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“Nah. It’s nice out, I thought I’d bring Gracie. Plus, Reed takes up too much of your attention.” I don’t let my mind dig too deep into that one; instead, I stand and place my hands on my hips.
“What can I get you?” I ask, not even bothering to grab my pad. What’s the point in pretending anymore?
He doesn’t answer, simply asking a question of his own. “Is it busy in there?” he asks, tilting his head toward the diner but not looking away from me. I’ve realized that when I’m near, he never shifts his eyes from mine, almost like he’s afraid if he does, I’ll disappear. Something about it doesn’t sit right with me, and guilt ravages me with the realization.
“No,” I say with a shake of my head, both to answer his question and to shake away the emotions I don’t want to be feeling. He pauses a beat like he’s trying to steady his nerves, and nods.
“Sit with me,” he says, his eyes soft and with just a hint of pleading.
“What?”
“Sit with me. Just...” There’s nervous hesitation that I absolutely hate on him, onRiggs,the most confident man I ever knew. He doesn’tgetnervous asking a simple question. “Just sit with me. For a few minutes.” He pauses, but I don’t speak, continuing to stare at me for a few moments before biting his lip, the way he used to when we were kids when he was suddenly nervous or ashamed of something, like when someone would bring up his father after his mom passed or rib him for not having the coolest, hippest shoes. “Unless you can’t, then that’s cool. I get it if you have to do work.”
My mind rakes over the things I have to do this afternoon, anything I haven’t done yet, and realize all of my normal tasks are done, except for things I really can’t do until the diner is closed. Thursdays tend to be pretty slow, and now that Riggins has been coming in, I try and keep my hands and mind busy while I wait to see if he’ll actually show.
I find I’m not raking my mind for excuses, either, but for permission to do what I want.
When was the last time you did something for you, Stell?
The words my sister spoke ring in my mind. For the first time, I ask myself them. Whenwasthe last time I did something for me? For me alone, not for my mom or for work or for Evie or even years ago, for Riggs? When was the last time I did whatIwanted without worrying about what others would say, how it would be interpreted, how people would react?
I’m not sure.
And with those words vibrating through me, I do something Riggs clearly doesn’t expect.
I pull out a chair across from him, sit down, and tug my phone out of my pocket, sending Amelia a text telling her I’m taking a short break and to let me know if she needs me inside. She replies almost instantly with a chaotic line of letters and exclamation points that make me smile, followed by atake as long as you need!before I slip my phone into my pocket.
“Deal. How’s it feel being home?” I ask, leaning back in the chair, my hand dipping down to brush the hair of Gracie, who has moved to be close to me.
Riggins’ smile goes wide, and he begins to answer, telling me about how he’s been finally clearing out his parents’ house, visiting all his old spots, and hanging out with the guys.
I fill him in on what I’ve been up to, skirting around some of the subjects I’m not comfortable enough to mention yet, like my mental health and the songwriting I’ve been doing, before we start to move onto random topics. I marvel at how easy it feels, even after all these years.
Our conversations fall into a comfortable lull in ten minutes or so, Riggins halfway through his pancakes Amelia brought out as I pet Gracie’s head that she’s rested in my lap absentmindedly.
“I missed this most of all,” he says, a soft look in his eyes.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“This. You and me, laughing about things, just talking. Being us. I miss my best friend, Stell.” I can’t help it; the words are spilling out without my mind's approval.
“Me too, Riggs,” I say with a small smile. I have to fight not to be a sad one.
He stares at me for a moment, categorizing and dissecting the look, I’m sure before we move back to talking about little things, things with no real meaning or impact.
And for a short, blissful moment, I wonder if we could have this again, at the very least. This friendship and camaraderie I’ve missed.
I wonder if I could have my best friend back.
“I should go soon,” he says eventually, breaking into my thoughts. “ I have an AA meeting at four, and I have to bring Gracie back before I drive over to Stafford.” It surprises me, both the mention of him going to Alcoholics Anonymous and how casually he says it.
“AA?” I ask stupidly. “I mean, I know what it is, I just didn’t think…” My voice trails off, and I’m sure my cheeks burn with embarrassment, but his smile widens.
“Yeah. Been going for a while. Five years sober.” He doesn’t explain more, but I can do the math. Five years ago, at his father's funeral, where I came and held his hand, was the last time I saw him.
“Well, don’t let me keep you,” I say, leaning over to press a kiss on Gracie’s soft head before standing.
“You’re not keeping me at all, Stell. I’d do absolutely anything in this world to spend more time with you like this, just hanging out. It feels… it feels normal. It feels like how it used to be, the way it was always supposed to be.”
