Page 81 of Pity Play

Saying goodbye to my parents wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be. That’s probably because I know we’ll be seeing each other a lot more now. They promise that as soon as my dad is given the green light to go back to his regular schedule, they’ll come and visit me in Chicago. When I asked what they’d do with the diner, my dad said that he’d close it if he had to. He feels bad about all the overtime that Jim has been working, and he’s vowed to not lean on him so hard in the future.

As luck would have it, my car wouldn’t start this morning. I had it towed to the mechanic and learned that my alternator needed replacing, so I decided to leave it in Elk Lake for repair and take the train back to the city. My mom dropped me off at the station, but she couldn’t stay because she was going to take my place at the diner so Jim could take his dad to the doctor. The more I think about Jim, the more I realize he’s been my family’s guardian angel for as long as he’s known us.

Sitting in the depot, I look around at the faces. Even though I don’t know anyone here, they all look puzzlingly familiar to me. With their casual attire and placid expressions, no one seems to bein a great hurry. Yet, there’s an underscored sense of motion as they are either getting ready to go into Chicago or they’re waiting for someone who’s visiting. If Norman Rockwell were still alive, he could sit in this depot and create one masterpiece after another of small-town America.

The ride home goes particularly quickly because I fall into a dead sleep. I wake up as the train pulls into Union Station. Looking around, I have a sort of otherworldly sensation like maybe I was never gone and the last three weeks were nothing more than a dream.

Picking up my phone, I check my text messages and read the newest one from my mom.

Mom

Hi, Honey! I hope you had a nice trip home. Your dad and I already miss you so much and we can’t stop talking about coming to see you. Love, you, love you!!

So, it wasn’t a dream after all. I take a cab to my apartment in Marina City which is across the river from Capon. As much as everything feels familiar, I still have a sensation like I’m an outsider and not coming home myself.

I hold my breath as I put my key into my front door lock. It’s almost like I don’t know what to expect. But then I open the door and everything looks the same. I credit my hectic work schedule for the incredible lack of personal style in my surroundings. Instead of having lived here for four years, it looks like I’m renting a furnished apartment that I’ll only be in for a short time. After being at Lorelai’s house and then with my parents, I realize it’s time for me to make my apartment feel like a home. I just don’t know where to start.

After turning up the heat, I plop down on my couch and look out onto the Chicago River. It’s only three o’clock in the afternoon, but I feel like I want to go to bed for the night. I force myself to take a shower to wake up and then I change into my chef’s pantsand T-shirt before leaving the building and walking across the bridge to Capon. I’ve made this journey so many times I move like I’m on autopilot. Yet, there’s still a strangeness to it that I find disconcerting.

The first person I see as I walk inside is Eve. She’s standing at the hostess station talking on the phone. I overhear her say, “Yes, Mr. O’Neil. We have your table of twenty ready to go.” She pauses a beat before adding, “We’d be happy to make it for thirty.”

Hanging up the phone, my general manager stares at me with surprise in her eyes. “Luke! I didn’t know you were coming back today. Why didn’t you text and let me know?”

I walk over to her and offer her a quick hug. Eve is everything I used to think I was attracted to before our awkward attempt at dating. She’s very tall, slender to the point of being all sharp angles. She’s blonde and she’s elegant above all else. She is physically nothing like Lorelai.

Lorelai is slightly above average in height, with red hair, pale skin, and a full enough figure that she doesn’t look like she misses meals, let alone starve herself to achieve a feminine ideal. An ideal I realize I no longer find all that feminine. Lorelai is wholesome and real looking. To me, she’s perfect.

“I wanted to pop in and surprise everyone,” I tell her after pulling away.

“Worried we weren’t surviving without you, huh?” She laughs loudly. “Did you happen to hear that a party of twenty just increased to thirty? It’s been like that since you left. I swear, people are getting more social by the second.” She cocks her head to the side and stares at me questioningly. “You look different.”

“How so?” I ask.

Her eyes narrow like she’s dissecting me. “It’s hard to say. I mean, you still look like you, but the wrinkles around your eyes are less pronounced.”

“Wrinkles? I don’t have wrinkles. Laugh lines maybe…”

She scoffs. “You can call them laugh lines if you want, but I’m of a mind to call a spade a spade. As such, you have wrinkles.”She squints her eyes again, “But not as much as you used to. You look like you’ve been to a spa or something. Did you get Botox?”

“No, Eve, I did not get Botox.” I can’t believe she even asked that. “I’ve been sleeping more. Maybe that’s the secret.”

She takes my elbow and leads me over to the bar. “Sit down and tell me everything.” She settles on a stool next to me.

“It was really great being back in Wisconsin,” I tell her. “My dad and I talked a lot and we’re in a good place now.” I don’t bother to go into the whole story. It’s enough having lived it without rehashing it.

“How’s he feeling?”

“He’s on the mend,” I tell her. “Luckily, he didn’t do as much damage as he could have.”

Looking around at the restaurant fills me with a sense of pride and awe. Capon has forty-eight tables varying from two- to six-tops. We push tables together for larger parties. On a weekend night, we’ll turn the tables three times, sometimes four, depending on the lateness of the reservation.

“So, it’s been busy,” I say.

“Crazy busy. Seriously, Luke, if you ever wanted to expand, I think we could easily take double the reservations we currently do. I’ve been turning people away right and left.”

“That’s nice.”

Apparently, I don’t show the kind of excitement she’s expecting, because she asks, “Who are you and what have you done with Luke Phillips?”

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