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She stirred her drink with her straw.
“Your mom must be happy to have you around.” I laughed a little.
“That’s an understatement. I have never seen a parent so thrilled that her daughter was dropping out of college.” I was an only child, so all the burden of succeeding was on my shoulders. Fortunately, my mother set the bar pretty damn low. Basically all I had to do was have a regular job and stay out of jail and she thought I was the greatest kid ever.
“And yours?” I asked. Molly had never really been close with her parents. They’d been so wrapped up in her brother, who was four years older and a super high achiever. Not that she wasn’t. She got good grades and did a lot of activities, but since she wasn’t a National Merit Scholar, she couldn’t compete with him.
“They’re fine,” she said, sipping her drink. Oh. There was definitely a story there. I’d seen her parents a few times over the years when they’d moved back. They’d never liked me, so we didn’t even exchange a hello, despite me having been under their roof almost as much as I’d been under my own.
“And Jason?” I said, asking about her brother.
She smiled, but her lips twitched just a tiny bit.
“He’s good. Married. Has two little boys. He lives in Minnesota now.” Oh, wow. I didn’t keep track of him, but I knew he’d moved away.
She pressed her lips together and I could tell that this was part of the catching up that she definitely wanted to get past. Okay, then.
“So, are you working a lot here or . . .” I trailed off. I was pretty terrible at this whole situation. Hopefully that meant we could end it sooner. I was starting to regret coming. And I needed another drink. I sucked down my first one and rattled the ice a little to see if the waitress would hear and bring me another one. She did. I’d have to take it slow on the second one because I was a bit of a lightweight.
“I’m trying. Things are a little up in the air right now,” she said. She hadn’t even finished half her drink yet. Always the more moderate of the two of us.
“Yeah?” I said.
She nodded. Our pizza finally arrived and we busied ourselves with chewing and trying not to burn our tongues on the melted cheese. This was going so well.
“Do you remember that sleepover when we ate one pizza each?” she asked as I worked on my second slice. I couldn’t hold back a smile.
“My mom was convinced we’d hidden it somewhere or threw it in the trash.” We could both put away our share of pizza, even when we’d been kids.
“And then we polished off the garlic bread in the middle of the night,” she said and I laughed. “So much garlic breath.”
That made me think of another night and I could feel my face getting red.
“Are you seeing anybody?” I blurted out. Why. Why was I like this?
“Not anymore,” she said, her face falling even more than it already head. She put down her slice of pizza and looked off into the distance.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I was really fucking this up.
“It’s okay. It happens. What about you?” Her eyes landed back on me and I felt myself blush again.
“Oh, um, no. Not for a while.” I’d dated here and there but couldn’t seem to keep a girlfriend. I’d get into something and then I’d find something wrong with her and then sabotage things. My last relationship had only lasted two months. I’d sort of given up on dating, to be honest. At least for right now. There were plenty of queer girls that came into the café, but since it was a small town, I’d either dated them, or dated girls who had dated them. New, shiny girls didn’t come around that often. Except now, but Molly wasn’t into girls.
“Here’s to being single and ready to mingle? Or however that goes,” she said, holding up her drink. I clinked my glass with hers and it finally seemed like we were going to be able to converse without it getting too awkward. She asked me about where I’d gone to college and that was a pretty safe topic, so we talked about that for a while until we finished most of the pizza.
“Guess I can’t put it away like I used to,” she said, looking forlornly at the last two small pieces that neither of us could cram in our mouths. I was pleasantly buzzed by this time, so I was feeling a little less on edge about the whole thing.
“Shame,” I said. The waitress came to ask us if we wanted dessert and we both declined. This night was going to end soon and I still didn’t have answers.
“Do you . . . do you want to get coffee or something?” I asked, and I sounded just like her the day before.
“Oh, okay?” She didn’t seem sure, but the waitress split the bill and then Molly ended up telling me that I should take the rest of the pizza, so I reluctantly did.
“I can drive,” I said, nodding to my car.
“Sure,” she said, getting in the passenger seat. I was glad I’d recently cleaned. Not that it would matter. She had to remember I was kind of a slob.
I ended up taking her back to the café. Sometimes I came in extra early to start on the bread and rolls and so forth, so it wasn’t unusual for me to be in the bakery at all hours.
