Page 73 of Gross Misconduct

“Girls, stop staring. Let Jack enjoy his meal in peace.”

“Dad’s friend Jack!” June yells across booths of older patrons. “Do you want to eat lunch with us?”

“Sit with us!” says Annabelle, emboldened by her completely filterless younger sister. The girls wave him over, their flailing, slim arms slicing through the air.

“Girls…” I try to regain control without reprimanding them.

They tip their heads back to our table, mouthing “Come on.” No man can resist that level of cuteness.

“Friends don’t let each other eat alone. In school, we’re supposed to include other kids.” June makes a fair point. I want to be a good example.

I join in waving him over. We share a bemused smile, both realizing that it’s best to do what they say.

The girls scream their delight as Jack stands up from his counter stool. My stomach flops into a puddle of awkwardness as Jack approaches. Because Caroline’s booths are older, it’s a tight squeeze. Annabelle moves onto my booth seat, and Jack takes the other side with June.

I thought I’d be safer not having him sit next to me. No touching or brushing of legs. Yet from this position, I’m able to stare straight into his vibrant eyes, making this just as awkward a seating choice.

“Hi! I’m June.”

“I’m Annabelle.”

“I’m Jack. Nice to meet you.” Jack holds out his hand to shake before realizing a hi-five is more appropriate.

The girls hi-five him back.

“Why were you eating alone? Where are your friends?” June asks him, no care about social pretense. I wish I could be like her sometimes.

I try to signal to Jack that he doesn’t need to answer any of their questions, yet he doesn’t look my way.

“I was having a rough day, and I needed a bowl of my favorite chicken noodle soup. It always makes me feel better.”

His answer catches me off guard. I want to ask him what’s wrong, who made his day rough for him, and what can I do to make it better, yet I smartly resist.

“Daddy’s ordering us chicken noodle soup, too!” June says. A minute ago she was adamantly against soup. I don’t argue.

“Good call.” Jack gives her a thumbs up.

“I like the noodles more than the chicken,” June says with a smile that splits her face.

“Same.” Jack nods in solidarity.

“I love putting a whole piece of bread in there and letting it get all soggy,” Annabelle says.

“You know what I like to do?” Jack leans in. “I take a bunch of crackers and put them at the bottom of the soup, and I cover them with the noodles. You don’t want a cracker that’s half-in and half-out of the soup, or only one side is in the soup. You take a bite, and you can’t tell whether it’s mushy or crunchy. Gross!”

June and Annabelle nod along as if they’re front row at a tent revivalist.

“Putting them firmly at the bottom of the soup is the scientifically proven best and fastest way for them to get nice and soggy. They mesh together to become one mass of mushy cracker.”

The girls’ heads spin with new ideas.

The waitress comes over to take our order. She doesn’t blink twice at Jack moving to sit with us. She’s on top of it.

“What are you girls going to have?”

“Chicken noodle soup. Extra crackers!” June says.

“I want chicken noodle soup and extra crackers, too,” Annabelle blurts out, worried that they’ll somehow run out.

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