Page 21 of Wild Mistake
“Whoa. I didn’t—” He holds his hands up in surrender. “Honestly, Sarah. It’s not like that.”
“So, what? You just thought you could leave a nice fat tip and all would be forgiven?”
“No, I . . .” He shakes his head, before letting out a long exhale. “Okay, so I thought it might help.”
“Well, it didn’t. It made me feel used and cheap. I get that waiting tables isn’t glamorous or ambitious, but it’s a respectable job and I can take care of my family without your pity.”
“I’m sorry. I never meant to offend you or make you feel bad. I don’t look down on you for this job. I never have and I wouldn’t start. You’re a hard worker, Sarah. That’s something I value most. I have nothing but admiration for you.”
“Oh.” I feel a little bad for going off on him. I uncross my arms and reach for the notepad in my apron. “Thank you.”
“Can I make it up to you by ordering the special and tipping you an appropriate amount?” The hint of his hopeful grin unarms my irritation.
I level him with a stern glare. “Nothing over twenty percent.”
“I swear on my life.”
“Fine.” I meet his gaze. “The special, huh?”
“You know it.” He grins and it reminds me of the way he used to smile at me when we were teens. Despite the fact I was fuming moments ago, I can’t help but smile back before turning and heading into the kitchen. Nostalgia is a funny thing.
“One special,” I call to Benny through the small cut-out window that connects the kitchen and dining room.
“Coming up!” he shouts back.
I check in with my other tables, clearing plates, refilling drinks, and cashing out customers. When Benny slides a special under the warmer and dings the bell, I grab the plate and head back to Aiden’s table.
“Anything else I can get you?” I ask, setting down his food.
Aiden unrolls the silverware from his paper napkin and ignores my question, asking me one instead. “So, other than offend you with my tip from yesterday, how are you today?”
“I’m okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Parker and Gabe are with their dad this week. I’ve never been without them for this long.”
“How old are they now?” He takes his fork and knife and begins cutting up his food.
“Seventeen and fifteen.” I place a hand on my hip. “And I know what you’re thinking. I better get used to not seeing them all the time. It won’t be long before they leave me for good. Yada yada.”
“That’s not what I was thinking.” He shakes his head. “You’re a good mom, Sarah. This week must be hard.” His words take a big chunk out of the armor I use to keep my feelings hidden.
“It’s really fucking hard.” I have been keeping it together. Every time one of my customers asks how I’m doing without the boys—and in this town it’s basically everyone—I’ve put on a brave face and lied. But with Aiden, I don’t want to. “I hate this part of divorce the most.”
He nods. “What time do you get off tonight?”
“Six.”
“We’re going out,” he says before shoveling a bite into his mouth.
My eyes widen and I scoff. “Excuse me?”
He leans back into the booth, chewing and swallowing before he answers. “You need some cheering up and I have just the thing.”
“Aiden.” I don’t have an excuse not to go, but still . . . this isn’t a good idea.
“Nope.” He points in my direction with his utensil. “Don’t give me those eyes. You’ll have fun. I promise.”
