Playing Hard to Forget

“You must not work here very often then,” James laughed at himself knowing full well he works there far more often than any person not employed by the restaurant should. “I’m just breaking down polling numbers for a congressman is all. He seems to think that he has the election in the bag and my main goal is to prove to him that he’s not all that and a bag of chips.”

Erin nodded, “Doing the Gods work, there.” 

“Okay, now that’s some actually helpful information, thank you for that. I was leaning toward those anyway.” Ethan rolled his eyes, “ha. ha. very funny. I only just turned thirty-one thank you very much.”

“I’m just joking.” she replied, rolling her eyes playfully. “Don’t call Grandma on me or anything.”

     “Online drama?” He questioned as he made himself comfortable, eyebrow quirked with curiosity. “Is it okay to ask what happened?”

“Oh, it’s not my drama.” She waved, dismissing the thought. “It’s this Dateline kind of story where this woman thought she’d found the perfect guy and he had, like, two other aliases and wives and it’s so juicy. The twitter thread is ridiculously long but it’s such a good read.”

Maggie smiled as she watched the other woman, spell out the words letter by letter using sign language, a rather impressive feat, Maggie hated fingerspelling. “Don’t worry, I can lip read as long as look at me,” she smiled, “I appreciate the effort though.”

Erin couldn’t help the sigh of relief as she was let off the hook for signing. They would be there forever if they had to be subject to her remedial skills. “I don’t like crispy gingerbread.” she added, continuing their conversation. “There was an old bakery by my college that made a soft, pillowy chocolate covered gingerbread. I am pretty sure that is where my freshman fifteen came from.”

“We apparently went to different bars when we went to Michigan. I never ran into any kind of Kappa Kappa Chino initiation when I went out. Thank god. There is this one dude, who sometimes performs here, and does slam poetry. Which is cool in the right setting, but not here. That would be like me doing a reading of my books. Or something.”

“I would pay to see that.” she emphasized, raising an eyebrow. “Congratulations on the new book by the way. I’ve heard nothing but good things. Are you already thinking of your next?”

“Thank you for absolutely nothing.” Ethan sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I mean I’d kinda like to get this boat done before I’m 50.” Looking over them again Ethan shrugged, “I asked if they had a larger size or some way to test it out but they didn’t have anything. I’ll just stop by the boat later and use my imagination. I have the cabinets installed but they’re kinda useless without tops.”

“You’re welcome.” she answered with a straight face handing the samples back to him. “I will say, these ones where the design is wider make the area look bigger. Optical illusion.”

“Yeah, well, you got me into this mess you can help get me out of it.” Ethan reached into his back pocket and pulled out a couple counter swatches. “There not top of the line, honestly they’re probably dupes but I thought they looked closet to the real thing and they’re pretty durable. I just don’t know if I like the granite look or the marble look, and I feel like they should be somewhere in like the greyish? Not too dark cause I want it to be a bit bright but not too bright, you know?”

She waved him off as she reached for the samples. “Dude, my counters are from Ikea. I am all for affordable dupes.”

She nodded as he talked, completely understanding what he was talking about. His area was so small that one thing that was too dark or light could change the whole feel and even though she tried to picture it in her head, she didn’t know if he’d made any more changes since she’d last been there. “I wish these were, like, contact paper or something so we could cover a piece of plywood and feel them out but they’re really nice.”

“Psh, who needs a shotgun when you got good ol’ black and blue” he said motioning to his arms, which had muscles but not enough to be bragging about. “Just out running errands this morning, turns out I’m picky about my counter tops.”

Erin faked a gagging motion as he flexed, playfully holding her hand against her chest. “Well, you should be.” she replied, pride in her voice. “This is totally my influence. I am so proud.”

     Typically, Charlie wouldn’t mind standing while waiting for his coffee but with so many bustling bodies he felt like he would be in someone’s way regardless of where he stood. The recently purchased cookbooks also weighing heavy on his shoulders so he’s grateful for the seat. “Thank you so much, I didn’t mean to disturb you or anything. I’ll get you your next round of coffee as my apology.”

Erin smiled, "That’s very generous of you. Seriously, though, if I wasn’t caught up in reading this drama online I would have offered the seat sooner.”

“I’m not really a pumpkin person,” she admitted. “Though I do love a gingerbread concoction.” She introduced herself, using sign language, more just as a way to indicate that she couldn’t really hear, “I’m Maggie, it’s lovely to meet you.”

Erin’s brow furrowed, her brain moving slower to remember the rudimentary ASL she had learned in high school. She pressed her lips together, thinking as she slowly spelled out letter by letter, “Nice to meet you. Little rusty at this. Sorry.”

“Do you think the hype will die down soon? I’m happy for the owners, they totally deserve it. But I don’t like sharing my favorite diner with everyone in Vesta.”

“You, me, and every other regular.” she replied, smiling. “It’ll die down in a few weeks but it’ll probably flare up every once in a while.”

“If you don’t think this place is entertaining, then you’re just not hanging out with the right people when you’re here.”

“That may be true.” she acquiesced. “I seem to choose the nights when the performer leaves their talent at home. So,” she drew out the word, “are you the right kind of person to hang out with?”

Ethan returned her eye roll with one of his own as his sister planned her future of teas and Tevas.  “Alright, relax, that’s a bit dramatic. I’m sure some nice gentleman will pass my check list and you’ll live happily ever after.” He knew she’d find someone but knowing the men out there, he wasn’t too upset she wasn’t hooked up with some low life. 

She listened, nodding slowly, “Yeah, yeah. Put away your shotgun.”

“No, but that’s when you make up something lame to cheers to. Like, here’s to having one more day of warm-ish weather before we take a deep dive into winter,” he chuckled, taking the drink from the bartender. “Ah, come on, the talent here usually isn’t that bad.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’s a legit open mic and not Kappa Eta Rho initiating their fresh meat.” She then raised her beer, “Here’s to having gotten the hell out of college. Go Blue, though.”

“Two for one beers? And you’re offering? Sure, I’ll take your free beer.” He chuckled, leaning against the bar. “What are we drinking for?”

“Does one really need a reason?” she asked, sounding serious and academic as she motioned to the bartender for another round. “No reason, really. Maybe it’ll make whoever is about to get up there seem better? Hopefully it won’t make them seem worse.”

“Even if it wasn’t open I would hope I’d get priority over some stranger. Unless you were here on a date- are you on a date?”

“You would have, probably. Maybe.” she answered honestly before rolling her eyes. “No, not on a date though I am pleased you thought that. You know, I was thinking about buying some Tevas and investing in weird teas even though, you know, I don’t drink tea. Really embracing my descent into Spinsterhood.”

“Thanks.” Harley replied, sitting down next to her as he looked around the diner. “I can’t believe there aren’t any tables left. It’s usually not this busy here.”

“I am sure some trendy blog wrote about this place and,” she waved her hand in the air, “here we are.”