Chapter 13 - Sidewalk Light Through Tall Windows
The chandeliers had gone low by the time I counted my cashout. Not off, just dimmed to that amber hum they used after last seating. The dining room looked smaller that way. The white tablecloths were still white, but the red chairs had gone dark around the edges, and the tall windows up front were all night now, black glass with the sidewalk light cutting across the bottom.
I stood at the side station with my checkout slip and my pen wouldn't work right. I had to press hard to make the totals copy through. My hands smelled like lemon and candle wax.
Dana was counting next to me. She didn't look at my face. She looked at my hands.
"You good to close?" she said.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm almost done."
That was the first scene of it ending. Just paperwork. Just trying to make the numbers line up so I could leave.
In the back hallway by the lockers, I untied my apron. The strings had left a crease across the front of my blue dress. I folded it twice and put it on the shelf where we left the clean ones. I thought about letting my hair down. I always let it down after shift. That night I didn't. I left the ponytail in, pulled it tighter at the back of my neck. It hurt a little where the elastic sat. I wanted to keep everything where it was.
The mirror over the sink was cracked in the corner. I saw my face in it before I could look away. Both cheeks still bruised, the left eye worse under the light. No makeup left to cover it. I hadn't brought anything to reapply. I just stared for a second, breathing through my nose, then I turned off the faucet I hadn't turned on.
Dana came in with her coat already half on. "You changed your shoes?" she said.
"No," I said. I was still in my work shoes.
She nodded toward the front. "I'm parked out back by the dumpster gate. Where are you?"
"Side lot," I said.
She zipped her coat. "Want me to walk you out? We can go out front together and cut around."
I hesitated. I could feel it in my throat. I wanted to say yes fast, because I did want it, and I wanted to say no fast, because saying yes meant she would see whatever was waiting.
"I don't want to make you go out of your way," I said.
"It's not out of my way," she said. "It's the same sidewalk."
That was kind. She said it plain, like it wasn't a big thing. I picked up my bag and held the strap with both hands.
"I'd like that," I said.
Out in the front entry by the coat area, the host stand was empty. The menus were stacked. Somebody had blown out the candles at the tables, but I could still smell them. The front windows went floor to almost ceiling, and through them I could see the empty sidewalk and the streetlamp throwing white light down across the concrete.
He was still there.
He wasn't at his table anymore. He was standing near the far window, back from the door, where anyone coming in or out could see him. Black shirt, black blazer. Hands at his sides now. He wasn't looking at his phone. He was looking out at the street, then at me, then back at the street.
He didn't move toward me. He didn't call my name.
Dana saw him too. She slowed a step. "Does he need something?" she said, low.
"I closed him out," I said. "He's just waiting for his car, I think."
She didn't ask more. She just shifted so she was a little closer to me, her shoulder almost touching mine. We stood there by the coats while the manager locked the bar cabinet and rattled the keys.
I could feel my phone in my bag. It hadn't gone off for almost an hour. Then it did. One buzz against my hip. Then another.
I didn't take it out. Dana glanced at the bag.
"You want to get that first?" she said.
May you like
"No," I said. "Let's just go."
The manager came and held the front door for us. Cold air came in. The sidewalk light stretched through the tall windows and across the tile at our feet, and I stepped toward it with Dana beside me, my bag buzzing again against my side.
