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But it was even harder to hear my dad quietly shut the front door and leave for work, knowing my father had never wanted an average daughter...and knowing perhaps I’d have to settle for the fact I’d let him down.
And everyone else in the process.
Chapter Four
My mind was all over the place at Tino’s, and the double shift coupled with my lack of sleep didn’t help. I tried to shove all the thoughts aside, but it just wasn’t my day. I messed up three orders by noon, dropped two glasses, and spilled a spaghetti dinner down my once-crisp-white shirt. Tears were threatening to fall, and Grace could see it.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked as the day just kept getting worse.
“Just everything. I feel like my life’s a mess, I guess,” I said. Grace knew all about the business, the ex-friend, and Brad. I didn’t need to say anymore. She wrapped her arms around me in a hug, not caring about the sauce on my shirt.
“You’re going to figure it out. You’re smart, you’re driven, and you’re going to sort through it. I know you will. Just listen to your heart, as cheesy as that sounds. I know, I know, I can be sentimental, even though I’m a horror writer.”
“Thank you. You’re right.” I went back out to wait on tables, feeling a newfound sense of confidence.
Until a group of college boys at table thirteen decided it would be funny to watch the already frazzled woman run back and forth for the seventeen different dishes they ordered and all the odd, special requests.
I told myself I was capable, though, not even rousing when they asked for spaghetti with grape jelly instead of spaghetti sauce—and ignoring Marcus, the chef, cursing at me when he asked why I would disgrace him with such an order.
And then, as I was carrying the huge tray of bizarre foods to the annoying teenagers who had nothing better to do than make my life more miserable, the final nail in the coffin happened.
I tripped. Right as Tino was shouting with the boys at the bar in some kind of drinking game. Right as an upbeat Italian song came on. Right when the last thing I needed was another setback. The cheering at the bar stopped as one of the bros pointed at me. A few giggles ensued. Tino said a curse word as I remained on the floor, too broken to get up, in truth. Drinks and food were splattered all over me, dripping from my hair. Shattered dishes and sloppy food stained the cheap carpet of Tino’s. Tears started to fall as I stayed on the floor, dazed.
“Dude, didn’t you work in a restaurant in the city?” Tino asked as he rushed over, no doubt frazzled that I’d cost the restaurant more money.
My cheeks flamed, but I was too far gone at this point. “It was a coffee shop!” I screamed as the festive music kept playing. I helped myself up from the ground—no one was going to pick me up off the floor. I would have to do it myself, so I did.
“You should...” Tino said, and I gave him a look. I knew if he told me to calm down, that would be the end of my waitressing career and hopes of financial stability for the time being.
He paused, and even the group of mischievous boys at table thirteen seemed terrified, perhaps because a woman covered in seventeen bizarre Italian dishes they’d ordered as a joke had a look of “Don’t mess with me” on her face.
Tino finished his sentence, but not in the way I think he planned. I plucked a strand of pasta off my shoulder and tossed it to the floor. “...go to the basement for me? We have a wedding tomorrow, and I need the silver serving trays that are down there. They’re in a box. It might take you a while to find them.” Tino’s usually brash voice and tone softened. “I’ll clean this up.” It was the closest thing to kindness Tino had ever exhibited.
I didn’t thank him, just gave a curt nod and rushed toward the basement door. The customers were returning to their conversations after the cacophony had died down. No one was looking at me.
“Hey, you,” Grace’s voice said. She was rushing at me like she was desperate to tell me something. Her eyes were alight. She paused for a second to give me a questioning look about my food-smeared shirt and hair.
