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When I reached the staff room, there was a steak sandwich left on a plate next to the sink. “I think they saved the last one for you,” said Colton, walking in behind me.
I smiled. “That was thoughtful.”
“Or just hoping that you’ll do it again tomorrow. I heard it was incredible.”
I took a bite and chewed slowly. “Not bad. But it’s missing something. Maybe some fried onions. I’ll ask Mario what he thinks the next time I see him.”
“Who?” he asked.
“A guy I met last night. His restaurant is a few blocks from here. Mario’s Restaurant. Have you heard of it?”
“Nope. But I will check it out now.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Do you want to be a chef, Luke? Is that what this is all about?”
I had thought about it many times, but I didn’t think that I would enjoy cooking if I had to do it every day. I think I would lose my love for cooking if it became my career. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Then, what’s holding you back?”
“I don’t know, Colton. I guess… I just don’t know which way I want to go.”
“You need to figure this shit out, Luke. We’re not kids anymore.”
“I know that,” I said, frustrated with myself. I couldn’t help feeling lost every time I thought of the future. If I were honest, it’s why I avoided thinking about it most of the time.
“Here’s the number to the safe where I store my laptop,” he said, passing me a yellow sticky note.
“Drive safe,” he said and pat me on the shoulder before walking back to his office.
I looked around the room and started cleaning up the mess. It didn’t take too long, most of the stuff I used I placed in the dishwasher. I grabbed my sports jacket and headed downstairs; certain Meany Sweeney would be waiting there for me.
Ah, and there she was, sitting in a silver Honda Civic. Reminded me of Colton’s first car.
“I like the ride, Sweeney,” I said, getting into the vehicle.
“Thanks.” Adjusting an ancient GPS device onto her vent, she asked, “What’s the address to this cabin?”
“I’ll just give you the directions.”
“No, I prefer the address.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d rather listen to the GPS’s voice telling me where to go than yours.”
“Oh, Sweeney. There’s nothing I’d like more than to tell you where to go.”
She narrowed her eyes. “The address, Crawford.”
“I don’t know the exact address.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I know how to get there, which roads to take, but I don’t actually know the cabin number or anything like that. Trust me. I won’t get us lost.”
“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”
“Because you are a generally negative person?”
She sighed and shoved her key in the ignition to start the car.
