16. Gabby
16
Gabby
T he sun is still high in the sky and the breeze flowing through my open car windows feels like a warm blanket as I pull into the restaurant’s parking lot. Summer is in full swing and it’s by far my favorite time of year. I hope this is a sign of good things to come. Seeing Alex’s reaction tonight nearly gutted me, and I almost called the whole thing off. But Alex deserves someone who can love him unconditionally, and while I want to, I just can’t.
It’s not like I haven’t tried to work past my grief. I went to counseling and even joined a support group for a short time. Maybe it was due to my young age, but I never found anyone I connected with or felt safe enough around to fully open up about my feelings. Eventually, I gave up and decided to figure out how to get through life on my own. Which brings me back to my current situation.
Parking Stinky, I scan the lot, looking for Josh’s car, and kick myself when it dawns on me that I don’t know what he drives. Thankfully, we exchanged numbers earlier, so I send him a quick text to let him know I’m here. He replies instantly, saying he’ll meet me outside. I walk toward the front of the restaurant. Its dark awning is covered with tiny fairy lights, and for a moment, it reminds me of a few weeks ago when Alex took me to count the stars. God, that felt like such a magical evening. Some nights I lie in bed and pretend I’m back there with him all snuggled up under the blankets. Once, I even typed out a text to see if we could count stars again, but then I realized I’d be leading him on and deleted it before I hit send. I’m sure I’m giving him mixed signals and that’s not fair to Alex.
“Gabby, you look stunning.” Josh interrupts my thoughts as he walks up to me and hands me a small bouquet of flowers.
“Thank you.” I politely accept the gift. Flowers—ugh. But it’s not his fault. It’s not like I announce my aversion to everyone. Aly is petrified of seafood and all things related to what goes on beneath the ocean’s surface. She uses the excuse of allergies to get by. It sounds kind of crazy, but now I wonder if I should borrow that idea. “I’m surprised you had time to get flowers. How was your meeting?”
“It ended earlier than expected.” He opens the door to the restaurant. “So I stopped by the florist and had a few drinks at the bar while waiting for you.”
I look down and fidget with the bouquet. If he got out of his meeting early, why didn’t he let me know or at least offer to pick me up? I’m sure it’s for the best this way. Alex would’ve grilled him with questions.
Josh reads the confusion written all over my face. “I hope you don’t mind. The meeting didn’t go as planned and I figured a few drinks would help me unwind before seeing you.”
“Oh.” I chew on my bottom lip. “I guess that makes sense. I’m sorry your meeting didn’t go well. ”
“At least I had something to look forward to tonight.” He takes a lock of my hair and twirls it. I brush his hand away and take a step back. Unfazed by my response, Josh just gives a grin that doesn’t sit well with me. I shake off the alarm bells in my head. I’ve never dated as an adult. Maybe this is normal behavior and I’m unfamiliar with it. Or maybe I’m just worried about Alex and it’s clouding my judgment.
The hostess shows us to our table. It’s right in the center of the dining room and covered with a crisp white tablecloth. A candle in a hurricane lamp flickers off to the side. I’ve passed this place many times but have never eaten here. It’s not super upscale, but it’s definitely classier than The Local. Josh, acting like a gentleman, pulls out my chair. As I sit down, I notice a faint smell of alcohol. I wonder how much he had to drink before I arrived.
“How early did your meeting end?” I ask as he takes a seat across from me. A waiter comes over, hands us our menus, and fills our glasses with water.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Josh’s head bobs a bit. “Two maybe three hours ago.”
“Two or three hours?!” My mouth gapes open at his answer.
“I’ll have another one of those Long Island iced teas,” he says to the waiter, then points to me. “She’ll have one too.”
“Oh! Umm…I’m fine with water.” I smile politely at the waiter. I’m not much of a drinker, but on the occasion when I do indulge, it’s usually something decadent and chocolaty.
“No, no, I insist. The bartender here makes them just right.” Josh brushes me off and I realize the waiter has already left.
“Okay,” I concede. I suppose I can take a sip or two. “Do you come here often?”
“This is my first time back since I left a few years ago.” Josh pokes at the candle in the hurricane lamp and I’m grateful that there’s a glass barrier between the flame and his finger. “In all those years, everything has stayed the same. Starboard Beach is stuck in a time warp.”
“You really feel that way?” I ask, feeling defensive of the town I’ve grown to love. Growing up in a more urban area, I was used to constant changes. Businesses were always changing and moving, trying to keep up with the latest trends. It felt like every year, I had to find a new coffee shop to frequent because the ones I loved would inevitably go under due to all the competition. Starboard Beach might not be the most modern place in the world, but it’s consistent and I appreciate that.
“I do. I’ve always felt like this town has suffocated me. I’m bigger and better than this.” He puffs out his skinny chest. “There’s more to life for me than just this place.”
The waiter comes back with our drinks, and we place our orders. I stay conservative with a small pasta dish while Josh chooses a prime rib dinner with a ton of sides. I hope the large meal will help absorb some of the alcohol he’s consumed. I don’t think he’s as sober as he’s pretending to be.
“If you don’t like this place, why did you come back?” Annoyance stirs within me. Who the hell is this guy to think he’s better than, well, anyone?
“It was the only place that would take me back.”
“It was what?” I ask incredulously. A million questions enter my mind, but I’m left dumbstruck as Josh takes his drink and begins to chug it. “I…umm…I don’t think you’re supposed to do that.”
“It’s fine.” He slams his empty glass on the table, making everything shake. I feel all eyes on me as diners from surrounding tables turn toward the source of the noise.
“You know what? Maybe we should call this a night. Something must’ve really stressed you out today.” I try to make my voice sound as gentle as possible. I don’t want to draw any more of a crowd.
“My life is over,” Josh slurs, ignoring my request. “I can’t keep running like this.”
“Um…running?” I nervously scan the restaurant, wondering if anyone can hear my dining companion.
“You perform one wrong surgery on a patient and suddenly you’re slapped with a malpractice suit.” He reaches across the table, grabs my drink, and proceeds to chug it like the last one.
I open my mouth to say something but quickly snap it shut. How do you even respond to that? ?Cómo me metí en este lío? How did I get myself into this mess? I would give anything to be back home surrounded by my friends.
“Did it ever occur to anyone that I’m under stress? It’s not easy being a proctologist,” Josh says rhetorically. “And the jokes. I’m always the butt of everyone’s jokes.” He waves his hand, knocking his water glass to the floor. Thankfully, it doesn’t shatter, but my dress is now soaked.
“Is everything okay here?” the waiter asks while placing our meals before us.
“I-I’m not sure.” A clunking noise makes everyone in the room jump. I turn my focus away from the waiter to see Josh has face-planted right into his plate.
“Is he dead?!” The waiter jumps back and yells. If we didn’t have everyone’s attention a few minutes ago, we sure do now.
I jump out of my seat, remove his head from the mashed potatoes, and check his pulse. “No, he’s just passed out,” I assure the petrified waiter. “I need to go make a phone call.” I grab my purse and scramble out the door. Part of me wants to jump in my car and hightail it out of there, but morally and ethically, I can’t do that. Instead, I pull out my phone and call the one person who I know will always come to my rescue.