your dad get off okay?”
“Yes. He wanted me to tell you that he made me promise not to give you a reason to kick me out.”
“Oh my god.”
“My family struggles with having faith in me.”
“You’re the youngest. They get babied.”
“Rosalind and I have less than a year between us and I’ve always been responsible. Mom used to call me a mini-adult. There’s no reason to expect—”
“Deep down, I’m sure they know that. They just worry. It’s what parents do.”
“Did yours?”
“I’m an only child, and they’re divorced. My dad sends Christmas and birthday presents. Mom and I talk around once a month, sometimes more. She has a boyfriend that keeps her occupied.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mean to make it sound like a sob story. It’s not. Just how things are now.”
“You said before you get lonely. Is that why?”
Ooo, going deep now. “Maybe. Sometimes. I’m independent, always have been, so I don’t need much. Ros didn’t used to travel as often, so… But now you’re here.”
“I am.”
“It’s nice, you know, to not always have an empty house.”
“I’ve gotten used to you, as well.”
“’Used to’? You make me sound like some kind of growth you can’t cut off.”
His eyes widened. “No! That’s not what I meant! I—”
“I’m teasing, Patrick.”
“Oh.” He opened the fridge and stared into it. “You do that a lot.”
“Does it bother you?”
“No. You’re not mean about it.”
“I never would be.”
“I know. I never saw that at school. Rosalind…but you never bullied anyone.” He closed the refrigerator. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“I don’t want to cook.”
“Okay. I know a place.”
I took him to the diner Matt introduced me to. We could use some rib-sticking food after today’s manual labor. Thankfully, no Matt. That might be awkward.
“This is where you got the cake from,” Patrick said.
His memory still astonished me sometimes. “Yeah. That was over a week ago.”
He shrugged. “Good cake.”
“You know… This is the first time we’ve sat down in a restaurant for a meal.”
He nodded. “I think you’re right. And I’m officially moved into my room.”
“We might need two pieces of cake.”
He laughed. A waitress came by with menus and tripped over her feet. Yeah, he had that affect on a girl.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked him.
“Jess, what will you have?”
“Coke for me, please,” I said a little too loud. Yeah, he’s hot, but it’s no excuse for ignoring me.
“A Coke for the lady and I’ll have water, thank you,” Patrick said.
The waitress walked off with a pout. He’d barely glanced at her. He rarely made eye contact with strangers, though. “I think she likes you,” I said.
“Who?”
“You are so oblivious.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The waitress making goo-goo eyes at you.”
“Very funny.” His nose was still in the menu.
“I’m serious! You’re a good-looking guy and women are going to notice, including that one.”
“I’m not interested in a waitress.”
“Because of her job? How snobbish of you.”
“What? No. Of course not. Don’t be silly, Jess.”
“Then what does interest you?”
“Programming language, books, cooking, you already know these things.”
I nudged his foot. “Not what I was asking about and you know it.”
An eye-roll. “If I was looking, it’d be the inside that mattered. Intelligence, similar values, kindness…”
“You really don’t have a visual type.” Every guy had a type.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Come on…”
The waitress came back. “Ready to order?”
“Yes.” “No.”
I glared at Patrick. That girl had the worst timing! I ordered the same as last time. He looked to be skimming the whole menu again. “Ricky, pick something. I’m sure this girl has other customers to help.”
He finally
“Yes. He wanted me to tell you that he made me promise not to give you a reason to kick me out.”
“Oh my god.”
“My family struggles with having faith in me.”
“You’re the youngest. They get babied.”
“Rosalind and I have less than a year between us and I’ve always been responsible. Mom used to call me a mini-adult. There’s no reason to expect—”
“Deep down, I’m sure they know that. They just worry. It’s what parents do.”
“Did yours?”
“I’m an only child, and they’re divorced. My dad sends Christmas and birthday presents. Mom and I talk around once a month, sometimes more. She has a boyfriend that keeps her occupied.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mean to make it sound like a sob story. It’s not. Just how things are now.”
“You said before you get lonely. Is that why?”
Ooo, going deep now. “Maybe. Sometimes. I’m independent, always have been, so I don’t need much. Ros didn’t used to travel as often, so… But now you’re here.”
“I am.”
“It’s nice, you know, to not always have an empty house.”
“I’ve gotten used to you, as well.”
“’Used to’? You make me sound like some kind of growth you can’t cut off.”
His eyes widened. “No! That’s not what I meant! I—”
“I’m teasing, Patrick.”
“Oh.” He opened the fridge and stared into it. “You do that a lot.”
“Does it bother you?”
“No. You’re not mean about it.”
“I never would be.”
“I know. I never saw that at school. Rosalind…but you never bullied anyone.” He closed the refrigerator. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“I don’t want to cook.”
“Okay. I know a place.”
I took him to the diner Matt introduced me to. We could use some rib-sticking food after today’s manual labor. Thankfully, no Matt. That might be awkward.
“This is where you got the cake from,” Patrick said.
His memory still astonished me sometimes. “Yeah. That was over a week ago.”
He shrugged. “Good cake.”
“You know… This is the first time we’ve sat down in a restaurant for a meal.”
He nodded. “I think you’re right. And I’m officially moved into my room.”
“We might need two pieces of cake.”
He laughed. A waitress came by with menus and tripped over her feet. Yeah, he had that affect on a girl.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked him.
“Jess, what will you have?”
“Coke for me, please,” I said a little too loud. Yeah, he’s hot, but it’s no excuse for ignoring me.
“A Coke for the lady and I’ll have water, thank you,” Patrick said.
The waitress walked off with a pout. He’d barely glanced at her. He rarely made eye contact with strangers, though. “I think she likes you,” I said.
“Who?”
“You are so oblivious.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The waitress making goo-goo eyes at you.”
“Very funny.” His nose was still in the menu.
“I’m serious! You’re a good-looking guy and women are going to notice, including that one.”
“I’m not interested in a waitress.”
“Because of her job? How snobbish of you.”
“What? No. Of course not. Don’t be silly, Jess.”
“Then what does interest you?”
“Programming language, books, cooking, you already know these things.”
I nudged his foot. “Not what I was asking about and you know it.”
An eye-roll. “If I was looking, it’d be the inside that mattered. Intelligence, similar values, kindness…”
“You really don’t have a visual type.” Every guy had a type.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Come on…”
The waitress came back. “Ready to order?”
“Yes.” “No.”
I glared at Patrick. That girl had the worst timing! I ordered the same as last time. He looked to be skimming the whole menu again. “Ricky, pick something. I’m sure this girl has other customers to help.”
He finally
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