Page 9 of Grateful in Watch Hill
“Kendra?” Seth stepped closer to me. “Kendra Collins?”
“Well, I—”
“Take off your mask,” Seth demanded. “I want to see if it’s you.”
With a sigh, I complied. He’d already recognized me anyway. No hiding now. “It’s me. How are you doing, Seth?”
“Good.” He frowned and glanced at the other worker. “Tyler, do you mind giving us a moment?”
“Sure,” Tyler replied. He wavered. “Um... why don’t I go ahead and take care of cleaning up for tomorrow. We need to refill the sauces.” With a quick nod, he left us and went back to the kitchen to do what I guessed was basically a made-up task.
“Hi,” Seth said when we were alone again. He put the pizza order on the nearby counter. “I saw you texted me back, and I didn’t have time to reply yet.”
“That’s okay.” I studied him. “So... you work here?”
Seth nodded. “Kyle was kind enough to give me some work after I had to close The Frosted Heart.”
“I’m sorry about that. Had to be tough.”
“I got through it.”
“That’s kind of the mantra these days. Just get through it, as that’s the only way to really make it.”
“I keep telling myself that.”
“No matter what, things are getting better. Businesses are reopening, people are getting their shots...”
“I got mine a few weeks ago.” My shoulders relaxed a bit as I found myself easing into this conversation. We were a few moments in, and he hadn’t asked me why I was working as a driver for FoodSwap. Maybe he wouldn’t. God, I hope he won’t... “I was able to get it earlier since my dad had health problems and I'm his main caregiver.”
“Is that what brought you back to town?”
“Yes.” Not totally a lie. “Yes, it is.”
“I’m glad you got it. I’m sure you are breathing a bit easier.” He laughed. “Pun intended, I guess. You can always count on me for a stupid joke.”
“Yes, I can.”
“Well,”—he looked down at the boxes— “you really should get going. People are waiting on their food.”
“We don’t want it to get cold.” I took a quick step forward, scooped up the meal, put it into the insulated bag, and moved backward again, relieved at the distance between us. Back when Seth was running the nightclub and I was the hired help, we’d engaged in plenty of flirty, mindless conversations that never went anywhere despite the promises they held. But this was different. We’d hardly said a thing, and yet there was an unspoken heaviness all around us.
Blame the pandemic.
“I should get out there,” I added. “Goodnight.”
I took the order, turned, and rushed out of the pizzeria, thankful it was already late and the night should slow down soon. FoodSwap also gave delivery drivers the chance to refuse pickup at any partner establishment, so I resolved to make sure I avoided Watch Hill Pizza in the future. Making money didn’t have to include embarrassment. I could keep my dignity and my pride.
“Kendra? Can you wait?”
I turned around in the parking lot, just five or ten feet away from the driver’s side door. Seth rushed to catch up to me.
“You left so quickly.”
“I need to get this food out.”
“I know, but—”
“What?”
