Late to the Party - Kelly Quindlen Page 0,35

read over my message, trying to see it through their eyes. Did saying “whenever you want” sound too eager, too desperate? Should I have played more hard to get?

Natalie Novak: Yaaaassssss! How about tomorrow after Lyd and I finish at the restaurant? We’re on the breakfast shift til 2.

I hadn’t known Lydia and Natalie worked at the restaurant together, but the idea settled perfectly in my head: Lydia wearing a server’s apron, popping up to a table with that bright, beaming smile, asking old folks whether they wanted bacon with their eggs. I pictured myself seated at one of her tables, trying not to blush when her hand grazed mine as she collected my menu.

I agreed to meet them at the restaurant, Natalie gave me the name and address, and I figured that was the end of it. I tucked myself into bed, already imagining how it would go the next day, and was just about to fall asleep when my phone glowed blue in the darkness. Lydia had sent one more text.

Lydia Kaufman aka Jason Waterfalls: Can’t wait. Thanks Codi!

Below that, she sent a GIF from TLC’s “Waterfalls” video.

I closed my eyes, smiling to myself. Despite having to work a nine A.M. shift the next day, I couldn’t wait to wake up.

* * *

Work dragged and dragged and dragged. The store was dead, so Tammy asked me to refold a wall of T-shirts. It was miserable, and I was exhausted, but every few minutes I’d remember that I was going to see Lydia afterward and suddenly I’d feel buoyant.

When my shift ended, I went straight to my car, took off my goofy name tag, and tried to make my hair look cuter. This annoying little voice in my head kept saying, None of this matters, she’s probably straight, but another voice, one that reminded me of Ricky, said, Stop worrying and enjoy this feeling.

The Court Café’s parking lot was emptying out by the time I got there. I waited in my car, savoring the air-conditioning, but as soon as the clock hit two I got out and leaned against the car door, trying to look casual while the staff slipped out the back exit.

Lydia and Natalie were the last to leave, laughing together as they spilled out of the restaurant. The moment they stepped off the sidewalk, Lydia noticed me and broke into that big smile.

“Hey,” she called, walking toward me. She was wearing a sky-blue polo shirt with the restaurant logo on it, and her hair was up in a messy ponytail with these little flyaway hairs dancing around her face. I had a tender, visceral urge to tuck them behind her ear.

“Wanna come inside?” Natalie asked, pulling up behind Lydia. “We’re closed until dinner at five, so it’s super chill in there. I was thinking we could do the portrait on the back porch.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said, grabbing my stuff out of the car. “That sounds perfect.”

Lydia offered me a hand with my supplies. I gave her the sketchpad to carry, and our fingertips touched for the briefest second. A tingling sensation ran up my neck, and I blushed, but thankfully she didn’t seem to notice.

“Sorry we took so long,” Lydia said as they led me inside. “We were swamped today. There’s some national Little League tournament going on, so all these families came in at the same time. One of my tables was from Vermont, and I don’t think they’d ever been to the South before, because they got all excited about ordering grits.”

I found myself smiling at her. “Did they like them?”

“No, they thought they were gross. But I affected a cute little accent so they could still have an authentic southern experience. I’ve said ‘y’all’ about a hundred times in the last two hours.”

Natalie snorted. “You’re such an exaggerator. You’re not even southern!” She turned to look at me. “Her family’s from Michigan.”

“Yeah, and yours is from New Jersey,” Lydia said, poking her in the back, “but you still drink swayt tay like it’s your job.”

We filed onto the restaurant’s enclosed porch, looking out over a forest of trees. The tables were clean and set for the dinner shift, but Lydia and Natalie had created an opening where we could work on the portrait.

“How’s this?” Natalie said, plopping down in a chair by the porch screen.

Lydia hovered by the table next to her, and for the first time, I realized I hadn’t thought this through. I usually worked alone, removed from everyone else. Now