Page 138 of The Fake Out

Mama got stronger and, with her medical bills paid off, it helped make paying for more therapy manageable. So much so, I dropped down to two nights a week at Chicky’s and allowed myself one whole day of rest. Which was mostly spent doing chores and laundry.

As for Chris? I began texting him each night even though he never replied. I understood why. I’d hurt him. He’d been willing to figure out a way and I’d been… scared, just as he’d said. It was the only word that made the most sense. I thought time would make it easier to move on. Heck, I’d moved on from Peter in roughly twenty-three seconds, the amount of time it took me to walk in on him with another girl, throw a crystal ashtray at him, and slam the door.

Chris, though? He wasn’t so easy to get over. I tried to cover it up, but others could see it. They spoke gently and patted me on the back or gave me unsolicited hugs. For three weeks straight, one of several sweet elderly women would stop by at the library and leave me a sugary treat—homemade cookies, cupcakes, a muffin.

Mrs. Katz informed me they’d all started a Break-up Dessert Train for me. “Because it’s a little easier to get through with something sweet.”

I didn’t argue.

One summer day, I traipsed over to the Sit-n-Eat to meet up with Ali. Ollie shuffled over to me a few minutes after I sat down. “Is the other one coming?”

I laughed. “Every time, Ollie. Yes, she’ll be here.”

A shadow of a smile flashed on his face. “Alright then. Two orders.”

“Thanks.”

This was the part of the conversation where Ollie always shuffled himself off to the kitchen and magically reappeared with food. But he didn’t move. Instead, he peered at me from under his bushy eyebrows.

“How you doing?” he asked.

I don’t know which of us was more surprised he’d asked me such a question.

Maybe because it was so very surprising, I found myself giving him an honest answer. “Lonely, sad, wondering if I made a terrible mistake.”

Ollie nodded like he understood. “I was in love once. Long time ago.”

Again, we stared at each other in disbelief.

He shrugged and continued. “It wasn’t an easy love. Some people think being in love has to feel good all the time. If you ain’t happy, then it can’t be real. I thought that too back then. But that is not how life works, is it? We can’t be happy all the time. If we were, we wouldn’t appreciate it when we are.”

This was the most I’d ever heard Ollie say in a week, maybe a month, maybe my entire life. “What happened?”

His eyes seemed to be looking somewhere else. “We split and she left. That was close to sixty years ago. Never, not one day, have I not thought of her and wondered what would have happened if I’d gone after her. Instead, I stayed around here and took over the restaurant.”

“I’m so sorry. That must have been awful.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “Do you get what I’m saying here?”

“I— No.” But maybe I did.

“Don’t let it get away from you too.” Then he shuffled off to his kitchen-cave without a glance back at me.

A few minutes later, Ali slid in next to me at the counter. “What’s that look on your face?”

I blinked. “I just had the strangest conversation with Ollie.”

Ali laughed. “A conversation? Like an actual back-and-forth with words?”

“Like I said, it was strange.”

“About what?”

“Nothing.” Ollie’s story was his own and not for me to share.

Ali cheered when Ollie brought the food around and wasted no time digging in. But all I could do was stare at my food and replay Ollie’s story.

“What’s up?” Ali nudged me with her shoulder. “You aren’t hungry?”