Page 136 of The Fake Out

Hey, baby. Are you tired?

’Cause you’ve been running through my mind all day.

—SAM

In May, I returned to my old shift at Chicky’s. Shane even seemed happy to see me. Which didn’t last long. By the end of the evening, I’d had two complaints about my attitude and one drunk guy who was sure I’d purposely spilled a beer on him.

It sure wasn’t an accident, buddy.

On my second night back, Amanda found me and told me my presence was requested. “Don’t worry. No handsome football players.”

No, it was worse.

“Oh, the gods have smiled down on me today,” Iris crowed and held up her phone. “Smile, Mae.”

“Honey, don’t you look cute in that uniform,” Mama said. “But that shirt’s a little revealing, isn’t it?”

“Eh, leave her alone,” Sue said. “She can pull it off.”

“I could talk to your boss about letting you wear something more appropriate,” Mama offered.

“Please don’t.”

Iris held up the phone. “Damn, this picture is amazing. I’m going to get it blown up to poster size.”

“Iris, watch your mouth,” Mama said. “And put your phone away.”

I sighed. “Oh, boy, you came to Chicky’s.”

“Of course, honey. We wanted to see where you worked.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll leave you a good tip,” Sue said.

“Ha,” Iris said. “My tip is that this place needs better servers.”

“Thanks for the support.” I smiled. “Now figure out what you want to eat so you can get out of here.”

The next week, I found out that every single one of my mother’s medical bills had been paid in full. Every. Single. One.

That jerk. That beautiful, sweet jerk.

That week, I worked up the courage to text him:

Me: I do not want your money.

Me: I just mailed the check back for the FOURTH time. Stop sending it.

Me: Seriously. Don’t send it back.

Me: Or else.

Me: And I’ll find a way to pay you back for Mama’s medical bills.

Then, much later, in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep:

Me: I miss you.

He did not reply.