Chapter 8 - Who Walks Behind You At Home
The dining room got louder around nine. A big table by the windows ordered another round and laughed too hard at something that wasn't funny, and the sound filled in the space he had left for me. I told myself that was good. Noise was cover.
I stayed the thirty seconds. I counted them by my breathing.
He didn't touch the menu again. He kept his hands flat on either side of the wine glass he hadn't drunk. "You don't have to pour anything," he said. "Just stand where I can see you for a minute."
I shifted my tray to my left arm. "I have other tables."
"I know." He glanced past me toward the kitchen doors, then back. "You're doing fine."
A busboy came out fast with a tub of dishes and cut behind me too close. My shoulders shot up before I could stop them. I stepped sideways, almost into the candle on his table. The flame jumped in the glass holder.
He saw all of it.
"You did it again," he said, quiet.
I tried to laugh it off. It came out wrong. "This place is tight tonight. Everybody's in everybody's way."
He shook his head once. "No. You heard him before you saw him. You moved before he got to you."
My mouth went dry. I looked at the wine glasses to avoid looking at him, at the way the candlelight caught on his watch and his tattooed knuckles.
"It's nothing," I said. "I just don't like when —" I stopped.
"When what?" he asked.
I hated how gentle he kept his voice. Gentle made it harder to keep the lid on. I stared at the dark menu folder like it could give me a line to read.
"I just hate people behind me," I said finally. My voice was low enough I thought the next table wouldn't hear. "Okay? I hate it."
He didn't jump on it. He let the words sit there between us while the busboy's dishes clattered back in the kitchen.
"When did that start?" he asked.
I shook my head. "I don't know. It's just a thing."
"It's not shoes," he said. "Tripping is looking down and missing a step. That's different. That's listening for someone."
My chest tightened. He wasn't guessing loud. He was just putting it together out loud, and that scared me more than if he'd pushed.
"You don't know that," I said.
"I know you haven't looked at the windows once," he said. "You look at the doors. You look at who's walking. That's not clumsy, Harper."
Hearing my name in his mouth again made my eyes burn. I blinked hard and adjusted my apron with my free hand just to have something to do.
Behind me, two servers passed with plates up, and I felt my whole back lock before they even got close. I stepped forward without thinking, closer to his table, into the warm circle of the candle. He noticed. Of course he noticed.
"See?" he said softly.
"Stop," I whispered. "Please."
I wasn't talking about the volume. He seemed to understand that, because he leaned back a little to give me air.
"I'm not trying to corner you," he said. "I'm saying the flinch has timing. Somebody taught you that timing."
The laugh track from the window table rose again. Silverware hit plates. Somewhere a chair scraped tile. All normal restaurant sounds, and every one of them felt like it was coming from behind me.
I couldn't stand there anymore with him reading me that clearly. My hands had started to shake and I was afraid he'd see the tray rattle.
"I need to check the side station," I said. It came out too fast. "We’re low on refills."
"Harper —"
"I'll send someone for your table if you need anything," I said, already stepping back.
He didn't reach for me that time. He just watched me go, his hands still on the table, his face serious in the candlelight.
May you like
I made it to the side station by the kitchen wall and put the tray down hard enough that a fork jumped. I gripped the edge of the counter and forced myself to breathe through my nose. From there I couldn't see his table without turning all the way around, and I didn't. I stayed facing the wall of extra glasses and folded napkins, where nobody could come up behind me without me hearing the ice machine first.
For the rest of that stretch, I took the long way around. I didn't go near the window side again.
