Life In Reverse(30)

“Yes, I see. It’s a tree.”

I elbow him playfully. “Yes. I know it’s a tree. But look higher up, almost at the top.”

He chuckles. “Those are called branches, Mickey.”

I glare at him, still using my arm as a pointer. “There are four blue jays up there. And I love birds so I’m taking a picture.”

“Mmkay.”

While clicking several pictures from a few different angles, I catch Vance staring at me. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything. Come on.” He teases. “Let’s go eat before your stomach embarrasses us.” Then I pause again, cognizant of the fact that it’s been a while since I’ve stopped to notice my surroundings. “What now?” he asks, and I brush it off with a shake of my head.

The hostess leads us to the last available booth then drops menus on the table. Being faced with six pages of options, it takes me time to decide. I eye Vance over the page. He’s not looking at the choices but fixated on something beyond the window.

“You already know what you want?”

His focus remains elsewhere. “Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

His cloudy blue gaze finally makes contact with mine. “Can I ask you something?”

I put down my menu. “Sure. Anything.”

“How did you do that back there?” My face must show my confusion because he immediately clarifies. “With my mother?”

“Oh.” I’m about to reply further when the waitress, an older woman with a grey bun and deep red lipstick steps up to the table. She pulls the pencil from behind her ear as she chomps on a piece of gum. “What can I get you two?”

“I’ll have a turkey burger with mushrooms and onions, and a side order of curly fries, please.”

“Anything to drink sweet young thing?”

I look back at the menu, smiling at the description and her subtle accent. “Just a water with lemon, thanks.”

She gestures to Vance with her pencil. “What about you, hon?”

“I’ll have a large order of pancakes with extra butter, a side order of bacon and sausage, and one of those glazed doughnuts in the glass case… and a Coke. Please.”

“You got it.” The waitress picks up the menus, her glance darting between us. “You two are awfully cute together,” she comments as she walks off toward the kitchen.

“We’re not together,” I yell out, and from the way Vance’s face twists I think I might have offended him. “No offense,” I quickly add. “I just don’t like people making incorrect assumptions about me.”

He grimaces, heaving his arms over his chest. “You mean much like you did with me?”

“Right.” I bow my head, both in apology and to hide my red cheeks. “I’m sorry about that.”

“I’m just razzing you. Take it easy there, Mickey.”

“Oh.” I lift up and he shoots me a half-smile. The waitress shows up with our drinks and I wait until she walks away. “So you were asking about your mom?”

“Yeah.” His expression shifts, now stamped with severity and he leans against the booth.

I do the opposite and edge forward, placing my elbows on the table. “I don’t know. I reacted, I guess. I saw her struggling with the memory and wanted to take away her pain in that moment. I wanted to make it happy for her.”

Vance nods. Of course he understands. “I just… I haven’t been able to make her smile like that in so long.” His chin lowers. “Sometimes… a lot of times, I don’t know what to say or do. It’s… I never know what the right thing is… and I used to know. Before she got sick. I always knew.”

Something inside of me demands I reach out for him—his hand, his finger, anything. But I know he doesn’t want that so I keep my body parts to myself. I won’t deny it’s a struggle for me, though. I’m an artist and a sculptor. Touch is as natural to me as breathing.

“I understand. But Vance, she’s not my mother.” I lock my fingers together and squeeze, trying to ease my frustration. “I’m not as close to the situation as you are. It’s easier when you’re on the outside. I’m not sure I could do it if it was my own mother. I’m not sure I’m strong enough.”

“I guess.” He pinches a sugar packet, flicking it with his finger while disappearing into his head. I feel the need to find him.

“I loved the poetry. Do you read to her a lot?”

“I do.” He lets out a sad laugh. “She was always the one to read to me, and now the roles are reversed.”

“It’s a beautiful thing.”

His eyes flick to mine and linger to the point of making me shift in my seat. “You’re right. It is.”

The waitress chooses that moment to return to the table with our food, smirking as if she interrupted something. “Okay, loveys. We’re a little busy tonight. Food is served and apologies for the delay.”

“Thank you,” Vance and I utter at the same time.

“Jinx,” I hurry and say to him.

“I don’t do that shit.” He grins, pouring half the maple syrup bottle onto his pancakes.

My mouth gapes open. “Are you kidding me? You could swim in that.”