Unexpected Date

The nostalgic smell of the freshly baked bread permeated the air, wrapping itself around me like a thick blanket. Luigi’s Italian restaurant, which was usually bustling with life on a Saturday night held less than half of its capacity. Probably because of the new Mexican restaurant that just opened up a few doors down. 

I sat directly in the center, by request, that way my eyes were on the door. 

I had been waiting for five minutes when the waiter came, “Good evening, I’m Jared. I will be taking care of you today.” He said, “Can I start you off with some water?”  

“Yes, please.” I watched as he took my empty glass and filled it with water. 

“Can I start you off with some bread or anything else to drink?” he goes on to ask. 

“No” I said, “I’m waiting for someone.” On instinct, my eyes move towards the door. The see-through glass revealed that no one was approaching the restaurant.  

“Okay, let me know if you need anything.” He says, then turns to leave. 

Glad to be left alone, I shift my attention around the restaurant. A young woman sits over by the window, coaxing her young child to take a bite of his meal. The further she prodded the spoon in his direction, the further he went under the table. On the other end, an elderly couple sat side by side, smiles dancing all the way to their eyes. It looked like they were celebrating something. An anniversary maybe? 

Suddenly feeling self-conscious I pull out my phone and read a series of messages. 

Please don’t be late again. 

I had sent Elliot before coming to the restaurant. It only took minutes for him to respond. 

When am I ever late? 

You’re not funny! 

Okay, I promise not to be late. 

Just need to finish up a few things. 

Once again, I fix my gaze on the door. My throat tightens with apprehension. I just wanted him to come. Feeling silly I turn and almost jump out my seat when I realize my waiter has returned. He flashes me an apologetic smile. “I'm sorry for scaring you.” Jared says, “Are you sure you don't want bread while you wait?”

“No, thank you,” I said, feeling like I was out of breath. 

I take in his dark hair and brown eyes that regard me sincerely. It was like he could see right through me. Heat crept into my cheeks and I try my best to shake it off. I noticed that I had never seen him before. I pretty much knew the whole staff because of the many times I frequented here.  

“Are you new?” 

The corners of his mouth lift into a smile, “Yes, I only been here for a month.” 

“Do you come here often?”

“Yes I come with—“ I stopped myself before continuing “I usually come at the end of the month.” 

Jared nods thoughtfully, before turning to tend to a customer who signaled for him. I draw out a breath of surprised relief, glad to see him go. Something uncertain and strange was surging through me and I didn’t want to acknowledge it. He moved swiftly through the restaurant without stopping, tending to every guest as if they were his own personal visitor. 

The restaurant began thinning out, leaving only me and a couple that came in about fifteen minutes ago. Of course, an hour had passed after sifting through every social media platform. 

  The feeling of sitting here never changed. I find myself looking through the messages again, my hand frozen over the keyboard. The laughter of the waitresses catches my attention. One wave's at me and I return back the greeting. Jared approaches them and exchanges some words, before disappearing to the back. I take note of how the waitresses giggle amongst themselves when they’re alone.

Jared returns about fifteen minutes later carrying two plates. I think nothing of it until I realize he’s walking towards me. 

He stops, and I watch him quizzically as he sets one of the plates in front of me before sitting down to eat the second plate of pasta. 

“What are you doing?” is my automatic response. 

“I’m on my break.” He replies as if he doing nothing wrong. “I figured I would join you.” 

I could laugh but honestly couldn’t muster up enough energy to do so. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?”  

“Don’t you find this a slight bit unprofessional.”

“Possibly,” he answered. “You can make a complaint if you’d like.”

I looked to the waitress for help, but the only help they offered was their shocked expressions. 

“Something tells me that you wouldn’t care.” Steam floated up from the plate, carrying the scent of fresh sauce and cheese. My stomach melted, and just like that I had picked up her fork and dug into the meal. With my stomach empty, I cleared the plate quicker than I expected. I leaned back in satisfaction, not realizing how hungry I had been. 

“So how often do you wait for him?”  

I felt the food wanting to resurface. I swallowed a wave of nausea, and forced myself to speak, “That is none of your business.”

“Okay,” he says, still working his way through his pasta. “How about something simple, tell me about yourself?”

“Nothing to tell.” I retorted. 

“I find that hard to believe.”

I relent, “Just like everyone in America. I wake up, go to work, and do it all over again.” I said with exhaustion. “What about you?” I asked wanting to take the light off of me. 

He scratches his chin. “I’m in graduate school for music.” 

With new interest, my ears open up, ready for more. “What instrument do you play?”

“I play the guitar.” He answers with a smile. 

I imagine him strumming his fingers slowly against his guitar. The soft notes traveling into the air. He goes on to say that he teaches the guitar to school-aged children. 

I draw in a sharp breath. In shock at myself. Guilt automatically radiates through me. 

He notices.  

“Tell me about your fiancé.” 

I was well aware that I had not mentioned anything about my fiancé, but I could no longer hold back. I blinked back a wave of tears, then answered. “He was great… we met in my Sophomore year of college. At first, I turned him down because I wanted to focus on my classes, but he was so charming. I couldn’t help falling for him.” I smiled thinking about it. “We would come here for a date night once a month. We would share a plate of pasta because we were broke college students.” A laugh surprisingly escaped from my lips. “Of course we graduated and started our jobs. After that, he was so busy all the time.” 

I noticed him watching me intently, urging me to continue. “I would always wait an hour or so for him to show up, and I began getting used to it until.” The words almost die in my mouth. “Until he never showed up again.”

That day remained fresh in my mind as if it happened just yesterday. It had been like every other time I waited. However, hours later I would learn that a car accident robbed him of his life. It was now a year since his death, and despite him being gone, I still felt like he was going to walk right through those doors. 

Now here I was, in front of a handsome guy, and I felt like the most horrible person on the earth. 

“I’m so sorry.” He said, with sadness in his eyes. 

I nod silently before mustering up the courage to speak. “You knew, didn’t you? That’s why you sat here.” 

“Yes,” he confessed, then said, “I know what losing someone feels like. My mother died when I was seventeen.” I said nothing, unable to speak. So he continues. “I didn’t mean to be intrusive. I know I overstepped, and I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” I finally said, “and I’m sorry about your mother.”  

“Thanks.”  

We sit in silence then I said, “So what now?” 

“I don’t know.” He responds honestly. One of the workers approaches our tables. She looks at me first with an awkward smile, before focusing her attention on Jared, summoning him to get back to work. He looks at me apologetically, and I nod silently allowing him to go. Another hour or so goes by. After I’m informed that my dinner is on the house, I leave and head to the park across the street. The cool air, slightly nursed my emotions, but I was far from okay. 

Tears welled underneath my eyes as I realized this was the last time I was going to come here.  

Time seems to stand still as I sat alone with my thoughts. Soon, the sound of footsteps approaches me. I look up to see Jared. Strapped around his shoulder was a case, hiding nothing other than his guitar. 

“I was closing up when I saw you.” He informed her. "I am sorry if I overstepped earlier.” 

“You didn’t.” I said, “So do you carry that thing around everywhere?” 

He laughed nervously, “Yes, I know it’s a little obsessive.” 

“Not it’s not.” I smiled. “Do you want to play something?” 

“Sure.”