“I got through it.”
“That’s kind of the mantra these days. Just get through it, as that’s the only way to really make it.”
“I keep telling myself that.”
“No matter what, things are getting better. Businesses are reopening, people are getting their shots . . .”
“I got mine a few weeks ago.” My shoulders relaxed a bit as I found myself easing into this conversation. We were a few moments in, and he hadn’t asked me why I was working as a driver for FoodSwap. Maybe he wouldn’t. God, I hope he won’t . . . “I was able to get it earlier since my dad had health problems and I'm his main caregiver.”
“Is that what brought you back to town?”
“Yes.” Not totally a lie. “Yes, it is.”
“I’m glad you got it. I’m sure you are breathing a bit easier.” He laughed. “Pun intended, I guess. You can always count on me for a stupid joke.”
“Yes, I can.”
“Well,”—he looked down at the boxes— “you really should get going. People are waiting on their food.”
“We don’t want it to get cold.” I took a quick step forward, scooped up the meal, put it into the insulated bag, and moved backward again, relieved at the distance between us. Back when Seth was running the nightclub and I was the hired help, we’d engaged in plenty of flirty, mindless conversations that never went anywhere despite the promises they held. But this was different. We’d hardly said a thing, and yet there was an unspoken heaviness all around us.
Blame the pandemic.
“I should get out there,” I added. “Goodnight.”
I took the order, turned, and rushed out of the pizzeria, thankful it was already late and the night should slow down soon. FoodSwap also gave delivery drivers the chance to refuse pickup at any partner establishment, so I resolved to make sure I avoided Watch Hill Pizza in the future. Making money didn’t have to include embarrassment. I could keep my dignity and my pride.
“Kendra? Can you wait?”
I turned around in the parking lot, just five or ten feet away from the driver’s side door. Seth rushed to catch up to me.
“You left so quickly.”
“I need to get this food out.”
“I know, but—”
“What?”
“Let’s have dinner.”
I cocked my head. “Dinner?”
“Not tonight, of course. Tomorrow, maybe? We can . . .” Seth nodded in the direction of Sam’s Deli, another well-known Watch Hill restaurant and watering hole. “We can have dinner at Sam’s.”
“I don’t know.” I glanced back at my waiting car. “I just . . .”
“Please.” He moved closer to me and hunched his shoulders. Nightfall had made the temperature drop a few degrees, and even I regretted not having on a thicker jacket. “It’s just dinner between two friends. That’s all.” He cracked a smile. “Besides, when was the last time that you had some of Sam’s famous beer cheese?”
“A long time,” I admitted. “Before . . . before all this mess.” Before when I had a real job, when my dad was in better health, when I dazzled people with my NYC lifestyle. Although, in all honesty, it wasn’t something I would have had often back then either. I had always followed such a strict diet to keep both the weight down and the energy levels up. The life of a dancer. And I once used to complain about that . . .
“You deserve some. We both do.” His smile grew wider and his brightened, even under the dimness of the overhead parking light. “So, what do you say? You can meet me there.”
“Tomorrow,” I agreed, pushing away my reluctance. He was right, in some ways I did deserve a treat. I’d been depriving myself of extras in the name of meeting our basic needs, but I deserved some levity and escape from that too. A person could only push themselves for so long, and I’d been doing that since I came back to Ohio. “Sounds good.”
“Seven?”
“Seven.” I moved closer to the car. “Now I really do have to go. I don’t want this food to get any colder than it already has.”
“Absolutely. Don’t let me stop you.”
I said goodbye and jumped into the SUV, thankful for an excuse to leave and the reality that the delivery itself wasn’t too far away. I’d have the food there in a few minutes, and the payment in my account soon enough. Another completed task.
But as I drove away, all I could think of was Seth’s smile.
FIVESETH
I couldn’t believe it.
What were the chances of this—first hearing about Kendra from Ashley, and then actually seeing her the same evening? I supposed in a lot of ways it made sense given the circumstances, but I still marveled at it. It felt a little bit like something otherworldly willed my life to collide with hers, and I liked that. I’d never been someone who believed in coincidences—there was always a higher purpose to everything, even when it came to the bad luck that had surrounded me for more than a year.
It all pointed to something; I just didn’t know what.
Things slowed down at the pizza parlor soon after Kendra left, which made it easy for Tyler and me to close the place, once quitting time came. Every bone in my body screamed, and I was tired in a way I hadn’t been since the final days of The Frosted Heart, when I exhausted myself trying to come up with a way to save the business. Once I got home, I kicked off my shoes, changed into my pajamas, and went straight to bed, ready to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
But I didn’t.
Instead, my thoughts turned to Kendra, and the sadness I’d seen in her eyes when she picked up the order via FoodSwap. She was still the same lithe and toned woman I remembered, but her shoulders sloped and rounded in a way that told me she wasn’t as carefree as she had been in the days before the pandemic. Not that I expected that—the stress of the whole thing had made most people more cynical and
