Free Blue Jeans and Coffee Beans by Joanne DeMaio Page A

a glass vase from the cabinet beside the refrigerator and fills it with water.
    “Mom’s got the kids and I’m working till six, so she’s feeding them dinner.” She still leans on the door, not moving in the heat. “What are we celebrating anyway?” Watching Kyle, she thinks that even if he finds a permanent job, it might not help them at this point.
    “Sit down.” Kyle slides out a kitchen chair and Lauren sits while he peels off the plastic and sets the flowers into the vase. “Listen to this,” he says as he arranges the flowers. “Jerry’s going away for a couple weeks. To Maine.”
    “Maine.”
    “His son lives there. Somewhere on the coast. Jerry and his wife are taking a two-week vacation there. And before he goes, he’s taking a few days to finish up some chores around his house. Painting his porch, that kind of thing.” Kyle swings a chair around and sits backward, his hands clasped over the top.
    “So?”
    Kyle stares at her.
    “What?” she asks, hands turned up.
    “Come on, think about it. He’s leaving me in charge of The Dockside for almost three weeks. He was never comfortable leaving the diner before and always closed up on vacation. But he wants me to handle it. I’ll be running the whole show.”
    Possibilities run through Lauren’s mind: of Kyle turning this stint into another management job, of the money Jerry will pay him. She relents and goes to the refrigerator, pulling out the bottle of wine. Kyle stretches behind him and grabs two juice glasses from the counter. She fills them, feeling him watching as she pours herself only enough for a toast.
    “More money?” she asks.
    “Of course.”
    “Well congratulations then. It’s nice to have good news for a change.” They touch glasses and drink the wine.
    Lauren tries not to, but still, in the back of her mind, she waits for the bomb to fall. For the refrigerator to break. For the furnace to quit. For the pickup truck to break down. Good news never comes alone into their home. Something always sneaks in on its tail. She looks at the flowers and notices one white daisy has snapped. Its head droops.
    “When’s Jerry leaving?”
    “Next Thursday. I’ll start Monday so he can show me around the office.”
    Her mind calculates that the first two weeks of their vacation, Kyle will be working full days and some nights, what with the food ordering and paperwork. He’ll be exhausted. By the third week, he’ll be done and want to be with them at the cottage. They’ll cross that bridge when they get to it. For now, she plans to go on vacation with or without him. With him for a little while won’t be that bad.
    Kyle tops off his glass and takes a long swallow. “Listen, Ell.” He reaches across the table, taking her hand in his. “I know it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. Let’s celebrate.” He hitches his head toward the staircase, a question on his face.
    Lauren reads it. It asks her not to think that he found only three weeks of full-time work. That funds are getting low and he’s feeling nervous. Every line, every shadow on his face comes from that worry. But with a glass of wine downed and Kyle’s attitude filled with optimism, she could give in.
    “Come on,” he says. Half standing, Kyle bends over the table and kisses her on the mouth. His hands embrace her neck and lift her hair off her damp skin. She likes that she has no time to think. He just leans over and she can only feel: the warm air in the quiet house, the perspiration beneath her hair, his hands moving down her back, her mouth opening to his. The cicadas buzz outside in the trees and Kyle slips her shirt off her shoulder. As the kiss deepens, he leans closer, knocking over her empty glass so that it rolls off the table, splintering on the floor. Lauren pulls back at the sound.
    “Don’t stop,” Kyle says.
    “I can’t do this, Kyle.” She glances at her watch. “My lunch break’s up.”
    “Who wants to take inventory in this heat?