Page 9 of Last Letters to Ara
Be that as it may, there is only thing I would hate more than learning to love something without Dad, and that is to let him down. His only request is that I complete his tasks every month. Dad never once let me down, so I won’t let him down either.
The thought alone forces me to my feet.
• • •
The familiar bell jingles as I let myself inside where I’m greeted by the heavenly smell of coffee, bacon, and pancakes, three of my favorite things. Food being my love language, the prospect of stuffing my face with food for the soulslightlylifts my spirits.
Emphasis on slightly.
We started coming here when I was little, and it wasn’t long before it became our favorite spot. The Diner is one of those old, retro-looking places that you hope never changes for as long as you live. It’s got the black-and-white-checked floors with red-leather booths and swivel barstools. The walls are filled with black-and-white photos, giving you the feeling that you’ve traveled through time.
My stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud gurgle, and thankfully no one is at the counter to think I’m harboring an alien creature under my shirt. The “Please Wait To Be Seated” doesn’t apply once I see that my usual booth is open. Even though I don’t need to look at the menu, I grab one as I go by so I can look busy.
Susan notices me as she walks by with about fifteen plates in her hand. I will never understand how she manages to do that without wearing the food. I give her the best smile I can manage, which is pathetic, after she mouths “Be right there.”
The Diner was opened by her grandfather and was passed down to her before he passed away from old age. Susan once told us that she had grown up in these booths and couldn’t stand the idea of it being sold off to a developer with no heart. As a kid, I thought she might have a crush on my dad, but over the years I learned that she is married and treats all of her regulars with such care.
“I can’t help but notice that you have no regard for the rules of society.” The newly familiar voice sends every nerve in my body on high alert.
This can’t be happening. I knew who it was as the first word left his mouth, but I confirm the knowledge with a look to the booth across from me, finding the guy I met at the airport sitting only a matter of feet away. Theo ishere.
“Huh?” I don’t let myself dwell on why I recognized his voice or why I bothered to remember his name. I don’t even consider the unlikelihood of running into the same stranger two days in a row because I’m too busy imagining how to wipe that smug look right off his face.
“You walked right past that ‘Please Wait To Be Seated’ sign without even looking over your shoulder.” His smug look slowly transforms into a grin. “What a menace.”
He’s...teasingme.
“Are you stalking me?”
He laughs a little and shakes his head. “How could I stalk someone if I don’t know their name?”
“Sounds like a question you should ask a serial killer.” I’m not giving this guy anything on me.
He laughs again. “Know how I could find one?”
Susan chooses that exact, wonderfully helpful moment to approach my table and greet me by name. “Good morning, Ara! Just you today?”
Shit.I look around Susan to see Theo sporting a triumphant grin. It’s...infuriating. Now he knows my name.
“Officially stalking!” I mouth at him before turning back to Susan to let her know I’ll have the usual.
Before I can get the words out, it hits me that I didn’t react when Susan asked if I would be by myself. The delayed realization clangs through me, almost as if it’s the first time I’m getting the magnitude of it.
Just me today.By myself. Sitting alone. Eating alone. The way I’ll do everything from now on, accompanied only by my shadow and an empty seat serving as a reminder of what was taken from me.
“Everything okay?” Susan asks with a concerned look.
“I’m fine.” I go for a happy face and end up landing somewhere near ‘circus exhibit’ instead. “Just me today and I’ll have my usual.”
Susan hesitates like she wants to stay and make sure I’m okay, but thinks better of it and heads back toward the kitchen.
“I like your name. Is it short for something?” Theo’s voice is less teasing now, taking on a more somber tone as if he perceived the shift in my demeanor. At least he’s observant.
“Yeah, it’s short for Sarah.” I hear the slide of jeans on leather and look up to see Theo sitting in front of me.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Do I have a choice?” I look down, noticing he’s holding a mug of black coffee. I can’t help but crinkle my nose. Who drinks black coffee unless they want to torture themself?
