Page 64 of Give & Take

Lana whacks me in the arm. Before she can pullaway, I gently trap her wrist, just for a moment. Her breath hitches.

Her skin is soft under mine. It’s hard to see in the dying light, but I think her pupils widened.

“Hey Lana?” I ask.

She still hasn’t pulled her hand away. So I stroke an arc over the soft inner flesh of her wrist with my thumb, pausing at her pulse.

“Yes?”

“You know we’re two grown adults, right?”

Her eyes widen then. She pulls her hand away, shoving it under her thigh. The swing has stilled. Crickets sound somewhere out in the night.

I’ve crossed a line again, but I’m pretty sure we’re past pretending it’s there anymore.

Lana looks forward, not at me. “I’m old enough to be your mother, Raphael.”

I click my tongue. “Technically, maybe. But you’d have been what. Fourteen? Fifteen? Would that have been you? A young teen mother? I can’t see it.”

Lana tugs at a stray string on her cutoff shorts. “My mom had me when she was sixteen.”

“And you?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “She gave me the talk early and often. She never let me forget how important it was that I do things differently.”

I study her profile, trying to picture her as a young girl. I can’t see it. I can only see her now.

“That must have felt shitty,” I say.

She glances over at me, her beautiful green eyes blinking softly as if no one’s ever said this to her. “Shenever made me feel unwanted. She’s been an incredible mother.” She smoothes out the string, white against her tawny skin. “But yeah, I essentially ruined her life. Her parents disowned her, at least for a decade, until her mom passed. She’d planned on becoming a lawyer. Ended up being a waitress. She never wanted that for me.” Lana laughs ruefully. “Now look at me.”

“Okay,” I say. I do then. I take in the way she’s got the perfect amount of life worked softly into her features. The little smile lines, stilled now. The freckle on her temple. A strand of hair has fallen over her eye, and I reach up and tuck it behind her ear, needing to see her with nothing in the way. I let my thumb glide against the soft shell of her ear before I pull away again, not missing how it makes her shiver almost imperceptibly. “You did it, though, didn’t you?” I say. “You did what she wanted and you knew it wasn’t for you. Isn’t that the way to do it? No regrets?”

She swallows. “I don’t, actually,” she says. “Regret it, I mean. I don’t think serving is going to be my life’s work, but it could be. I like being a server more than being a lawyer.”

Lana’s never talked like this to me before. I’m eating it up. I shift so I’m leaning my head on my hand, eyes on her. “What do you like about it?”

Lana considers. “I guess…for most people, going out to eat is like this little micro-treat. They don’t have to cook or clean up. They get to choose exactly what they want to eat. They can sit back and get their coffee refilled and for an hour, they get to just…take a break from the stresses of life.” A beat passes. “My mom…I used to watch her when I was a kid. She was like the star of the restaurant. Everyone was so happy to see her. She smiled and they smiled back and it was like…magic.”

I can’t help smile at that as I picture not her mom, but her, bestowing that elusive smile on her patrons. “I bet you make a great server.”

“See, now why would you think that, Raphael? I’m such a?—”

“Kind, genuine person?”

She’s suddenly serious. “I was going to say cold, aloof person. That’s all I’ve been to you.”

I shake my head. “Not true.”

“It is true.”

She runs a hand over her hair, the tawny brown locks slipping from her bun and unspooling onto her shoulders.

I brush a strand from her shoulder, making her shiver, her eyes looking down at where my thumb grazes her skin.

“Sorry,” I say, pulling away. “I really do want to stick to the rule you set out, Lana. You can tell me to fuck off right now. I’ll go.”

She looks at me again, working the corner of her lip with her teeth.

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