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“Finn?”
I looked up and had to take a double take. There was a person at the window, and when I first looked, I just assumed my brain did what it had been doing for a week—replace someone else’s face with Wendy’s for a second. But then the voice hit me, and I realized that I was actually looking at Wendy on the other side of the ticket window.
“Wendy?”
“Can you come out here?” she asked, looking nervously to one side.
I came out of the kitchen like a heartbeat and saw Janet shooing her away from the ticket window and back out onto the dining floor. I stepped past Janet to join her, and we stood a few inches from each other for the first tie in over a week. I felt my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to take it all in.
She looked good. The bruises that had been light brown the last time I saw her were almost invisible. She had a barely detectable limp, and her wrist looked like it was moving normally, though it still had a brace on. On top of that, she just looked good. There was a glow about her, like she had been sleeping well or something. Maybe that was it. Maybe not dealing with me had made her feel a million times better.
“Hey, I’m getting off in a few minutes. Can we talk?” I asked.
I was surprised at myself. I had been avoiding saying those words for so long, had even created this distance because I refused to say them, and all of sudden I blurted them out. She nodded, smiling slightly, then looked around.
“I’ll just take a seat over here,” she said. “I’ve got time.”
“Are you hungry?” I asked, almost automatically. The smile on her face got wider, and she nodded.
“Fries would be great.”
I nodded and walked to the back, dropping back into the kitchen and throwing some of the fresh-cut fries into the fryer. Tony looked out at Wendy and then back to me, a knowing grin on his face. I ignored him, but it was no use. He was building a burger and looking at me expectantly.
“What?” I asked.
“What does she like on her burger?” he asked.
“What?”
“Her burger. What does she want on it?”
“She didn’t order one, Tony,” I said.
“Yeah, but you’re going to bring her one, right?” he asked.
I sighed.
“Yes.”
“So, what does she want?” he asked again, grinning like a schoolboy.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “You get the fries when they’re done, will you?”
“On it,” he said, moving over to the fryer.
I built a burger for her, remembering what she liked effortlessly. Behind me, Tony brought the fries out and salted them before plating a massive mound of them and handing them over to me to plate the burger. I found some real estate on the corner and shoved the burger on.
Helen was waiting for me at the door of the kitchen.
“I already clocked you out,” she said.
“Thanks, boss,” I said.
“Just do me a favor,” she said. “At some point this weekend, get some sleep?”
“I’ll do my best, boss,” I said, brushing by her, yanking off the apron, and tossing it into the office.
I nodded and went out to the floor. She took one look at the plate and smiled. I motioned toward the door.
“Do you want to take this with us?” I asked. “I’m off the clock now.”
“Sure,” she said. “I’ll drive.”
“Alright.”
I quickly transferred the burger and fries to a carryout container and put the plate in the dish bin before following her outside.
I had figured she would want to go take a walk or just sit outside and eat and talk. But her wanting to drive meant either we had a much longer talk to have or she wanted to bring me somewhere. I shrugged. Whatever was going to happen had to happen. I just needed to man up and get it over with.
We went out to her truck, and I hopped in the passenger’s seat. Wordlessly, we drove to her place, munching on the fries and her taking big bites of the burger.
Wendy pulled up to her house, all dark and silent. I was confused as to why she wanted to go there if she was going to have to drive me back to the diner but figured she wanted to be on home turf. If nothing else, I could always call for a ride. Gerry would probably come grab me if I needed someone.
I took the carryout container with the mostly eaten burger and about half the fries left and sat it on the dining room table when we got inside. I looked around as she turned on the lights.
“Olly is with Deana,” she said, passing me and going into the kitchen. She came back with a glass of water and a beer, pushing the beer toward me. I recognized it as one I’d left in the fridge when I walked out.
