Page 35 of Christmas Crisis
The younger server motioned to the other woman that she’d take care of us. “Would you like some coffee while you’re deciding?” she asked.
“Decaf for me,” Miranda replied. “Cream and sugar, please.”
“I’ll take the hard stuff,” I said.
The server’s cheek stuck out, like she was pushing her tongue against the inside. Her hands fiddled with the short apron she wore, and I caught the outline of her phone in the pocket.
She left to grab the coffee, and when she returned, she lingered after taking our orders for pancakes and bacon. Rocking back on her heels, she gave the impression of wanting to say something else before abandoning the notion and walking away. Less than a minute later, I clocked her balancing a dish towel-covered phone on the counter.
“Not very subtle, is she?” Miranda guffawed.
“No. Maybe we should turn and smile and get it over with.”
“Let her have it. We’ll leave a big tip and maybe she’ll post about that.”
When the server brought our food ten minutes later, she’d reached the limit of her restraint. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she said. “I just watched a video about you and Stone this morning.”
Miranda smiled widely. “We were wondering if maybe you recognized us but didn’t want to presume. Hopefully, whatever you watched was positive.”
“Oh, it was. One of my favorite creators. It’s stupid, you know, how so many people jump to conclusions. Of course men and women can be just friends. You and Stone, I mean.”
I winked at Miranda. “Men and women can definitely be just friends.”
“I’m Neveah, by the way,” the server said.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied. “Are you new? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“This is my third week. Dorothy mentioned you’re a regular,” Neveah said, gesturing to the middle-aged server. “But she had no clue you two were internet famous. When I told her, she laughed and said you’re friendly. She also said you’d be okay if I mentioned that I knew who you were.”
I leaned out and tipped my mug at Dorothy, who gave a little wave in return. “Perfectly fine. But for the record, my girlfriend and I aren’t famous, or maybe Miranda is a little. Stone and Naomi are the famous ones. We’re just randos waiting for all this to die down.”
“That’s why I flew up from Los Angeles,” Miranda interjected. “Leo and I usually do the long-distance thing, but I wasn’t going to face all this while we were apart.”
Neveah seemed to consider her words. “It must suck to have everyone talking about you when you’re just trying to be a regular person.”
“True,” Miranda agreed. “I’ll probably stop doing my Instagram account after this, too, since my identity has been exposed.”
“Well, you’re cool to eat your pancakes in peace,” Neveah said. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you’re nice… Also, don’t listen to the trolls. There’s nothing wrong with two blonds dating each other.”
With that, she turned her attention to another table.
“I’m getting a very real urge to dye my hair,” I said dryly.
“Don’t do it, Bear. Don’t let the haters win.” She shook her fist in the air like a gladiator.
“Are you really going to stop doing your Instagram?”
“You say that like it’s a surprise when you know I’ve been looking for an out. It’s no longer a brand experiment if people know it’s me. If there’s a silver lining to this situation, it’s that it gives me the perfect excuse to sunset the account.”
“She was fun while she lasted.”
“She’s still fun. Just slightly less adventurous.”
Later that night, after going to the movies and walking the lake loop at a local park, Miranda opened up her feed to see a trending post. Neveah had put up the pictures she took of us eating—which turned out surprisingly well, considering the dish towel subterfuge—along with a caption talking about how friendly and “in love” we were.
“You really have executed the plan beautifully,” I said, kissing her head. “Cluing Neveah into your thought process on flying up here so we could endure this terrible internet injustice together was a nice touch.”
“Thank you. I’m glad she mentioned that part in her caption. Does our work for us.”
