24. Adam
Adam
“ I just want everyone to be prepared for the holiday rush.”
I called my staff in for a bi-monthly meeting. We’ve slacked off on working like a team and with Christmas and New Year’s Eve rolling around I need everyone to be prepared. As it’s still the off-season, Jeff and I switch off mid-day and night shifts. The night shifts, while I enjoy the hustle and bustle, take me away from Dylan too often.
How I came into owning this restaurant was pure luck. When a distant relative I had never met passed away, confusion hit when I was left with a sizable inheritance. It was enough that I could afford to have built a big enough house for me and Chelsea, and eventually Dylan.
The previous tenant in this space had a dwindling business and I saw the potential when my realtor sent me spaces to look at. My offer was accepted and renovations for this place started soon after. My restaurant is located in the heart of the city. We’ve hosted baby showers, wedding showers, bachelor and bachelorette parties, birthdays, and other events that are worthy of celebrating. During the summer we convert to more of a bar with live music every Friday and Saturday night.
Jeff clears his throat from next to me. “We have a few dinner reservations throughout the week and lunch parties every Saturday and Sunday. The schedule will reflect who’s working with whom.”
I stand off to the side as I watch Jeff indicate what’s expected of everyone. Glancing around, I see appreciative looks from my staff. Jeff took to his role perfectly and every day I thank whomever that they sent him here.
I feel my phone buzz in my jeans pocket and make no move to look at who’s texting me. Tuning back into the now, I see everyone nodding their heads before gathering their belongings.
Shit !
Jeff looks at me with a pointed stare knowing that I zoned out. Him and Tammy, my lead chef, are the last two in the main dining room with me.
“Sorry,” I sheepishly tell them.
They glance at one another before Tammy speaks up. “Bossman, are you sure you’re okay?”
Tammy has been with me from the start. She’s closer to my parent’s age, so she’s seen every face I have to offer.
“Yeah. Yeah, I promise I’m good. If you two are good for the rest of the day, I’m gonna head out.”
I ignore their pointed and concerned stares. Patting my jeans I feel for my keys and pull my phone out when I push open the door to leave.
Emily: Hey. Any chance you want to get a coffee?
It’s been a while since I’ve seen or heard from her. I thought she decided to blow me off. I know she’s resistant to starting a friendship with her student’s Dad, but I meant what I said in that I’m not going anywhere.
Me: Yeah. I’m just walking out from a meeting. Wanna meet at Millennial Bean?
Emily: Perfect. I’ll see you soon.
Me: See you soon.
I make the short drive to the coffee shop that’s located in the Hill, which houses a handful of restaurants and bars that naturally attract millennials and young college students looking for a place to blow off steam.
I love this area. It’s where I always pictured myself raising kids. Dylan loves it here, so I love the feeling that I did something right. Anytime we come here, he always begs to go get ice cream. Can’t say I blame him. The Twisted Cow has some of the best ice cream I’ve ever had.
Parking my truck, I look out at the town square and at the small amount of people walking around. It is mid-December and with the chill from the river swooping in it’s not shocking with how sparse the area is.
My mind goes into overdrive as I wonder why today of all days Emily reached out to me. I slide my body out of my truck and walk towards the coffee shop. I tug my beanie over my ears and shove my hands in my jacket pocket to keep from completely freezing as I walk to the entrance.
I’m not sure why my heart is pounding. It’s just coffee.
With a woman I can’t stop thinking about.
In a twist of perfect timing, Emily and I walk up to the coffee shop at the same time.
The wind whips loose tendrils of hair across her face and her cheeks take on a rosy hue from the cold. I’ve now seen her at night at my restaurant, at a parent-teacher conference, and now at the coffee shop. She gets more and more beautiful. I have to drop my gaze down to my feet to gather my thoughts.
“Hi,” she begins by way of greeting.
“Hey yourself.” I volley back. Hey yourself? My fingers curl into my palms until the bite of my nails has me clenching my jaw.
She makes an awkward hand gesture towards the door. “Shall we?”
“Oh, right.” I move around her and open the door. She gives me a small smile as she walks across the threshold.
The smell of coffee hits me and soothes my mind. Espresso beans being ground mix with the sounds of a contemporary music soundtrack. Only a few tables are occupied. Since it’s winter break, the college students have gone home for the month, leaving the locals to come out of hibernation.
The barista greets us at the counter and I can’t help but mentally comment on the customer service. “Are we going to be together or separate?”
It seems we both have brain farts because it takes a moment for our brains to catch up with our mouths.
Emily opens her mouth to respond, but I beat her to it, “Together please.”
The barista's friendly smile almost makes me forget about the open-mouthed face Emily is trying to hide. Tack on the red flush covering her face and I know she didn’t think about this step either.
I motion for Emily to rattle off her order and then I step up to do the same. Once I pay, we both survey the space for a table. Emily makes the first move and picks one right by the window, overlooking the courtyard with the downtown cityscape in the background.
When we’re both settled, I survey her. She looks lighter than the last time I saw her. Her eyes no longer hold deep, aching sadness.
“Why are you staring at me?” Emily questions me.
I try to hold back a smile that wants to take over. “Do you really want to know?”
Her mouth twists before she nods her head in response.
“You look lighter.”
“Um…”
Leaning forward, I rest my arms on the table. “I mean lighter in the sense that you don’t look so weighed down by life.”
She surveys me the same way I did her. I’m assuming she found what she was looking for if it’s any indication by the small smile that lifts her cheeks. “I decided at the last minute to go home for Thanksgiving break. It was incredibly messy. But also freeing in a way I didn’t expect it to be.”
My name being called for our drinks pulls me away from Emily. A mutual smile is held between us before I head up to the counter. I place a five dollar bill in the tip jar before grabbing our drinks and head back to the table.
“Thank you.” Emily tells me as she accepts her drink.
“Anytime. So you went home for your break? Why was it messy?”
She blows out a breath and leans back in her chair. “My parents and I have a loving but complicated relationship. It’s been like that since high school and hasn’t gotten out of the ‘it’s complicated’ phase.”
“Why was it complicated?”
“They moved us out of the city when I was going into high school with the reasoning being for me. They wanted me to have the normal high school experience in a home, but that didn’t necessarily include them being there. So I was left to be a teenager in a new school without my parent’s home to greet me when I got back from school. They missed a lot. And I don’t think they’ve forgiven themselves enough to move forward.”
Her eyes take on a slight sheen as if she’s remembering that feeling all over again. “But I think we had a turning point when I went home. At least I hope we did.”
I can’t imagine what it’s like to spend critical moments without your parents around. I’m lucky mine were involved when they needed to be. Of course, I don’t voice that. Because even now I know how hypocritical it is to state how having involved parents is.
“That’s good, Emily.”
She smiles a real smile. And it’s breathtaking. A dimple peaks through on her right cheek and her eyes crinkle at the corners. Though her eyes are still tinged with a little bit of sadness, it’s still a smile. “Thanks. So how was your Thanksgiving? It’s hard to get a flushed-out recap with first graders.”
“It was lowkey. My parents are traveling and we don’t have extended family in the area, it’s just Dyl and I.”
“I’m sorry,” Emily says with a voice that almost makes me want to wrap her in a hug.
I shake my head to shake it off. “It’s alright. We FaceTimed with them and I made a turkey in the deep fryer. So it was a solid Thanksgiving.”
She surveys me again and I feel like I’m under a microscope. I won’t admit to anyone that not having my parents around can get lonely. Explaining to your six-year-old why your grandparents travel more than they spend time with you is a tough conversation to have. Although explaining why his Mom didn’t choose him, I’ll never be able to avoid that conversation.
“So what about you?” I jump before she has a chance to ask another question that makes me mournful. “What do you like to do when you’re not teaching?”
“Uh oh.” Emily adjusts her position and leans back, crossing her legs. “This almost sounds like a date conversation starter. And I don’t date my students' parents.”
“Six months until you’re not his teacher anymore. But who’s counting?” I wink and her jaw drops.
She leans up to the table. Our faces are only a foot apart. And this close I can see her eyes so clearly. The golden swirls of her irises mix with the brown. The pulse in her neck thumps steadily at our back and forth.
“Are you always this flirty?” Her question comes out in a breathy whisper.
“Are you always this shy?”
Her left eyebrow quirks up. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
That doesn’t surprise me. “To answer your question, only when I think it’ll lead me somewhere.”
Emily snorts and takes a few sips of her drink sitting back in her chair. I drop my stare and focus on my own coffee. The rest of our time at Millennial Bean is spent with surface-level talk. I’ve never been one to pour my heart out to someone I barely know. And it seems Emily is the same way.
But I take away one thing from this coffee date, and if she denies it’s a date, I’ll continue to call it that for a laugh. Emily is not like anyone I’ve ever met. In my job, I’ve studied thousands of people. Hazard of helping out as a bartender when my guys get swamped. I can tell when they’ll pour their life story out for me to react. Or if they’ll keep everything bottled until they have another place to vent.
I think Emily has so many layers that it could take months to learn her.
If she feels even the tiniest tingle like I do when I’m around her, then one day she won’t be so hard to read.