“I’m Francine, and I’ll be your server tonight.”
As my pounding heart leaves my throat, the waitress reaches for a crayon. She writes her name upside down and backwards in the middle of the tablecloth along with a drawing of a sun. “Sorry for the wait. They sat you guys all at once.”
I give a closed-mouth smile as she grabs an overflowing bowl of chips and bright red salsa from the tray behind her and plops it on the table. This girl has impeccable timing.
Blowing a fringe of bangs from her forehead, Francine reaches into an apron adorned with impressive anime flair. “The school’s pre-approved menu is on the insert,” she says, hoisting an order pad. “If you want to pay separately, tonight’s special is chicken fajitas for two. What can I get y’all to drink?”
I go to answer, but Justin beats me to it. “I’ll have a Coke, and she’ll have a Sprite along with a glass of water with lemon.”
He glances at me, obviously proud at knowing one of my many odd little quirks, and lifts an eyebrow as if to say, “I remember everything about you.”
Swallowing hard, I force myself to look away, watching our waitress instead as she grins, taps a black-painted fingernail on the corner of her cute frames, and then skips off for the kitchen with seemingly no more pressing concerns than a bunch of high school kids stiffing her on tips. I stare at the bowl of salsa she left behind, wondering when was the last time I felt free.
I snag a chip from the bowl and scoop a large glob of the red stuff. “We should get back to the assignment.”
If Justin is disappointed I didn’t take his bait with the drinks, I can’t tell. He simply reaches over and slides the sheet across the table before reading, “A strong marriage depends on the ability to share with each other at the deepest levels. One of the foundational elements to a strong relationship is to let your partner know you appreciate them. Think of three positive characteristics that your partner embodies and tell them in a statement that says, ‘I appreciate…’”
He looks up. “Does this remind you of that time we played three questions?”
I snatch the paper from his hand.
“I’ll start,” I say, determined to focus on the here and now and take this assignment seriously. Even if it bloody kills me.
My fingers hesitate only for a moment before opening the spiral notebook. It requires Hulk-like strength to beat back the impulse to read the words Justin has tucked within the pages, but I do it, turning to a clean one near the middle.
“Justin, I appreciate what a leader you are on the team,” I say, staring at the page and not the confounding boy in front of me. It’s been three years since we were together, but some things I can’t escape. Listening to my dad praise his favorite catcher and watching the results myself from the bleachers are two of them. “The other guys listen to you, they respect how hard you play, and Dad relies on your work ethic to set an example.”
The bench seat groans as he shifts his weight. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“But it is.” I glance up to meet his eyes. For all of Justin’s bravado and confidence, he’s never been able to take a sincere compliment. And although he’s my ex and deserves to roast in the fiery pits of hell, or at the very least a really hot sauna, he’s not without his strengths.
When his eyes fill with what appears to be cautious optimism, I quickly look down again and continue. “I appreciate your sense of humor. Even in the most stressful of situations, you can always make people smile.”
“Carlos is the clown,” he mutters, drumming his knuckles on the table. If I weren’t so eager to complete this assignment, I’d sort of enjoy seeing him sweat.
“Carlos gets laughs by acting up and pulling stunts,” I say, for reasons unknown, needing him to believe I mean it. Clearly, I’m a glutton for punishment. “You make a self-effacing joke, say something unexpected, or even flirt, making people feel good. You distract them.”
When Justin doesn’t argue again, I write down the third and final trait. “I appreciate the way you listen. If someone has your attention, they have all of you.” I swallow hard as my eyes bore into the thin paper. “They’re the only thing on the planet that matters for those brief precious moments.”
Snapshot images flash in my mind. Us talking in his room, at the ranch… in the doghouse.
“You listen without always needing to give advice,” I tell him, “but you offer it when asked. You look them in the eye and you remember everything.”
Even when it’s annoying.
I finish writing and when I have nothing left to do, I lift my head. Soft brown eyes drill into me, almost pleading with an expression that wavers between disbelief and hope. The hope confuses me, and for his sake, I pray the disbelief fades once he gets away from his parents. Either way, I have to force myself to hold still under his scrutiny, not to flinch or look away.