The Biscuits and Gravy at Lola's

*Sensitive content: grief/pregnancy loss mentioned*

There is something about coming back to this small town for the holidays. It’s got all the makings of a holiday movie. Fresh snow on the ground, festive lights hung through main street, Michael Bublé’s Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas playing on my car radio for probably the hundredth time on my eight hour drive here. The town residents are spread throughout main street, some window shopping, others actually shopping last minute gifts, and some eating at the little cafés spread down the street. That’s where I’m heading now.

I haven’t been back in ten years. I left this town for a reason. It’s got all the makings of a holiday movie but it isn’t anything like one. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone knows everyone’s business and doesn’t mind giving their two cents. Even though I haven’t returned in ten years, I’m sure everyone knows my business because my parents still live here. It’s part of why I’ve been avoiding it. I was married and happy for the first five years of my absence, the last five years have been a bitter divorce battle that as my southern mother would say, ‘have the tongue’s wagging in church on Sunday.’ I remind myself to not be there this week.

I pull up to the same café that’s been on the corner of main street since the buildings been built, Lola’s. In fact, I think it was built for this café. At least that’s the story everyone goes with. It’s been passed through the same family for generations. And as much as I dread going inside for the company I might find…they also have the best biscuits and gravy this side of Mississippi and it’s my one highlight of coming home.

I park my car as I head towards the café. The big square windows tells me it’s pretty empty inside, giving me a bit of relief. There is a young girl picking up dishes, she welcomes me as I step inside, telling me to grab a seat anywhere. She’s young enough she might not remember me at first glance. But I’ve known her since she was born, she’s probably fourteen now. The nametag on her shirt, Nicole, confirms that it’s her and furthermore makes me feel officially old. I sit up at the counter since grabbing a table for one makes me look even lonelier than I feel.

I take off my jacket, hanging it across the back. “Doesn’t feel that long ago that you were draping your letterman’s across the back of that chair.” I’d know that silvery voice anywhere. I turn back around to see Dawn standing behind the counter, tablet in hand ready to take my order. She’s been working here for as long as I’ve been coming here and probably one of the sweetest ladies I know. I can’t imagine this place without her.

“Doesn’t feel that long ago that you use to take my order with a pen and paper.”

“Times are changing Camden; it makes Chef’s job a little easier not having to read my chicken scratch anyhow.” She sets the tablet down. “Not that I need to write your order down anyway. Biscuits and gravy?”

“Assuming you still have it on the menu.”

“For as long as I’m breathing.”

That makes me a little sad to think about, especially since my parents are around the same age. I don’t really have that much longer with them then I think I do. “So I’ve still got another seventy years to eat it?”

She smiles, “Very cute, try forty if I’m lucky.”

“It’s them that make me feel so old.” I say looking towards Nicole heading into the back.

“You fall into that category for me.” She says scooping up her tablet. “Still want a coke with it?”

“Upgraded to coffee since my letterman jacket days.” I look back at her. “But for old times sake. Rather not try to change something that isn’t broken.”

She nods as she heads back to get my drink.

It’s then that I see her walking through the door, Maia. Shaking some snow off her jacket. I’ve done my best not to internet stalk her. Especially once I was married and happy, I had no reason too. And after my marriage ended, I was too broken down to even think about what she might be doing.

She’s wearing an emerald green knit hat, that brings out her dark skin. She takes it off, smoothing her thick curls back down as they bounce back in defiance. Her cheeks are flush, a different red hue, almost rosy from the chill outside versus the deep red she’d get when she was with me. Her double buttoned peacoat is cinched in at her waist, accentuating her curves.

She stands at the register, maybe picking up a to-go order. I wonder if she orders the same thing she used to order. Thin Belgian waffle with their homemade syrup and whatever fresh fruit they have in season to top it with. I almost laugh at the thought that I remember her order. I know when she came here with friends, she changed it around but with me it was always the same. Of course we came here every Saturday morning that we dated. Our booth that we always sat in remains empty.

I hear a glass on the counter as I look over and see Dawn standing there, noticing who I’m staring at. “You should say hello.”

I take a sip of my soda, the bubbles popping against my tongue. “Rather not.” I say as I notice a ring on her finger. “Might stir up old shit and she seems happy now.”

“Since when does a ring on your finger make you happy?” She asks.

“You’d know a little something about that Camden.”

“Yeah well, I’m divorced.” I say holding up my barren hand.

I watch Maia as she smiles as she talks to the staff at the register. My heart nearly dies at the sight of it. I know that smile anywhere. It’s the one that she puts on so people don’t fuss over her, but she’s crumbling inside. The way that I can see the agonizing pain it takes to force the smile out of her just to get through the conversation. The same smile she gave me when I told her I was engaged.

“Just because you’ve been gone doesn’t mean I don’t know your business, as does everyone around here.”

“That’s really helpful.” I say dryly.

“It didn’t get easier for her after you left.”

Which was one of the reasons I stayed away. When we broke up it was hell. When I ended up getting engaged the town pitied her. I didn’t want my marriage flaunting in her face or having others do it for me, so I made excuses not to come back. I thought if I wasn’t seen as much, I wouldn’t be talked about. Meaning she’d get to move on in peace.

“How bad?”

“You know this town, how it operates. It thrives on drama and gossip. You two were together since you were Nicole’s age—”

“Before that actually.” We were just barley eleven. Still a tender age of innocence and hope.

“Even worse then. You two were supposed to make it to the altar, according to the town. You were each other’s first loves, stayed together through college…and no one really knows why you two separated. So it’s all gossip. Some say cheating, others say you’re secretly gay.”

I roll my eyes at the comment.

“There were even rumors that she was infertile and that’s why you left.”

That comment stings me. I wince at the actual pain of the memory and the fact that people had the nerve to talk about her that way. Dawn thankfully doesn’t notice my reaction.

“Of course once she married and had a child of her own, it went back to either cheating or gay rumors.”

“Sure divorce doesn’t help my favor in that rumor department then.”

“Not really.” She says and I realize she’s pitying me now. “Only a few people believe that anyway.”

“Isn’t that enough?” In a town like this, it really takes the word of one person before it becomes fact. Not that being gay is a bad thing, at least not to me. Leaving this small town has opened my eyes to how ignorant it really is.

“In this town anyway.” She says almost aligning with my thoughts.

“She hasn’t been here the whole time, has she?” For some reason that thought makes me sad. Like she never got out and explored the world and people outside this town.

“No, moved back about two years ago. Her father was sick.”

“Was?” I question, picking up on the past tense. But her face tells me what I need to know. “Shit.”

“He died nine months after she moved back. Poor thing. She’s been going through his estates, selling off his things. The house is the last thing to go. She puts a for sale sign up and everything and then takes it down about a month later. A month after that she puts it back up again and repeat.”

“Why?”

“No one knows. People are interested but she doesn’t ever say why she declines the offer.” She says. “Personally I think she just isn’t ready, that house means a lot to her.”

It was right outside that house that we shared our first kiss and about a thousand more after that. “And her husband?”

“Legally separated. He’s got their daughter for the holiday’s this year.”

“She stills wears a ring?”

“The town nearly lost their minds when they spotted her without it.” She says rolling her eyes. “Technically and legally she’s still married, they liked to remind her of that.”

“God this town.” I bet she can’t even date due to the technicality that she’s still married.

“I’m not sure what’s worse, people talking about you in whispers or just coming straight up to you and saying what they think. It happens everywhere, some towns are just bolder then others.” She taps the counter. “I’ll go check on your food.” Perhaps giving me the moment to talk with her without anyone watching.

Maia looks over at the booth we used to sit at, a small smile comes to her face. So at least she has happy memories of us here. I can see the stress on her face, dealing with the death of her father let alone going through her own marriage troubles. Her eyes drift up into my direction as my heart sinks into my stomach. The feeling of someone watching her, pulling her away from her thoughts. This is the part where I could look away, pretend that I never saw her. But what if she doesn’t talk to me? Walks out and never acknowledges my presence. My mind would be playing the what ifs forever.

So I stay with my eyes locked on her as hers connect with mine. I see her body react, the way her breath is almost stolen from her. Surprised that I’m sitting just a few feet away. Refusing to blink because I might disappear. The same exact things I felt when she entered the café. I try to soften our encounter, a small smile comes to my face. She returns it, a genuine smile this time.

I noticed Dawn hasn’t returned with my biscuits and gravy yet. So I take the opportunity to be a man and actually speak to her. I stand from my chair, walking over to her. I stop far enough away that gives her some space. “Maia.”

“Cam.” Her voice is small and soft. The same way she sounded when we last spoke. I still remember the forced smile and how low her voice was when she offered her congratulations on my engagement. The one tear that nearly wreaked me. That wasn’t what I was looking for, I just wanted to tell her before someone else did. I miss the matter of fact way she used to talk, as if she had all the confidence in the words she spoke. And I know I’m part of the reason why she doesn’t talk like this now.

“It’s good to see you. I just heard about your dad…I’m sorry.”

“It was quick.” She says, it’s obvious this is a conversation she’s had about a million times.

“See you got married.” I say nodding down to the ring. I don’t know why I said that because I know the ending. Maybe it’s so she can share the news herself rather than me knowing everything about her.

“See you got divorced.” She says looking at my empty ring finger.

“Which is pretty much where my marriage is heading.”

“Sorry to hear it.”

“I’m not.” She says. “Just wish that my daug—” She stops, maybe to not hurt me. That’s something I don’t want her to stop talking about. Her being a mother…after it was ripped away from her, from both of us being parents…she should talk proudly of her family if she choices.

“Dawn kind of told me what was going on when she saw you. You can say daughter, it’s not a dirty word.”

“Guess I should expect it, town gossips is how I heard about your divorce.”

“Which parts, the rumors or the actual truth?”

“Both I expect.”

“Somethings in this town don’t change.”

“Not at all.” She says.

“Still getting a waffle?” I ask, nodding towards the counter.

“I save those for Saturday’s.” I don’t know if she’s just saying that to make me feel good or if that’s true. "Just eggs today." She looks over at me. “Biscuits and Gravy?”

“And a coke.” I say. “Couldn’t change tradition.”

We both stand in awkward silence and I hate every moment of it. How can we be this way with one another? I know there was a devasting loss between us, now time and distance to strengthen that but I hate the silence.

“Did you want to sit with me?”

“Sorry?”

“Rumor has it you’re alone, I’m alone. Figured we could eat and catch up.”

“Actually I was getting this to-go, planning on heading back home.”

“Oh.” I notice her looking around and I get why she doesn’t want to sit with me. Hardly anyone is here right now but the big café windows, it invites anyone walking by to take notice. “Well I don’t want to cause more problems for you.”

“Too late for that.”

“Sorry, it was good seeing you, Maia.” I start heading back to my seat.

Her voice stops me. “Thought you weren’t ever coming back to this town?”

“Didn’t need too when I was married.” I turn towards her. “My parents came to me and I liked it that way.”

“But now you’re back?”

“For now.”

“Sorry your marriage didn’t work out.”

“Best it didn’t.” I explain. “She took me for everything I had. I feel young enough to start over.”

“Think your good looks are going somewhere?” Her voice growing back to that confidence that I fell in love with. The awkward barriers between us breaking away.

“What’s your opinion?”

She smiles, “You’re getting better with age…if we are only judging by looks, I can’t account for personality. We haven’t spoken in ten years. People change, they grow…unless you stay in this town.”

“Well there is one way around that. You could join me…our booth is free.” I say nodding to it, hoping the happy memories attached make her stay.

“People talk enough.”

“Not sure I care too much with what people in this town think of me.”

“Sure you do.” She says. “Everyone does. It’s why you stayed gone, to avoid judgment and town gossip.”

“Speaking from experience?” I question lightly. “It’s just catching up Maia, no strings attached, no expectations.”

“You’ll expect talking.”

I smile, “Ok one thing.”

“I’m a mom…I might want to talk about her and I’m not sure how you’ll feel.”

“Happy.” I say honestly. “You’ve always deserved to be a mom. What happened between us…that loss…it wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“It’s what destroyed us Cam.” We never agreed on how the other was handling it. She wanted to try again after some time. I couldn’t deal with the possibility of losing another. The truth being I just wasn’t over the first loss but couldn’t explain.

“And hopefully we’re in a better place. I want to hear about her.”

I walk over to the booth and slide in my usual spot as she watches me before following suit. It’s hard not to have the memories floating in, especially with her sitting across from me. She takes a deep breath and my chest tightens, yeah…I feel it too.

Dawn comes back out of the kitchen, passing me my food and Maia’s which is on a plate instead of a box. We both look at her. “Just figured she’d want a plate.”

“Thanks Dawn.” I cut into my biscuit taking a bite, the biscuit is flaky outside, soft inside. The scent of buttermilk through the layers. They make the biscuits from scratch every morning. The gravy, though never appealing in color, but in taste is creamy and warm, bits of sausage with it. God I could live in this one bite forever.

“I’ll bring your jacket and coke.” Dawn says.

I shake my head. “At least Dawn has stayed the same.”

Dawn swings back round placing my jacket next to my seat and drink on the table. “More gray hair.” She squeezes my shoulder, heading towards the back.

“So I guess we’ve got a decade to catch up on.”

“It’s not all pretty.” Maia says rather uncomfortably.

“Didn’t expect it to be.”

“Not sure where to start.”

“Let’s start with the obvious then. Since when did you start putting maple syrup on your eggs?”