What You Let Us See #2
I shook my head. “Don’t be.” I understood why his food made my mouth water. “It’s fun watching you work.”
He looked down at his white chef’s jacket. Between the grease stains and yellow speckles of egg, he grinned. “You mean this mess?”
“It’s a hot mess,” I said with a grin.
“Good answer.”
He pulled a slice of bacon off a plate. Reaching over the box, he slid it into my mouth.
I snatched it from his hand and chomped away at the juiciest piece of Maplewood bacon I had ever eaten.
While I wrangled it with my tongue, Simon took the box and set it on a counter.
I leaned against the wall, trying not to moan while I savored the succulent piece of meat.
“Keep feeding me bacon, and I’ll tell you anything you want to hear.”
He tugged at the top of the box, pulling open the flaps. I expected another explosion of rainbows, but this time, I spotted browns, yellows, and grays. He pulled out a handful of hand-sized squares.
“I’ll have napkins for a year.”
“Bear flag, huh? Cute.”
He held them up so I could see the bistro’s logo in the middle. “Do you think they’re too much?”
“You’re asking me if they’re too much?”
“I know they’re kitsch for Mabel.” His expression flattened. “What’s Mike say?”
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but Simon separating Mabel’s opinion from mine made me smile. If she were to be let out, she’d have commented that they needed more pizzazz. Sequins. Gemstones. Rarely did she go for the understated. If something didn’t scream, then it wasn’t loud enough.
“I think you’ll be explaining the bear flag to—”
“Gloria is making a trans-colored quilt.”
Firefly Valley’s determination to accept everybody warmed my heart. It wasn’t a pithy saying on a tourism pamphlet. They’d make themselves a beacon for people who felt othered.
“Gladys is still trying to process non-binary gendering, but I heard her call somebody ‘they’ this morning. I never thought Firefly would get there, but damn if they’re not trying.”
“You’re wasting your life.”
Both our heads turned to the door as a man’s voice roared through the bistro’s usual murmurings. This wasn’t the usual hollering when a local walked in, and the chorus shouted their welcomes.
“I told you, I don’t want it.” I knew that voice. Sammy.
“What the hell?” Simon wiped his hands along the front of his jacket and headed for the door. I followed behind to see a full dining room pretending to mind their own business and failing.
In the corner booth, the same one where I had been seated with Sammy, sat Sammy and another man. It took a moment before I realized it was the man who had been arguing earlier in the day. Apparently, wherever he went, he left a path of scorched earth.
“Your hobby is cute, but this is a real business.”
My eyes widened as I figured out the mystery man’s identity. They couldn’t have been more different. His father remained a slender man with a hawkish nose. Compared to Sammy’s girth and muscles, he almost appeared frail. However, he talked as if he were the most important man in the room.
“Stop acting like a child,” he growled. Even Gladys flinched at the comment. “Time to grow up. Anybody else would be grateful for the offer.”
More eyes were turning. For the first time, I watched Firefly turn angry. They stopped minding their own business and turned in their chairs. The glares were enough to burn a hole through the back of the man’s head.
“It’s always about you,” Sammy said. His hands had balled into fists. He paused, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Stop acting like you’re doing me a favor. It’s just another chance for you to feel superior.”
“Sampson—”
“The answer is no. It will always be no. I pity whoever suffers in your shadow.”
Damn. Sammy didn’t hold back. His lips parted as if he would continue tearing through his father.
He leaned back in his chair. His shoulders dropped, and he opened his hands.
I could tell he was practicing his breathing.
In through the nose, and out through the mouth, he repeated it several times.
Finding his grounding only made his father more agitated.
“Sampson, this is your—”
Sammy’s hand shot up. “No.”
“Sampson, don’t test me.”
“You got my answer.” He stood. Sammy towered over his father. I wanted to applaud him for standing up to his dad and not staying for the verbal assault. It had been messy, but he had done it.
“Bye, Dad.”
Before he reached the door, he caught me staring. I stood frozen like every other eavesdropper. I had witnessed the very thing he had been dreading. Unlike everybody staring, I understood the struggle behind his actions. It didn’t make me feel any less gross for partaking secondhand.
The pastel purple shirt with “Free Hugs” written across the chest didn’t match the pain on his face. His palm hit the door, throwing it open. He vanished, storming away from the bistro. I prepared to run after him, but his father stood. I froze.
He straightened his tie and buttoned his suit jacket as if nothing unusual had happened. The eyes of Firefly watched, every expression hinting at the underlying anger. Nobody dared to speak up. Without a sense of urgency, Sammy’s dad exited. I took another step forward when Simon caught my arm.
“It’s family business,” he said. “Don’t get in the middle.”
“But—”
“Be there for him after,” he said. “He’ll need you.”
Every bone in my body wanted to grab Sammy and whisk him away from his father. Simon had a point. Sammy needed to do this for himself. He had decided, and in the long run, he’d be better for it… or at least I hoped. I already brainstormed an adventure to take his mind off his father.
Dorothy stood at the table, hands on her hips. “Bastard didn’t even tip.”