Chapter Ten. Outcasts
Chapter Ten
OUTCASTS
Cam was up early on Tuesday, woken by Reggie’s zoomies outside her door.
She got ready for the day, slipping into jeans and a Beau’s T-shirt Danny left out for her.
She even took the time to do something different with her hair, opting to tie it into a fun updo, one that made her feel young and summery.
When she looked in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. Over the last nine months, she’d grown used to wearing business casual in the office, and athleisure on the weekends. She spent most of her free time at home, so she stopped putting more than minimal effort into her wardrobe.
That graphic T-shirt and braided hairdo made her feel like herself again.
Maybe it was her unfamiliar reflection, or the dull ache in her arms from the hairstyling, or wearing a color—a muted golden yellow, like the shade of sand—she almost never touched.
Despite the butterflies in her stomach, she was energized when she joined Danny and Reggie in the kitchen.
Danny was leaning against the counter, eating cereal. “You look good in a Beau’s T-shirt,” he said. “Maybe you gotta start modeling for our social pages.”
“Thank you.” As she prepared her coffee, she added, “Maybe you should start selling merch. Beau’s is an Elswick staple and there’s nothing tourists love more than T-shirts.”
“It’s funny you bring that up. I’m in the process of designing some.
Well, Axel is. I asked him to make some sketches for me.
” He stashed his empty bowl in the dishwasher.
“For T-shirts, but also for a Beau’s logo.
The college kids keep getting on me about our social strategy, so we might as well have a true icon to represent the restaurant. ”
“Danny! That’s exciting. When can I see?”
“When we settle on a design. We haven’t found the right one yet. And when we do, we’ll need your help. You’re the marketing whiz, after all.”
Cam laughed. “Maybe not. I just got fired, remember?”
“A lack of passion doesn’t indicate a lack of talent.”
“In that case, just ask and I’m happy to help.”
He grinned. “That’s the spirit.”
After dropping Reggie off with Ms. Garber, they took off for Beau’s on foot. At first glimpse of the restaurant, she took a deep breath. This would be good for her. A change of pace, like Danny said.
With her head held high, she followed him inside.
After memorizing the menu, practicing the POS system, and shadowing Xavier, Cam should’ve aced day one. Been swinging for the fences, as Danny said.
But that afternoon, there were no home runs. Only strikeouts.
In her first four hours, she racked up an impressive list of fuckups.
She spilled two glasses of iced tea on her Beau’s T-shirt, she still couldn’t tell the difference between ranch and blue cheese, and despite years of playing nice with corporate political bullshit, she knew she wasn’t hiding her irritation well.
Or at least that’s why she assumed the trio of middle-aged women had left such a small tip. Cam hadn’t exactly been the bubbly summer version of herself she was striving for. Instead, she radiated stress, wearing the frustration on her face like a sheen of sunscreen.
Now, she was sticky, she was struggling to handle her tables, she had a burn on her hand from the stupid skillet they served the Old Bay mac ’n’ cheese in, Esme kept looking her way and laughing while blowing fucking bubble gum—
“Cam.”
Jolting out of her panic, Cam grabbed the finished orders for her table. Danny leaned against the kitchen wall, arms crossed as he watched her stack the shrimp tacos and kids’ grilled cheese on her tray.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Just … getting used to this.”
“You’re doing great. If Margaret van Bergen and her friends were mean, don’t take it personally. They’re always like that. They’re on the country club board, and I think they get off sticking their noses in the air.”
“Elswick has a country club?”
“Where else is everyone gonna play pickleball?”
“Are you a member of this country club?”
He gave her a look. “They’ve got a dress code, and the nicest thing I own are my running shoes.” He held up two fingers, wiggling his eyebrows. “Those cost me two hundred bucks. Supposed to be good for the arches.”
“What’s next? One of those fancy vests that hold water?”
Grinning, he shooed her. “Go! Get the food out.”
Smiling for the first time in hours, Cam delivered the food and checked on her other tables. After receiving new drink requests, she muttered the orders to herself, crossing the dining room to reach Esme.
From behind the bar, Esme rolled her eyes. She shoveled ice into a cocktail shaker and said, “Try a notepad, maybe? Or putting in a ticket?”
“A ticket.” Cam closed her eyes. “Right. I need to put in a ticket.”
Esme finished the drink she was making, handing it off to a patron at the bar. “I’ll be nice. Two Long Island iced teas,” she repeated to Cam as she started preparing the drinks. “So. How’s day one going?”
“It’s okay.” Despite the ups and downs, Cam knew the day could be worse. “There’s a learning curve but no food mix-ups, nothing spilled on customers, and I haven’t severely hurt myself yet, so … that’s something to celebrate.”
“On my first day,” Esme said, sliding over the finished drink and beginning the next one, “I called a customer a dick.”
“Oh? And … how did that work out?”
“He was hitting on me. Called me a bitch when I turned him down. Danny came over, grabbed him by his shirt, and dragged him out.”
“Danny did that?”
The Danny she knew was painfully levelheaded.
Had she ever seen him heated? She thought back to their junior year, when she and Morgan ran screaming from their apartment after discovering a mouse in the pantry.
Completely calm, Danny waltzed in with Drew’s lacrosse stick and a paper plate, captured the mouse with one flick of his wrist, and introduced the creature to its new home in the courtyard.
And fine, not everyone was queasy around vermin, but she’d never forget him sharing that on his flight from Bali to Jakarta, the engine caught fire as they landed.
Ever unbothered, Danny whipped his phone out for a selfie with the flaming wing.
The image of him pressed into the window, thumb up and eyes crinkled in amusement, only separated from the inferno by a layer of plexiglass …
Well, the memory gave her heart palpitations, and she wasn’t even there.
So, while she wasn’t surprised he’d go above and beyond to protect his staff, she couldn’t picture him dragging a customer out.
“Danny’s great at taking the trash out. It happens a lot,” Esme continued. “The tourists get especially bad on themed nights. Consequences of alcohol. Why I almost never drink.”
“You don’t drink?” Cam asked. “But you’re a bartender.”
Esme shrugged. “So, what? My job is my identity? Wouldn’t have pegged those feelings from Miss Reformed Corporate Camille.”
Sighing, Cam loaded the drinks onto her tray. “Sorry. Just trying to make conversation.”
“Don’t take it personally,” Esme replied, wiping down the bar. “I’m a bitch, remember?”
It wasn’t easy, but Cam held her tongue and focused on the job.
She dropped off the fresh drinks, checked on a couple of her tables, and then did one last round of food delivery before taking her lunch break.
Tempted by the breeze, she went to the deck, settling at one of the high-top tables overlooking the water.
After a few minutes, Danny joined her with a tray of food. Silently, he started eating a cheeseburger, and Cam stared at him, unsure what to say.
“Am I already being fired on day one?” she asked, watching as he alternated dipping fries in ranch and ketchup.
Or … she thought it was ranch. Maybe it was blue cheese.
He pushed an identical plate towards her.
“No. You’re on lunch and I thought I’d bring you food.
Julio and Kenny were a lot more excited when I fed them.
” The boys—or they felt like boys at nineteen—were both URI students who worked the summer season while home for break. “Now eat before the food gets cold.”
She ate a fry, watching as he decimated his burger in a few bites. But unlike his unrelenting appetite, her stomach was overloaded with nerves, negating any hunger she had. “I want you to be honest with me. Am I awful and the worst server you’ve ever had?”
“You’re not. You don’t think that, right?”
She shrugged, picking at her food. “No. I don’t. But … maybe I thought this would come easier to me. I can memorize, I can move fast, I can do small talk. So why do I feel like everyone hates me and I’m one exhale away from dropping seventy dollars’ worth of food?”
“You can’t be a natural at everything,” he said. “Maybe this is your hard thing.”
She sighed, dropping her head. “I thought I survived my hard thing. I thought it was calculus.”
“Hey, I’m here to help. The entire staff is. You’re gonna be okay.”
She believed him, and the encouragement settled her nerves enough for her to dig into her food. “It’s first-day jitters,” she explained. “I’ll get through it. So … thank you for everything, Danny.”
“I owed you one.” He winked, dimples prominent on his cheeks.
“Do you remember how senior year, I had to take that stupid IR class for my last GE? I was ready to float by with a C minus, anything for the credit. But you found out and forced me to take it seriously. Claimed it would benefit me in the long run to do well.”
“I remember.”
“You encouraged me to study,” he continued, “and since I did, I got a B. And because of that B, I graduated with a 3.0 exactly. Any lower for that class and my GPA would’ve dropped into the twos.
And you know I didn’t care, but it was nice to tell my parents I graduated with a B average.
That maybe I wasn’t as much of a fuckup as they thought I was. ”
“Of course you did well when you studied,” she said. “You’re smart. You just never applied yourself.” As she ate, she thought over his words. “Honestly, I didn’t know you graduated with a 3.0. That’s really good.”
But her response was met with silence. When she shifted her focus from crispy fries to Danny, he was watching the beach, biting his bottom lip. He’d straightened on the stool, and the unnatural rigidness of his posture couldn’t have been comfortable.
“Danny?”
“You four always thought that.” His focus never left the water. “That I didn’t apply myself, or I didn’t try hard enough, or I was on the cusp of academic probation. All because I didn’t give a shit about graduating with honors or scoring internships at the Big Four.”
She frowned. “Come on. All I meant was—”
“I know what you meant.”
“Danny—”
“No matter what I said or did,” he interrupted, “you all could never grasp that corporate life wasn’t the only way. I don’t know if it was our classes brainwashing us or what but … sometimes I felt like I was screaming into the void. I can be successful on an untraditional path.”
“I know that,” she replied, “and you’ve already made such a huge impact. Xavier told me about getting everyone health insurance. That’s life-changing, and it’s only the start of all the amazing things you’ll do.”
He nodded slowly, like he didn’t believe her. “Did you think I was crazy for traveling after graduation? With no job lined up, no experience, nothing?”
Honesty was important to them. So, even though she wasn’t brave enough to meet his eyes, she said, “I did. But…”
“But what?”
“But I was also jealous. Because a month after graduation, I had nine-hour workdays in a windowless cubicle, and you were eating pho in Vietnam and biking through Cambodia.”
“My parents thought I was crazy. Irresponsible.” He glanced at Beau’s, frowning. “I told you guys I saved up enough money but … I didn’t. I had some, but it wasn’t enough. Uncle Beau gave me the rest.”
When he shifted in his chair, she thought she saw tears in his eyes.
“He came to graduation, and I told him my six-month trip would only be three months because of money issues. Immediately, he pulled out his checkbook. Like it was nothing. He told me to explore. To live my life without regrets.”
Tears streamed down his cheeks, putting her on the brink of crying, too.
“It was the last time I saw him. He didn’t tell anyone he was sick.
He didn’t want a funeral, so my dad told me not to fly back when he died.
When I returned, I learned he left nearly everything to me.
Not just Beau’s. The triplex, an old plot of land a few miles up the road, his brokerage account, even a couple of fast-food joints he franchised.
Nearly forty years of blood, sweat, and tears signed over.
He and my dad didn’t grow up poor, but they were just typical middle-class kids.
Beau went from skipping college because he didn’t get any scholarships like my dad, to paying for most of my tuition. ”
He swallowed, and added, “When I first got to Elswick, my parents and Beau’s attorney took me through everything and … I found all the postcards I sent him. He saved them. Stuck them to the fridge. He even wrote response letters to them he didn’t send.”
“Danny…”
“My parents used to laugh Beau off. Couldn’t see the achievement and celebration in owning a business, and spending your days serving people.
Making them happy. Hell, they didn’t even want me to keep Beau’s.
But I did, because I know Beau was so much happier than either of them has ever been.
I want what he had. This place was his life.
He helped me live mine, and now, I wanna keep his going, even with him gone. ”
She rounded behind him, throwing her arms over his shoulders so she could hug him. He smelled of sunscreen and the barest hint of cologne. “He was brave,” she said, “just like you’re brave. You’re doing what you want, not what others tell you to do. I wish I had the guts to do that.”
His hands rose, covering her arms over his chest. “You can, Milly. Life isn’t worth living if you fill it with regrets.”
“I’m trying. Why do you think I’m here?”
He turned to look at her, back to his usual, easygoing self. “It’s not to cry with me? Quote motivational posters? Brainstorm greeting card messages?”
She leaned against his clothed back, vibrating with laughter. “I’ll cry with you whenever. Same goes for thinking of cheesy quotes. That’s what friends are for.”
“Yeah.” His hands relaxed on her arms. “Friends.”