“You know,” he said, flipping a bottle top around in his hand, “your parents just got home to Miami.”
“I didn’t even know they were gone,” I said, taking a big sip.
He nodded. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us. I went over there to speak to your father about a business he talked me into investing in that’s going bust. Both of them had skipped off to Greece.”
“For how long?” I asked.
“At least a month. They’ve been gone for longer and longer periods of time recently. Sometimes one of them will come back before the other, but no one ever knows when either will be home, it seems. Not even the help.”
“Well, that’s not really new, is it?” I asked. “They’ve been doing that since I was little.”
“I remember,” he said. “But you know, as much as I wish your father could have been a better one for you and your mother had an ounce of maternal instinct in her, I am glad I got to spend as much time with you as I have.”
“Me too, Uncle Harry,” I said.
“You know you don’t have to call me that anymore. You’re a grown-ass man. You can call me Harry. Or Harrison. Or whatever you feel like.”
“I know,” I said. “I like Uncle Harry.”
“Fair enough,” he said, taking a big swig. “Fair enough.”
“I’m used to my parents not really caring about anyone, much less me,” I said. “But thank you for the update.”
“Anytime, kid.” We clinked glass bottles. “Or never if you want.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m honestly not sure.”
“Just let me know when you are.”
24
HELEN
It had been a couple of days since I had heard from Everett, and I was trying to not let it get to me. After all, I was the one who skipped out on him to go to Chicago without so much as giving him my number. Considering that, I figured I owed him a day or two with his uncle without bugging him. I’d hear from him when he could.
In the meantime, I spent my time focusing on working at the diner, spiffing it up a bit, and really fine-tuning the menu. I gathered a handful of the regulars and had them come in for a comped meal to test out some of the new items, which was a lot of fun.
Two of them were old men who routinely got breakfast and coffee. A family joined in that often came in for lunch and had the most precocious five-year-old. Then two businessmen who worked out of town but often came in for dinner took part.
It didn’t take long to figure out the soup was not going to make it. No one seemed interested in a soup, and at best, I figured it might sell during the winter. But as a regular new item on the menu, it was likely a bust. The falafel was a surprise hit, as was the tzatziki sauce. Tony’s single-serving of Nona’s Lasagna was a huge hit, though they all seemed to like that it was only available on Sunday’s.
Overall, it was extremely successful and gave me a lot to think about going forward.
As I took my break, I felt my phone vibrating and I thought it must be Mom. Dad had been doing really well lately and had been driving her up the wall by being so active. He wanted to go do everything, and she was worn out. I half expected the call to be from her, begging me to take my father out bowling or something.
Instead, I was pleasantly surprised to see Everett’s name on the screen. It had been two days, but it felt like a lifetime, and I had been doing my best not to be angry. We both had issues with communication we needed to work through if this was going to go anywhere.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hey, gorgeous,” his silky, low voice purred on the other end. My knees lost the ability to carry weight, and I sat down heavily in a creaky chair. For a second, I thought it might just disintegrate underneath me.
“Hello, Everett,” I said, trying desperately not to let myself sound like how I felt.
“I wanted to say I was sorry for not getting in touch with you the last couple of days,” he said. “Things were rather busy with Uncle Harry here and all. But he took back off to Miami this morning, and I was wondering if you would be interested in coming over, maybe having some dinner?”
“Sure,” I said, fighting my own voice. I cleared my throat and shook my head, trying to gain some measure of control. What the hell was wrong with me? “Tonight?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay. What time do you get off?” he asked.
“Six,” I said. “Maybe a little later, but no later than six thirty. I can call you if it will be after six, though.”