Page 6 of 518 Hope Ave
Placing the notes under the bill, I set a salt shaker on top to weigh it all down then quickly make my way out of the diner. I take maybe five steps before I hear yelling behind me. I turn around and find Ezra running out of the diner, two fifty-dollar bills in hand.
"You-you've tipped too much," he says, panting.
"No, I didn't. I tipped exactly as I wanted," I say in reply.
He sighs and holds the money out to me. "It's too much. I can't accept this."
“Of course you can.” I cross my arms and shake my head, refusing to take the money back. "Listen, Ezra, it's just me living at my place. Heck, I don't even have an animal relying on me. So, I have something to spare, and you may not realize this, but I do understand what your life is like. And when I needed it, it made a difference knowing someone was there to help. Let me help you."
"I-I can't just accept a handout like this," he says, shaking the bills toward me.
"It’s not a handout. It’s a tip. You’re working your ass off alone in there, so you deserve it.
He lowers his hand but shakes his head. "It’s still too much.”
I step closer to him and place my hand on his upper arm. "You might not know this about me, but I lost both my parents too." His jaw slackens, and I lower my hand to my side while offering a small smile. "I was very young, so my grandmother raised me all on her own. We struggled. Sometimes, the only thing that kept us away from total poverty was the kindness of our neighbors," I say. "I'm just trying to be a good neighbor here, Ezra. I’m trying to pay it forward a little. Can you just accept the tip? Please?"
He stares at me a moment before nodding once and sliding the money into his pocket with a stuttered breath. "Well then, thank you...neighbor," he says, a rough edge to his soft voice. "And if you ever need help with something—a cup of sugar, even—just ask."
I beam at him and laugh lightly. "I will," I say as I reach out and take his hand without thinking, dropping it immediately when a bolt of electricity shoots through me on contact.Whoa.His eyes meet mine in alarm, and I step back.What was that?"You have a good night, Ezra."
He looks at his hand then back at me, looking as bewildered as I feel. "You too, Quinn."
6
Ezra
Ihaul the bag of laundry out of my trunk then glance across the road to the laundromat. Despite it being a Sunday, it doesn't seem to be too busy, and for that, I'm absolutely grateful. The last thing I want to do is fight for a machine when I’m dead on my feet. The plan is to plant my ass on a plastic seat and read a book about magic and creatures so I can pretend I’m in some other world for a while. I believe that’s what the folks in the know call ‘self-care’.
As I shove my way through the squeaky-hinged door, a curious tingling sensation erupts from within me. I look up to see Quinn—the woman who’s been dancing naked through my mind more and more often these days—reading a book by one of the machines. She’s been working in the front office at the school for a couple of years now, and she’s a regular at the diner, so I see her more often than not. Other than thinking she’s beautiful to look at, I also have a thing for her cheery disposition. No matter what is happening in the day, she always has a smile on her face. When I look at her, some of that darkness weighing down my insides brightens. She may not realize it, but that smile of hers has saved me more times than I can count. It might seem creepy, but I search her out whenever I’m in town just to look at her for a moment. I live for her happiness.
Quinn looks up from her book, and lo and behold, she smiles at me. My heart leaps and I give her a small smile and a nod back. Outwardly, I feel so incredibly awkward. I’m tall, and I’m lanky, and I feel like I’m still in that uncoordinated teenage phase even though I’m a twenty-two-year-old man now.
“Don’t see you in here much,” she says, closing her book around her thumb and setting it in her hap. She’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt that has a picture of two bees dressed as ghosts and the caption ‘boo-bies’. I look away fast, not sure if it’s appropriate for me to laugh or if that’ll just make her uncomfortable that I’m now thinking about her tits.Cool it, kid.
“Machine died,” I explain, dumping the bag inside a wire sorting basket and wheeling it to a free machine.
“That’s gotta suck. My apartment doesn’t have a laundry, so I’m here weekly. Gives me time to catch up on some reading.” She lifts her book in illustration.
“That was my plan too.”
“Oh yeah? What are you reading?”
The easy way she talks to people is another thing I admire about her. Even at school everyone always liked her. She was one of the few seniors who would stop and have a conversation with absolutely anyone. She wasn’t super popular like the cheerleaders and jocks were, but she was always surrounded by people, always helping people. She was as beautiful then as she is now. Always with that sweet smile and an air of kindness.
As confronted as I felt the other night after that hundred-dollar tip, I was also so incredibly grateful. She doesn't really know it, but that tip was the difference between having spaghetti and red sauce for dinner this week or living off ramen until my next paycheck came through.
“Crooked Kingdom,” I say, digging in my backpack for the well-worn book I found in the for-sale bin at the local library for a buck. “Book two of a high fantasy trilogy.”
“So, it has magic and stuff?”
I laugh. “Sure does. I like reading about things that couldn’t possibly happen in this world. Feels more like a holiday.”
“Oh, I hear you there. What’s that quote? ‘Reading gives you somewhere to go when you have to stay at home.’ It’s something like that.” She waves her hand in the air dismissively. “But it rings true. Books were my salvation as a kid. Once a month, Nanna would take me into Syn City so we could trawl through the old used bookstore there. I found some wonderful stories that I still cherish to this day.” She hugs her book to her chest and sighs like a girl in love.
A barrage of sensations and feelings hit me like a truck, and a dumbstruck smile curves my mouth. “I think I’d like to visit that shop someday.”
"I could take you if you like,” she says quickly before shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I’m being pushy. You probably wouldn’t even have the time for such a thing. Forget I asked.”
