Chapter 6 Wayan
six
Wayan
“Okay, that’s beginner's luck.” Fern shakes her head and takes a sip of her beer, the same kind that I ordered to go along with the boneless wings and fries. “Or maybe you’re cheating.” She laughs, setting her beer mug back on the table.
“I can’t help it if that’s the twentieth match in a row.” I shrug.
We’re having supper at the Tipsy Tavern and playing the icebreaker game Aspen sent with Fern for me to practice, but instead of playing alone, I convinced Fern to join me.
“Yup, Sug. I’ve been watching your man, and he’s not cheating. You two really are a perfect match.” Our waitress, Shirley, drops off another basket of wings for bottomless wing night.
“He’s not my man.” Fern quickly corrects her.
Shirley glances between us, and I can almost hear her thoughts as she looks at the cards on the table with our nearly identical answers.
“If he’s not your man, then one of you must be psychic because no amount of luck could match the number of identical answers you’ve given tonight, and I should know—you’ve been sitting in my section for the last three hours playing that damn game.
” There’s no anger in her words, only the wisdom of someone who’s worked in the public for years, who knows how to read the situation.
“Thank you for your service.” I nod at her.
“You will be greatly rewarded with our tip when we leave here tonight.” She rolls her eyes and walks away from our table, mumbling something about if we ever leave here tonight.
“How about a dance?” I hold out my hand to Fern, waiting for her to take it.
When she hesitates, I wonder if I’ve pushed my luck tonight or gone too far by asking for a dance.
“Sure.” She takes my hand, and I sigh in relief. I want tonight to be perfect, so I want her to be as comfortable as possible touching me. I don’t think that will be a problem, but I don’t want to take any chances.
We find a spot on the crowded dancefloor just as the music switches to a slow song. I place her arms around my neck before putting my arms around her hips and pulling her close against my body. She tries to step back, but I pull her closer.
“What if someone sees us dancing this close?” she whispers into my ear, and I wonder if I've gone too far tonight.
“Who cares what anyone thinks? As far as I’m concerned, we’re just two friends hanging out at a bar and dancing.”
“Yeah, right because you slow dance with a lot of your friends.”
“Only the ones I plan to see naked later tonight.” I lift her and swing her around in my arms, making her laugh, the sound going straight to my heart. This is how our lives should always be—playing games, going out to eat, dancing, and having sex.
“Speaking of seeing me naked…” I cut her off before she can finish, hauling her back to our table to settle our bill with Shirley. “This isn’t a date. At least let me pay my half.” She argues.
“Look, honey, when a man as fine as yours wants to pay for things, you let him. Or some other woman is going to snatch him away from right under you. And before you try to tell me some nonsense about how he’s not your man, answer this question for me.
Why are you in such a rush to leave here?
” Fern blinks her eyes, then opens and closes her mouth as if she wants to say something, but nothing comes out.
“See, you can’t answer me, can you?” Shirley continues.
“I tell you what, if you somehow prove me wrong and that the two of you aren’t together, I’ll give you back this generous tip.
” Shirley holds up the wad of money I just set on the table for her.
Fern glances at me, and I see the longing in her eyes until her pride takes over, and she turns toward Shirley to offer her hand to shake, “Deal.”
“I’ll right, but if I’m right, your young man doubles my tip.”
Fern looks back at me for confirmation on the bet. When I nod, she clasps Shirley’s hand in a firm handshake. “It’s a bet.”