“You know what?” Mr. Martin said. He sidestepped around the hovering waitress and put his palm on the small of Deandra’s back. In one smooth move, he replaced Shepherd at the mother’s side, giving him a hard look. “I, too, could go for a salad. Two salads, my good man.”
Shepherd backed off. He held out an arm and waved atthe nearest empty table. “Two salads, coming right up. Ginny?”
She squeaked, gazing up at him with eyes as wide as saucers. “Yep,” she said. “Yep. Yep. Yep.”
Shepherd nodded. “Yep. Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll get those salads ordered.”
Ginny followed behind Deandra and Mr. Martin like a baby penguin waddling after its parents in a snowstorm, dazed and confused but still absolutely adorable.
Shepherd rubbed his fingers in a clockwise motion against his temples, his brain expanding and contracting inside his skull despite his best efforts, and took a deep breath.
Everything was going to be fine.
Everyone was safe.
Everyone was healthy.
This was just dumb sitcom-esque shenanigans that he was only agreeing to because Ginny was a great waitress and he desperately needed his car cleaned.
“Dude,” said Noah, “what’s with this text you sent me?”
Shepherd checked his phone, curious to see what gibberish he’d managed to type while trying and failing to separate the older couple.
Shepherd:Sgsgdhdhdhdddddhhhhhhhhh
Which, hey, was pretty good, considering that was all typed behind his back.
“Ginny and I are gonna tell her mom that we’re dating.”
“Aw, damn it.” Noah slapped the bar. “Really? Since when? Man. That sucks! I was on the board for this weekend. Seriously? You couldn’t have held out for three more days? I had a lot of money riding on this thing!”
“No, no, no.” Shepherd grabbed Noah by the shoulders and pushed him closer to the kitchen. The last thing he needed was for Deandra to hear this. “We aren’t dating,” he hissed, his voice low. “We’re telling her mom that we’re dating so she won’t badger Ginny into moving back to Miami. It’s a stupidly long, complicated story, and I don’t have time to tell you it right now because I have to go order two salads for Ms. Kent and Mr. Martin. Actually, you go order the salads.”
“Salads?” Noah asked. “We have salads here?”
Shepherd closed his eyes to keep himself from yelling. “Please, Noah. For the love of all that is holy. Order the salads in the restaurant that you have worked at for almost three years now.”
“Hey, don’t get mad. I don’teathere. I just tend the bar.”
“Do it now, Noah.” Shepherd patted the man’s shoulders. “Do it now, please. And when you deliver the food, remember: Ginny and I are a couple in love.”
“Well, duh,” Noah said. “How is that different from any other day?”
Shepherd smacked his lips together. “I hate you so much.”
“I am literally your only friend.”
“Now, Noah.”
“All right, all right! Sheesh.Someone’s having a lovers’ quarrel. Don’t take it out on me.”
Shepherd slid into the empty seat next to Ginny. Mr. Martin whispered something in Deandra’s ear, his arm slipping over the back of the woman’s chair. Whatever he said made her giggle, her lips parting into a Cheshire cat grin over her perfect white veneers.
Ginny flashed Shepherd a look of repulsion and terror. He returned it. This was weird, but also probably for the best. If Deandra was busy being wooed, then he didn’t have to pretend to be Ginny’s boyfriend. How could he act like he was in love with someone when he was definitely not in love with that person, or anyone, ever?
That’s what his ex-wife had told him right after admitting that her second pregnancy was not because of him. That he was “incapable of love, of sharing feelings, of being vulnerable.”
Of course, he felt like a walking, talking scab at all times, so being told he was never vulnerable came as a shock to him. Not as big of a shock as who was the father of his daughter’s half-sibling, but a shock nonetheless.
