Page 29 of Waves of Time
Aria answered the phone on the third ring. “Hi? Is everything okay?” She sounded panicked, and Hilary wondered what a drug addict was supposed to sound like.Was her heart rate higher than normal? Was her breathing like it always was?
“Hi, honey! Um. I just wanted to check in.”
Aria was quiet for a moment. “That’s really nice, Mom. But we’re slammed at the restaurant. I have eight tables, and I’m in the weeds.”
Hilary really wondered what was going on.She had to give her daughter the benefit of the doubt.Didn’t she?
“Honey, you’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?” Hilary asked, unable to stop herself.
“What? Of course,” Aria said. Although this, Hilary knew, could be a lie. After all, it was a rule in the Coleman family not to talk about tremendously painful things. For example, Roland had kept his father’s affair and second family to himself for decades.
“You promise me?” Hilary asked.
“Yeah, Mom. I love you.” Aria stuttered. “I really have to go, okay? We can talk later.”
“I love you, too,” Hilary said, just before Aria hung up.
ChapterEleven
“What beers do you have on tap?” A tourist with a very bad sunburn on his forehead and nose blinked at Aria as his four young children and wife squabbled at the table around him. It seemed like he no longer heard their cries.
“Um? We don’t have beers on tap,” Aria said for the sixth time that day, despite the fact that that information was listed plainly in the menu he held in his hands. “Just beers in bottles and cans.”
The man furrowed his brow, as though Aria had just explained to him the earth was flat, and returned his eyes to his menu. “Just a Coke, then,” he said. “With extra ice.”
Aria sighed and continued to take the rest of the orders, which was a difficult task, given the young ages of some of his children. The other tables glared at her, waiting for their drinks, appetizers, and other dishes, as though she could be in three or four places at once.
After she grabbed the table’s drinks, Aria passed by Violet, who looked just as panicked as Aria felt.
“The seven-top I just served gave me a five percent tip,” Violet said, her forehead glistening with sweat.
Aria’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
Violet wrinkled her nose and hurried away to take a new table’s order as Aria stewed with rage at the seven tops' terrible tipping. At Robby’s Crab Cabin, Violet and Aria made their money exclusively with tips, but this wasn’t such a bizarre thing across the United States. Some people just didn’t understand that. In fact, Aria felt so passionate, so enraged, that she nearly caught the table on their way out of the restaurant to explain it to them, but before she could, the father with the terrible sunburn called her to the table to say, “I ordered a Corona! Not a Coke!” and she was off to the races again, trying to make everyone happy at once.
It had been a strange afternoon, especially ever since her mother’s phone call. Aria had never heard her mother sound like that before, and it had terrified her in a passive way, as there was nothing she could do about it right now.
But it wasn’t totally Hilary’s fault that Aria felt so bizarre. Ever since she’d grabbed an Uber away from the party, away from Thaddeus and the rumors about how he really made his money, she’d been avoiding him. She hadn’t texted him or answered any of his calls, and this had resulted in a feeling of total loneliness that made it difficult to breathe sometimes. She hadn’t realized how much she’d leaned on him for emotional support. She hadn’t realized just how “in love” she’d been, or heading there, at least.
When Violet had asked Aria about why she’d left the party like that, Aria had said simply, “I’m a little freaked out about whatever Thaddeus is involved with,” and Violet had nodded and said, “I get it.” That had been enough to solidify Aria’s belief she was doing the right thing. Still, it made her ache.
The three hours till close seemed to take a small infinity. Aria pushed herself not to look at the clock on the wall, which did little to help the time pass quicker. The family with the sunburnt dad tipped only a little more than ten percent, which left her in a foul mood, and a baby at another table knocked over not one, but three glasses of sticky Sprite. In the kitchen, Aria and Violet shook with a mix of fatigue and rage, and the kitchen staff promised them big helpings of French fries and fish immediately after they closed the door.
“We’re going to need it,” Aria said.
When the last guest left, Violet turned the key in the lock, and Aria, Violet, and the kitchen staff howled and yelled, triumphant about their freedom. One of the kitchen guys hurried out with two extra-big platters of fish and French fries and ordered Aria and Violet to sit at the bar while he poured them two glasses of white wine. As Aria sat on the stool, her legs shook.
“This job is going to kill me,” she said.
Violet moaned as she spritzed her fish with fresh lemon. “At least you’re on your way out of here. I might be stuck as a waitress the rest of my life.”
“That isn’t true,” Aria tried, but Violet shot her a look that meant business, and Aria kept her opinions to herself. Sometimes, people just had to feel their feelings. She knew that better than most.
But just as Aria began to eat her succulent trout, there was a knock on the glass door. Her heart sunk into her stomach as she turned around to see him there— the man she’d wanted to avoid for the rest of her life, if she could manage it. Thaddeus looked like a lost dog, his hair tousled and his eyes big and sad.
“Should I tell him to go?” Violet asked.
Aria shook her head. “No. He deserves to hear it from me.” She slid back onto her tired legs and walked toward the door, where Thaddeus’ smile got bigger and bigger, as though he’d decided that her not texting him back had been a fluke, a mistake. Maybe she hadn’t been getting his messages after all.