One More Sunset Pt. 05

Part 5

November 1^st, Savannah's Day:

Noon.

What was I doing wrong? Was it everything? Because it seemed like everything was going wrong.

"Hot plate ready to go, Savannah! Come on already!"

Keith was barking out at me again, and I knew why. It didn't take much to piss off the cook on a regular day. Fuck the idea of actually tiptoeing around it anymore.

"Don't tell me twice, Keith, I'm right here!" I grabbed the plate, barely noticing the heat of it scalding my forearm as I stacked it against two more plates. Longer sleeves offered some protection against the plates, but after three years of working here, I was beyond the title of "Professional Plate Balancer."

"I'm plating another one already, so be back here quick!"

Fuck the lunch rush.

"Coffee please! One cream five sugars!" "Can you make sure the food doesn't touch on the plate? I don't like it all touching each other before I eat it." "Refill on the Pepsi?" "How's the pie? You don't look like you've ever eaten a slice!" "Another cup of joe, miss!" "Sorry, he spilled a little on the floor. You know how kids are! What can you do?"

"Hot plate, Savannah!"

"Anything else I can get you all?"

"Another one in the window, Savannah!"

"How is everything tasting?"

"Hot plate coming out!"

One o' clock could not have rolled around fast enough, but truly, the horrors of war were really gone by one-thirty or nearly two. Slice of Life was understaffed, and I was beyond tired of trying to act like it wasn't. When I finally had one moment between some innocent customer and the passive-pettiness of Keith, I took off the apron and walked out the back door hoping to take a breather, but the cold November air took my breath away. I shivered, and my lips braced for the incoming chap of winter breezes, but it was worth a moment of peace.

I checked my phone, and Evan still hadn't texted me back after leaving in the morning. Obviously, he was in class, and I knew it wasn't anything, but after last night at the party, he had seemed different. Waking up this morning, he barely spoke to me.

Did I push him too far? I'm just telling him what I like! He can always say no to anything he wants... But does he say no?

Still nothing from him. I wanted to text him, and just tell him how my day was going. My lunch rush was over, and I always send him some shitty recap of my worst customer, but he had still left my last text on read:

I hope classes go well! I already miss you. I'll bring home dinner from the diner tonight.

Fuck it.

Today's lunch rush suckedddd. Life tip: don't be afraid to not be a dick to your waitress.

Keith opened the door and practically shouted, "Savannah get to work. We've got people waiting on you!"

"No matter how much you want it," I said, "You're still not my boss yet, or did you forget not getting the promotion?"

"Fuck you."

I flicked my chin at him and walked past him. Today was weird. I had assumed Keith was straight after all of the moves he had made on me since I started working here, but last night had utterly confused me. And for being a dickhead all day, I couldn't tell if it was just another day for Keith, or if it had something to do with last night. Did he know that I knew?

---

It was too cold to walk somewhere for a break, so I retreated into the office.

There wasn't much to this back office. A computer with ten years of updates needing to be installed; a mini fridge that struggled to stay cold enough to keep food safe; a CRT television on a shelf, which sat alongside memorabilia from the restaurant over the years. After the seventieth time I checked my phone, I went over to the binder. As if each day of the diner was as important as the last, at least one of every iteration of the menus was saved and given a page within the book. Photos of the team members at given holidays throughout the years. Photos from the turn of the century with the diner full of people. Who spends New Year's in a diner? Renovations during the work and after, alongside highly rated health inspections. Slice of Life had a better story than most people I knew, and after three years of working here, I knew every story that the walls had ever whispered.

His voice was the nails to my chalkboard ears, "Walker just showed up. I'm taking five." Keith moved to the fridge to grab a luke-warm soda and laid down on the bare ground as he let out an exhausted sigh. "Savannah, this job fuckin sucks some days, doesn't it."

I wasn't going to let him just have small talk with me after the hours of bullshit.

"Yep."

"Oh, come on. Don't be mad," Keith said. "Look, I'm sorry. Is that what you wanna hear? I was being a little bit of an ass this morning."

"It's almost three."

"Fine. Ugh, whatever. I was an ass all damn day.

I continued to flip through the scrapbook. "Good enough apology for now."

"Yeah, I'm just tired is all. I slept terribly last night, and then opening just ruined it completely. Good party last night, but next year, let's not go so hard so late."

"You did choose to stay and help clean."

"And I woke up on time to get here. You were a few late."

"Evan and I had a slow morning."

Keith didn't reply at first, but he started to respond before being cut off.

"What in the world are you two doing in here?" Mr. Wolfe hobbled through the doorway and set his coat on the desk, practically taking the computer out in the process. "Keith get off the floor and go cook a burger or something. Don't I pay you guys for something around here?" Mr. Wolfe's voice was old and wobbled as he spoke, and on certain words, he sounded like wooden boards creaking and croaking. "Oh yeah, I think I pay you to run my diner!"

Keith jumped up and moved past me without saying a word. He caught my glance, and I knew he was shut down for a while. I wouldn't get another word out of him about last night now that his dad was here.

"You," Mr. Wolfe said pointing at me as he grabbed an apron from a drawer and began to tie it around his waist, "on your break then?"

"Of course," I said.

"Sit for a minute," Mr. Wolfe walked behind me and shut the door to drown out the noise of the diner. There was no chance it was busy out there, but he always acted as if it were about to explode with a line out the door. "I'll pay you for the break today. I'm gonna talk your ears off for a minute."

I sat in the chair opposite his desk, and I brushed some lint off my bright blue jeans. Mr. Wolfe was hunching as he walked, and sitting in the chair almost knocked the air out of him. "What's on your mind, sir."

Mr. Wolfe laughed, "Sir!" He waved a hand at me, "I called my father, 'sir,' and he never called his father anything, because his old man would have grabbed a belt if he so much as looked at him funny." He eyed me for a moment, "Savannah, I'm gonna cut to the chase. You're about to have been here for some three and a half years. Now, that's longer than most of the staff put together, and you work more hours than some of the staff in just two days. You know the job, and I know you like it here. I see you pining over the keepsakes, and no matter how tough some days are, you don't let it get to you. Do you like this job?"

"I love it!"

"What do you want to do here?"

I was caught off guard by that question. "I want to continue working here, and learn how to run a place like this one day."

Mr. Wolfe paused, and I knew it wasn't to let me speak. Sometimes he just needed a minute to catch up to his mind.

"Why didn't you put in an application for senior manager?"

I had guessed this was coming. Great. Between my boyfriend ghosting me and Keith being an ass. Why today of all days do I get to have this conversation too? I sat up straighter in the chair. "Well, if I'm being honest, I didn't think I was qualified for it yet."

He waved a hand at me. "Qualified! Remind me, do you know how to turn the grill on?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Then you know more than Keith does some days."

I stifled my laughter.

"I'm not ashamed to admit it," Mr. Wolfe said. "My son isn't the best at this place, and his heart isn't in it like yours is. He knows it, and I accepted it a long time ago." Another pause, and he ran his hands through his thinning hair, "I thought he would have left already. Chasing some girl upstate or whatever. I keep walking in each day wondering if I'll find his Two-Weeks on my desk, but it hasn't happened yet."

I let him carry on his silence.

"I'm old and rambling. Congratulations. I'm promoting you."

"But I didn't want to be a senior manager."

"You're not going to be the senior manager." He paused again, but this time it was a brace for himself. I leaned forward as he continued, "We don't have enough people to run the diner, and we're about to lose another person in a couple of months."

"Another? Who? We can't run this place with only six people!" My mind started working in overdrive thinking of the doubles I'd be working just to keep the diner from exploding. The idea of being a manager on top of it gave me a throbbing headache.

Mr. Wolfe didn't answer at first, and I knew what he was getting at. "I'm old now, and it's taking me too long to run this place with my own damn feet not going cold on me some days." He looked me in the eyes and told me flatly. "Christmas night will be my last night here. I'm retiring, and I'm tired of waiting for people to step up and take what they want. Call me Santa I suppose. Come the 26^th, I'm turning over Slice of Life to you. Like I said, you aren't going to be a senior manager. I want you to be a co-owner with me."

The words shattered my sense, and I couldn't believe my ears.

"I want you to be a co-owner with me." Mr. Wolfe said, "I'll still be around to keep some ties to the place, but I'll be training you over the next few weeks to do everything I do. There's no manuals around here to instruct you the proper way, so that'll be part of the process too. What do you say? The pay is pretty nice, I suppose."

---

I have BIG news to tell you tonight! Get dressed up. Dinner is on me. Steakhouse or sushi, or whatever sounds fancy. Please text me back!

Delivered.

My shift was over, but I was in an Uber heading to the mall to go grab a new dress for dinner. I wanted to knock Evan's mother-fucking socks off with something incredible.

The place was crowded and smelled like people. I scrunched up my nose against the smell. I'm sure I reeked like French fries, gravy, black coffee, and a side of oil, but I don't think people dislike most of things, so I won the smell contest by default. I passed by awkward teenage couples with their faces freakishly close to one another, and shuffled past mall-walker hoards, or tried to sneak by mom and dads that couldn't control their sixth child.

I turned the corner and saw Victoria's Secret, and I giggled to myself thinking about how embarrassed Evan had been the last time we were there. Top 5 moments of my life. As I passed by, I shot a glance into the store, and just in a blur, I saw Kate rushing around inside. Some sale was happening inside the store, so as I moved through, lady after lady seemed to snarl at me if I might take something they were hoping to nab. The back of the store was more thinned out, and Kate saw me waving her down.

"Welcome back!" Kate came up and hugged me with the greeting. Were we that close? "The party was so fun! Thank you again for the invite. I barely woke up this morning. Tell your friend that made the Long Island Iced Teas to cool it on the Long Island half next time."

I chuckled, "Thanks for coming and bringing the party with you! It wouldn't have been fun without you."

"Oh whatever. We both know who stole the party. How is our diva after last night?"

"I'm sure you got a better conversation out of him in your lecture today than I did this morning."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

Were we this close? I wondered again, and Kate seemed nice, but I barely knew her. She had known Evan for years after all, so why not share? "He was pretty quiet today. Breakfast was without words, and he hasn't texted me all day. Maybe his phone died or something? Did he seem off at lecture?"

Kate pursed her lips before saying, "He actually wasn't at lecture today. That's why I asked how he was. I assumed he was too hungover for class or something."

"I think we're all a little hungover, but he still got ready and left with me this morning."

I could tell Kate was worried, so I just dismissed it to ease her mind, "Oh, its probably nothing! Maybe he went back to his place and lost track of time."

Kate nodded, unconvinced by my guess, "Savannah, I've known Evan for a few years, and I can tell you how many times he has ever missed a lecture." She made a 'zero' with her hand, and her face looked even more worried.

Just as Kate put her hand down, my phone buzzed. I pulled out the phone and checked the notification.

"It's him! Oh, thank God he isn't dead in a dumpster or something."

Kate laughed. "Good timing on his part."

"No joke."

Sorry for the ghost today. I was pretty busy at school and stuff. Morgan's lecture ran late too. Wanna meet at Avanti's on 8 ^th? I won't be done here until about 6.

I showed Kate the text, and her eyes flooded with concern.

I didn't know what to say, and neither did Kate. It took a customer calling her away for me to finally break out of my frozen state. Why had Evan just lied to me? What was he hiding? What did I do wrong?

---

The table was reserved for six, but I got there fifteen minutes early. Nervous? Me? Never! Instead, I was practically throwing up from apprehension. I had ordered a glass of wine as I awaited Evan's arrival, and it was starting to calm my nerves, but with each minute that passed by, I grew even more nauseated.

Ten minutes out: Had I pushed Evan too much? Was this something that wasn't worth keeping around in our relationship? I mean, I liked it, and I had assumed he liked the crossdressing, but I suppose that was too much. It was too much too fast. How else could it be perceived? Why had he lied to me today? Was he with someone else? Was he planning a surprise? Maybe it was a good thing. Sure! It had to be a good thing, except that I knew it wasn't.

Five minutes out: The line in the sand was drawn. It wasn't fun anymore, and honestly, the crossdressing was weird. Of course, it was strange! Evan wasn't a fan of it, now I wasn't either. Instead, we could just go back to lounging together on the couch, and maybe we could finally go back to finishing his list of favorite movies. Maybe go to one more football game before the season was over. Was it over? Who cared! As long as I fell asleep against him each night.

One minute out: I remembered why I had even planned to invite him out, and I laughed imagining telling him about such big news when he was clearly hiding something from me. I couldn't breathe, so I drowned in the wine. No more thinking. Just wait. Just breathe and wait.

I panicked and pulled out my phone.

Going to the bathroom. All the way in the back to the right. My jacket is on the chair.

The bathroom sink wasn't enough to brace me, and my anxiety was in overdrive. I had overanalyzed every conversation from the last two months in the last two hours, and every word we had spoken seemed different and strangled in my memory now. I closed my eyes and counted aloud. Maybe that would help. Maybe it wouldn't? I wish I had a drink in my hand. Anything to keep my mind from racing toward a self-destructive finish line. I had been in here a couple of minutes, and it was time to face the music, and figure out what I had done to push him toward lying to me. We were better than that? Right? I looked at the body staring back at me, and I could her laughing back at me. That snarky bitch that always told me to double check my second guesses. "Fuck off," I told her and left her alone in the bathroom.

The back of his head was what I saw first, and I was immediately calmed. I walked up to him and leaned over his shoulder for a hug and kissed him on the cheek. His musk danced its way into my nose, and I was drunk again. Calmed for a moment. Why were moments so short when they lasted for ages? I moved to the chair and sat down.

Disheveled wasn't enough to describe the husk I peered upon. From sunken shoulders to a white and drained face, nor did his eyes have the color they should, for they were red, and I could tell he had been crying.

"Evan? What's wrong?"

I reached across the table and took his hands in mine.

"Evan, honey? I love you; you can tell me anything."

In the depths of my heart, I wanted to look at this face for the rest of my life, and to see him so broken now devastated me.

---

November 1^st, Evan's Day:

Noon.

"I guess I'll let you take the lead on how to start this."

She sat across from me in her formal business clothes. Everything about her echoed the idea of "professional," while my sweatpants had a stain on them from spilling some of my lunch on them.

"Well, we will work for two hours, with a five-minute mandatory break. Bathroom, snacks, whatever kind of break you need it to be. Sometimes with therapy, you can find yourself in circular conversations, because it finally feels good to talk about something, but its more beneficial to reevaluate in intervals. So, lets start with a more informal introduction. I'm Dr. Moira Brown." She paused for a moment before adding, "I love the nails by the way."

"Thanks, they'll be here for a while. I'm Evan And thanks for fitting me in so beyond-last notice."

"It just so happened to work out today, but if you are wanting future sessions, I suggest we end today by creating a slot for perhaps just once a month to begin with. While our university does provide these sessions, they fill up much more quickly in the winter. They call it 'seasonal depression,' and it leads to a multitude of students requesting counseling."

Dr. Brown wrote down a few notes on her clipboard, and then she placed it to the side away from her. I wondered if that was to make me feel less like a subject. She continued speaking, "So on the phone you said that this was in reference to a relationship you are currently in. Why don't you go ahead and walk me through the broad strokes of this relationship, as openly as you'd prefer. What kind of partner do you have? How long have you been together? What are some of the issues you're facing?"

I chewed on my lip for a while, unsure of how to begin. "Well, I guess it started about two months ago--"

And so it began, the great monologue of my lifetime. As PG as possible, I recounted to the room, as for most of it, I couldn't make eye-contact. But it wasn't out of embarrassment; no, I was more enthralled by my own story, and having finally told someone else about the last two months of my life, it felt as if I floated above my chair, and at times my words wavered, because I felt ecstatic to simply share the story with something that wasn't my own flesh. I spoke of the crossdressing, and I recounted the Halloween party until the end of the night. Maybe ten minutes later, I realized I was parched, and I reached forward to pour some water from the table in between us. The table had a peculiar shape that I couldn't place, and it started to bother me that it gave me déjà vu.

Dr. Brown sat in silence for a moment. Her eyes furrowed, and her face remained still as she broke down my story. I couldn't imagine what kind of questions she would make me answer.

"Do you love her?"

I was caught off guard. "Yes, of course!"

"I hear it in your words how much you care for her. Even the first time this hobby took place, you seemed to place most of your choices upon her vulnerability."