Drunk Dial

Rubbing my thumb along his lip, I said, “You’d better go. You have a line.”

That afternoon, I watched as Landon whipped up sandwich after sandwich. It amazed me how he knew all of the ingredients off the top of his head without having to double check anything. There had to have been at least fifty different ingredients for the five featured sandwiches of the day. Landon had told me that he mainly used fresh, local produce direct from farmers whenever he could. He kept the truck impeccably organized and clean. To say I was impressed was an understatement.

My job was to fetch him whatever he needed. Everything was labeled in the refrigerator, which made it super easy. There was also an ice-cream freezer, so I’d get those items for anyone who ordered dessert.

The line of customers was non-stop for at least an hour. When it finally winded down, he slapped me playfully with a towel before pulling me into him for a deep kiss.

I spoke against his mouth. “I could really get used to this.”

“You were such a good little helper, beautiful. Is it all you hoped it would be…the Lunch Box?”

“I love this truck. I loved the idea of it before I even knew how awesome being in it really is. But God, it’s so much work, more than I ever imagined.”

“It is, but the time definitely goes by fast when you’re busy.”

“You’re amazing, Landon. You built this business for yourself from the ground up. The success is all yours. People flock here, not only because of the creativity you put into your food, but everything you use is super fresh. You’re fast, efficient, and seriously charming to your customers. If I didn’t already have a massive crush on you, I certainly would have one now. I mean, I would totally be your best customer. I think I would be fat, because I would be gorging on your sandwiches every freaking day.”

He let my words sink in as a passionate look filled his eyes. “Come here, you.” He brought me into him again and just held me as the warm ocean breeze blew into the truck.

This was heaven on Earth.

I was so overcome with happiness. It was really easy to envision a life here with him. I wanted to be his permanent helper, life partner—lover. But I knew it wasn’t going to be that simple. This trip wasn’t the start of a move to California; this was a vacation. And we hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface on getting to truly know each other.

Landon let go of me suddenly. “I nearly forgot. I had Mel pick up some stuff on her way in so I could make you something special.”

“What is it?”

He walked to the back of the truck. “Stay where you are. It’s a surprise. No peeking.”

I saw him reach for a banana before he opened the freezer and took something out. I was pretty sure he was scooping out ice cream then drizzling something over it. Then came the sound of squirting whipped cream.

Landon turned around carrying a massive sundae. “In honor of your little wardrobe malfunction the other day, I present to you…Rana Banana Split.”

Laughing, I took it. “Very clever.” I dug the spoon in and moaned as I tasted it. “Mmm.”

He bit his lip. “Don’t make that sound again, Saloomi. You’re killing me.”

Landon continued to watch me intently as I devoured the ice cream. I would lick the spoon slowly just to mess with him and could see my reflection in his hungry eyes, which were glistening.

I began to feed him some of his delectable creation. We alternated bites until everything was gone. And then he kissed away the remnants on my lips.

Quietly sharing the banana split was really representative of the kind of simple joy I’d been missing in my life back in Michigan.



Over the next few days, Landon took me everywhere. We drove through Death Valley, hiked Runyon Canyon, visited Mann’s Chinese Theater and the Hollywood Walk of Fame. He even took me to Disneyland and insisted I try In-N-Out Burger, too, since that was a California staple. I’d probably gained at least three pounds since arriving here between his cooking and the fast food we’d consumed.

We returned late each evening, and he’d kiss me goodnight then assume his position on the sofa in the living room while I took his bed. He was still doing an amazing job of avoiding any chance of sex happening.

My flight was booked for Sunday—in two days. So, we were really running low on time.

On Friday afternoon after a whirlwind day out, we were driving back to his apartment when he turned to me.

“Mind if we take a little detour?”

“Not at all.”

After a twenty-minute ride down the interstate, we pulled into the entrance of a cemetery. Suddenly, it became extremely clear why Landon had brought me here.

“I want you to meet my mother.”

Taking his hand, I smiled sympathetically. “Okay.”

We parked then walked through the rows of various-sized headstones, many of which were surrounded by dead flowers. As we made our way to his mother’s plot, I noticed a black hearse parked in the distance followed by a line of cars.

Finally, Landon stopped in front of a marble headstone that had the name Beverly Ann Downing carved into it.

“I’ve never taken anyone here before. You’re the first girl I’m bringing home to Mama.”

“I’ve actually never been to a graveyard.”

“You’re lucky, then.”

“How often did you say you come here?”

“I used to visit a lot more. The past year, life has gotten busier. I come about every couple of months on average.”

“I’m sure that wherever she is, Beverly understands that you’re busy. She’s always with you anyway.”

“You believe she can see everything we’re doing?” he asked.

I had to really think about that. “I do. Yeah.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that, then.”

“I just know she’d be proud of you.”

Landon seemed to cringe. “Maybe now.” He paused. “This is going to sound strange, but I fluctuate between wanting her approval and just pure anger that she doesn’t deserve the importance I place on her.”

“Are you still angry at her for giving you up?”

“There are times when I am. But I’ve made bad decisions in my life, too. We all have. And to a point I get why she made the choice she did. Personally, I just couldn’t imagine giving up my child. It’s really hard to accept how anyone could just hand their own flesh and blood over to strangers. I mean, I know she was really messed up. But I just wish she had tried harder to get clean or to find another way. It’s weird…I always felt this disconnect with my parents in Michigan. I know they love me, but I often wonder what a bond with Beverly would’ve been like if I’d gotten to know her and if she weren’t a junkie. Obviously, I’ll never know.”

It was killing me to see that he was still so hurt over his mother. To me, it was evident why she felt she had to give him up so that he could have a better life. But clearly, he was still in pain, and that made me really sad.