“Gia…” Rush raked his hand through his hair for what seemed like the tenth time. “I don’t have any answers.”
I didn’t have a right to be mad at his noncommittal response. I’d gotten myself into this predicament, and I wasn’t naïve enough to think this didn’t change everything. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t crush me to feel him pulling away.
Rush’s phone chimed, and he pulled it from his pocket. “Shit. The liquor company is at The Heights with my delivery. I’m supposed to be there now to accept it.”
“Go.” I forced a smile. “Can’t run a bar without liquor, and unfortunately my predicament isn’t going anywhere in a hurry.”
He stood. “Yeah. Alright. I’ll…I’ll see you later.” Rush walked a few steps toward my bedroom door and then came back to where I still sat on the bed. “Get some rest.” He kissed the top of my head.
Somehow I managed to keep the tears in until he walked out, and I heard his car start out front. Then I let it all out. I cried and cried, until eventually I cried myself to sleep.
“What’s up, Gia?” Oak lifted his chin when I walked into work early for my shift. I hadn’t heard from Rush all day and hoped he’d be here so maybe we could talk again. The initial shock had probably turned into something different by now, and I wondered what he was feeling. His Mustang hadn’t been in the parking lot when Riley dropped me off, but my car was. He must’ve gotten it started somehow.
I went to the office and knocked. After waiting a few minutes, I took a deep breath and cracked the door open. Empty. My pulse sped up as I wandered around the main floor of the restaurant looking for him. Every time I thought he might be behind a door—in the kitchen, the supply room, the back—
I held my breath as I took a peek. Each time he wasn’t there, I was disappointed and relieved at the same time.
On my way upstairs, the phone rang. I’d forgotten to grab it from the office where it normally sat on the charger on Rush’s desk overnight. But the sound was coming from the dining area. Someone had left it at the hostess station along with my car keys. I answered the phone and took a reservation for seven o’clock. A barstool that wasn’t usually at the hostess station was also set up there, though it wasn’t one of the ones from the bar. It was leather, and padded with a nice tall back. After the call, I stayed sitting in it for a few more minutes and practiced some deep breaths before heading to the stairs. The only place left where Rush could be was up on the rooftop bar.
But when I got upstairs, no one was around except for Oak. He was behind the bar changing out a beer keg. I walked over. “Oak? Do you know where Rush is?”
“Haven’t seen him since he dropped off your chair and car.”
My chair?
“He’s not here?”
“Nope.” He finished pushing the keg into its tight space and wiped his hands on a towel. “Figured you knew that. He left your car keys and that chair he bought. Said he was taking the night off.”
My stomach clenched. “Oh. Okay. Thank you.”
I sulked my way back down the stairs and went to dig my phone from my purse. I hadn’t checked it since I’d left the house. Maybe Rush had texted to let me know he wouldn’t be in tonight. Of course, deep down, I knew from the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach that there’d be no text. But that didn’t stop me from checking.
An overwhelming sadness came over me when I confirmed he hadn’t sent a text. I tried to tell myself that it didn’t mean anything. Rush just needed some time to let everything sink in. Who wouldn’t? It hadn’t truly sunk in for me yet either.
When Oak came back downstairs, I forced myself to get busy. Work would at least be a distraction. I did my usual pre-opening routine, although I set up my cellphone to vibrate when any new texts came
in and then slipped it into my pocket while I went about getting everything ready for the night. Even though it never vibrated, I checked it incessantly anyway.
Oak stopped by the hostess station while I was slipping the paper with the printed daily specials into the plastic menu jackets. “Five minutes to opening, G.”
“Okay. Thanks.” When he started to walk away, a thought dawned on me. “Oak?”
He turned back. “Hmmm?”
“Where is this chair I’m sitting on supposed to go? You said Rush dropped it off. Does it belong in the office?”
“Nope. He said something about the hostesses needing a place to rest their feet.” He winked. “But I’m pretty sure there’s only one hostess whose feet Rush gives a crap about.”
Despite the sadness I felt from Rush not making contact at all today and taking the night off, which I suspected was to avoid me, I latched on to the fact that he’d taken the time to go out and buy a chair so that I could have a place to rest if I needed it. Not to mention, he’d also fixed my car to make sure I wouldn’t walk home. It was crazy to even think about, but Rush would make a really great father with all his protectiveness.
The restaurant stayed busy for the next few hours, so at least I couldn’t sit around obsessing too much over my situation. Forced smiles and friendly chitchat were basically most of my job. But by ten o’clock when things slowed down, and I’d practically killed my phone battery from constantly checking for a message that never arrived, I had no more fake smiles to give.
Oak noticed and stopped by. “You okay, G?”
“Yeah. Just a bit tired.” It wasn’t a lie. I was exhausted, both emotionally and physically.
Oak raised a single eyebrow. “Mmm-hmm. Boss looked just a bit tired when he stopped in, too.”
“Did he…say anything?”
“If you haven’t noticed, Rush is a thinker, not much of a talker.”
That comment was awarded my first genuine smile of the evening.
Oak looked over my shoulder into the dining room. “Looks like you only have one table left. They all finished?”
“Yeah. Just sipping their coffee. The waitress left them the bill, but they aren’t rushing to pay it so I can run the credit card.”
He nodded his head toward the door. “Go home. I’ll run the card. Get some rest. While you’re at it, call the man and tell him you forgive him for whatever stupid shit he did wrong.”
I wished it were that easy. “You sure you don’t mind?”
“Go home. Bossman would kick my ass if he knew I didn’t send you home when you needed to go.”
“Thanks, Oak.”
I drove home in a fog. It was stupid of me, and in the future, I probably shouldn’t put myself at risk like that if I’m not feeling alert enough to drive. It wasn’t just me anymore I needed to think about.
When I pulled up to my house, I killed the ignition and relaxed back into the driver’s seat. For the first time, I put my hand on my stomach. It felt surreal to acknowledge that there was a person growing inside of me.
“Hey. I’m…well, I guess I’m your mom.” I rubbed a gentle circle just below my belly button.
“I feel like I should have introduced myself by now. But, I only found out you existed yesterday.”
God. Has it really only been one day?
I took a deep breath. “I just wanted you to know that just because you weren’t planned, doesn’t mean that I’ll ever make you feel like you are unwanted. My dad used to say, ‘Life is ten percent of what happens to you and ninety percent what you make of it.’ And you and me, we’re going to make the best of it. Just like my dad and I did.”
Finished with my odd little introduction, I pulled my phone from the car charger, tossed the keys into my purse, and got out of the car. As I walked to the front door, I couldn’t help but check my text messages again. After all, the fifteen-minute drive home was probably the longest stretch I’d gone without checking all day.