave this part up to him, not wanting to assume what would be feasible for him to do alone after I’m gone.
Vero volunteers to be part of the trial date experience and says maybe they’ll bring her partner’s other woman along.
The more the merrier, I tell her. She cuts her eyes and says it was just a joke.
Since the food truck event, she’s back to being distant with me, but at least she’s invested in our idea.
She has an eye for mood decor and knows how to thrift in order to stay on a budget, so she ropes Bobby into going around town with her to find things we need.
Bobby hangs up the LED neon signs they get featuring sayings like This must be the place.
Zeke starts putting the word out about Table for Twos-Days, and we’re already getting some interest for the real first night.
An unexpected highlight: Laniah Thompson met me for mocktails twice to help with financial questions, and we ended up talking about personal things. I’m finding comfort sharing my struggles with someone who also lives with a chronic illness, and I think she is too.
It’s a Friday night and the restaurant is closed.
Denise gave me a brilliant idea after she went to her friend Kathy’s baby shower the other day.
Kathy’s an entrepreneur, and a marriage and family therapist. She’s the owner of this card game called SinBobo that helps parents (soon-to-be, new, and seasoned) talk to each other about things that might otherwise be harder to bring up.
“Would be dope if you had some cards at each table for the dates to get to know each other in a fun way,” Denise said.
And since then, I’ve been having Debra help me come up with cards for Celia’s Place because she has a talent for getting people to open up about the most personal things.
But she ditched me tonight to go meet her friends in Newport and have drinks on a dock by the water.
I’m alone at the front-of-house at Celia’s, sitting in a booth and jotting down possible questions to run by her, when Carmello finds me.
He picks up one of the stacks and says, “An astrology deck, huh?”
I search his sleepy face, noticing it’s a relaxed look rather than drained—like he finished the work he has to do for the day and that weight off his shoulders has made it so he can rest.
“Debra and I thought it’d be good,” I say, “even though most men seem put off by it.”
“Not all men,” he says with a shrug. “I think it could be interesting.”
“It will help weed people out, that’s for sure,” I say.
Carmello was indifferent to astrology our first year together.
He never agreed when I used to say common knowledge among astrologers was that our signs weren’t a match, but he was also never upset when I compared us using the planets and stars.
I’m a Sagittarius, he’s a Taurus. As time went on, he picked up on the differences between our signs himself.
“Wasn’t expecting anyone to still be here,” he says.
“I wanted to finish this other deck tonight,” I say, tapping the cards in front of me, “but I’m not sure the questions feel right, so I’ll have to wait until Debra can go through them.”
He surprises me by sitting down. Our feet are close under the table; I can feel the hum of energy that is his body near my body.
Memories come of my leg draped over his when we took work breaks to do homework here.
I pull back, cross my ankles. If he notices, he doesn’t show it.
We’ve been working so well together, laughing and talking and relying on each other in the kitchen, but I’ve made it a mission to avoid as many touches as possible while doing so, not just for him but for my sake too.
Letting go requires discipline. The actions are easier to control with the brain than with the heart.
I’m usually gone before he locks up for the day, so we haven’t been alone like we are now. But I lost track of time tonight.
“We can go through them together,” he says.
A warning bell rings in my head. “It’s late,” I say. “I should pack up so you can leave.”
He scrubs at his eye with the back of his hand, the drowsiness coming quickly now that he’s seated. “My father picked up Teddy from school today. They had a guys’ day without me,” he says with a smile. “They’re bowling but they’ll be coming soon so I can bring Teddy home.”
The corners of my mouth curve too. It’d be nice to see Teddy.
I haven’t since the day I met him. But I also haven’t seen Carmello’s dad in a decade, and I’m not sure the man ever liked me much.
He was strict about how Carmello was spending his time when he wasn’t studying, in school, or working, which meant I was a distraction.
The thought of running into him now makes me slightly uncomfortable.
But then Carmello reads off one of the cards: “What’s the strongest animal you might be able to beat in a fight?” He looks at me, brows bunching together, tilting his head.
“Okay, so some of them are silly, but that’s the point,” I say. “Have to have lighthearted moments between the deeper stuff or the dates might become too heavy.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” he says.
“I bet I could take on a lion,” I say.
His eyes flick over the parts of my body he can see above the table and a flash of heat cuts across my chest, and I’m wondering if he’s thinking about the parts he can’t.
“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “I could see that.”
I snort and snatch the cards from him. “What’s one thing you want to do before you die?”
After reading it out loud, I wonder if I should’ve picked a different question. I’m sure Celia had a bucket list and doubt she had time to accomplish all of it. But Carmello doesn’t seem shaken by the card. He doesn’t take too long to consider either. “I want to see the Philippines.”
I’m not sure what I assumed about where he’d traveled, but I would have suspected he’d been with his mom a time or two since I’ve been gone.
I know she didn’t travel there much in the first fifteen years of his life—he was young and she had the business here to think about—but they always planned to go together.
“I’m surprised you never went with your mom. ”
“She wanted to take a trip together before she died, but the cancer was progressing too fast and the long flight…” He pulls his eyes from me. “It just couldn’t happen.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, ignoring the ache to reach across the table and squeeze his hand.
“I’ve only been once for about a week when I was trying to hit a few of the countries in Southeast Asia in one trip, but it’s stunning.
” I don’t tell Carmello that it was also a little weird.
My father is so far removed from his family and culture, I didn’t get to meet up with any of my extended family while I was there.
“I hope you’ll get to see it one day. Your mom would want you to still. ”
He meets my gaze. Releases a frustrated breath and I’m not sure if I said something wrong, but then he says, “If I can get over my fear of flying, it’ll be the first country I visit.”
This confession catches me completely off guard. “Carmello Rodriguez,” I say. “Are you telling me you’ve never been out of the country? Like at all?”
“Yes, Olivia Jones. That’s what I’m saying.” He opens his mouth to read the question off the card he just pulled from my hand, trying to change the subject.
I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “Nah-uh. Hold it right there.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is,” I say. “When did you become afraid of flying?”
“A long time ago,” he says. When I give him a look, he sighs. “You’re so unrelenting.”
“Don’t you adore that about me?” I ask.
“Sometimes,” he says, so serious it warms my belly.
He clears his throat and I swallow. “We had bad turbulence going to Chicago to visit my dad’s family the year before I met you.
People were screaming and praying. A flight attendant fell in the aisle and got injured.
My mom never wanted me to travel without her after that.
And I was scared too. It took me years to get on a plane again.
Then, for my twenty-first birthday, Zeke and I planned a trip to Miami.
As you could imagine, he talked shit. ‘You’re a grown man, Mello.
You’ll be good.’ It was a short flight. I figured it would be fine.
Turns out planes can run out of gas in the air. Did you know that?”
I put my hand to my mouth, but he sees my shoulders shake with laughter.
He narrows those pretty eyes at me. “I apologize for laughing,” I say, “it’s just…
I travel so much. And it actually happens more than people know.
It must’ve been scary to hear you had to make a pit stop for some gas though.
” He nods and I think of how he knew that I wanted to go everywhere in the world.
We’d planned to fly to different countries together once we saved up money from working.
Was he going to face those fears for me and never say anything about it?
“Did you ever get on one again?” I ask to distract from the fluttering feeling in my stomach.