Rain 01 When It Rains (7 page)

When I deliver my first table their meals, I notice the guy in the blue shirt staring in my direction. This time he’s not smiling. Instead, his eyebrows are pulled down as if he’s studying me. Our eyes lock and all the chatter in the room seems louder as I stand frozen in the middle of the packed restaurant. I don’t know if it’s the expression on his face, or the fact that his eyes haven’t left mine, but I can’t make myself look away.

Someone runs into me from behind, sending me a couple steps forward and breaking the connection I’m having with the stranger. When I look back at him, his gaze is focused out the window. I don’t know what just happened between us, but I make my way back to the kitchen before he tries to look my way again. I have no idea why he’s having this effect on me.

At this point, I don’t even know if it’s good or bad.

When I leave work, I notice I have four text messages and two missed calls, all from Beau. Just seeing his name on my screen makes my heart skip as I work to blink the tears away so that I can read his messages.

Beau: How R U?

Beau: R U Working?

Beau: Please text me so I know you’re okay . . .

Beau: I miss you.

I miss Beau like crazy but knowing he’s thinking of me even when he’s five hours away gives me hope that maybe we can come away from this separation with our friendship intact.

He’s going to make new friends, I’m sure of that. He’s smart, funny, good-looking, and he’s not shy at all. I’m not going to let him spend every free second of his day worrying over me anymore. I just hope he doesn’t completely forget me.

I should try calling him back, but I can’t even think about him right now without crying. I don’t want him to worry, so I opt for a text instead.

Kate: I’m good. Just got off work.

I want to tell him I miss him too, but that would be an admission of the truth, and that isn’t something I’ve been very good at lately. And no matter how much I know he wants to hear me say it, I still can’t do it.

Truth is, I miss him so much more than I thought I ever would. He’s been my only reason to breathe, and even though he still is, it’s more difficult because he’s so far away. My phone beeps again.

Beau: I was worried about you.

Kate: Don’t worry. I’ll be ok.

I don’t want him to worry about me tomorrow when I don’t answer his texts or calls.
It’s not that I don’t want
to . . . I
just need to put some space between us right now. I know Beau, and if I let it go too long, he’ll get in his car and drive right back home just to check on me.

Beau: Call me tonight?

I desperately want to hear the smooth baritone in his voice.

Kate: Having dinner with Mom. Tomorrow?

Beau: Tomorrow then.

Beau’s not stupid. He knows my mom and I rarely have dinner together, but he doesn’t ask any questions.

I spend the remainder of my evening lying in bed, listening to Coldplay as I fixate my eyes on the ceiling. Maybe it’s the soothing sadness of the lyrics, or the sound of Chris Martin’s voice, but I can never get enough. I can’t stop thinking about what I could have had with Beau. What things would have been like if none of this ever happened to me. I wanted him for so long but didn’t think he felt the same way. Now, he wants me, and I can’t understand why. Why would anyone want the broken girl I’ve become? I wait for sleep to take over and put a temporary end to my thoughts.

The next morning I don’t want to go to work. I force myself out of bed and start the shower before grabbing a clean pair of jeans and a Bonnie’s t-shirt out of my closet.

When I step in the shower, I let the hot water fall over my face before turning and letting it heat my entire body. I focus on the scalding drops of water as they fall. It’s painfully hot, but keeps my mind off the internal pain that I’m rarely able to escape.

The first time I did it was the night Drew raped me. I felt fragile, furious and more than anything, I felt like a disgusting piece of garbage. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to clean away his scent or his touch from my body. The minute I walked in my front door, I went straight to the bathroom and turned the water to the hottest setting. At first it made me cringe, but the water made me feel clean and the heat dulled the pain in my heart as it burned my skin.

I haven’t been able to stop since.

My morning shift goes by quickly, dealing with many of the regulars. Ms. Carter comes in right as the breakfast crowd is clearing out and takes her usual seat in my section.

“Good morning, Katie girl. Isn’t it beautiful outside today?” she asks, glancing out the window. I rarely pay any attention to the weather . . . unless it’s raining. Those are my worst days.

I look ahead and see the bright blue sky and nod my head. “Yes, it’s nice outside today.”

“I can’t believe summer is almost over. Won’t be long until the snow is flying,” she says, looking back up at me.

“Are you having the usual today?”

“I’m too old to change now,” she laughs. That actually makes me smile. Her life seems so simple and she’s content with it.

I plate a warm cinnamon roll and pour Ms. Carter a cup of coffee and deliver it to her table. I’m feeling better than I did this morning, and I’m even considering going for a run after work, when my mom pops her head through the door.

“You have a new customer in your section,” she says with a huge grin on her face.

My mom’s not one for throwing out meaningless smiles, so the way she looks at me when she says it has me curious. I open the door to the dining room and stop dead in my tracks.

He’s come back.

The guy from lunch yesterday is sitting at one of the smaller tables in my section, watching me with raised eyebrows. My feet feel as if they weigh one-hundred pounds each.

I don’t know what it is about him that unnerves me, but the way he stares at me makes me feel like I should know who he is, or that maybe he knows who I am.

I swallow my restraint and move toward him, never taking my eyes off his. As I get closer, I notice they’re a unique light-greyish-blue shade that is only highlighted by the navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing.

I stop a little bit further back from the table than I usually would and take a deep breath, trying to erase the thoughts going through my head. “Can I get you something to drink?” I finally ask, grabbing for my notepad. I can remember just about anything, but I need something to keep my hands and eyes occupied.

“Good morning to you too,” he says, smiling and shaking his head at me. He leans back in his chair, letting one arm fall behind it so that his body is turned toward me.

I can’t take it anymore. “Do I know you?” I ask.

“Only if you count the little staring contest we had yesterday,” he replies, letting the corners of his mouth turn up a little more. “My name’s Asher Hunt.”

“And what are you doing here, Asher Hunt?” I feel a little bit of my snarky side take over where my nervousness once lay.

“Well, obviously, I’m hungry. And this is the only place that’s open in this town,” he says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. I notice a tattoo on the inside of his right arm, but I can’t see enough to make out what it is.

“I mean, what brings you to Carrington?” I tap my pen against the notebook, drawing his eyes down to it.

He shrugs. “I’m trying the small town life for a while. You know, figuring out if it really is the simpler way to live.”

For a moment, I just look at him, unsure of what to say to that. The truth is, no matter where you live, your life is full of complications. It’s not the environment that causes them; it’s the people around you, or those who are gone for that matter. But taking one look at his suddenly distant eyes, I know I don’t have to tell him that.

I clear my throat. “So what can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll take a chocolate shake and a glass of water, please,” he replies glancing out the window.

I don’t wait for him to look back up at me before heading back to the kitchen to make his shake. I take my time putting the milk and chocolate syrup in before pressing the button to mix. It’s so loud that I don’t hear my mom approach behind me.

“That guy’s kind of cute, don’t you think?” she asks, grabbing the ice cream and placing it back in the freezer.

I roll my eyes, grabbing a glass from the shelf to pour the shake into. My mom and I never talk about guys. The only guy I ever let myself think about is Beau. Sure, the guy is okay, but it means nothing to me.

“Hey, what are you girls gossiping about?” Diana asks. Diana is the other waitress that works most mornings.

“Did you see the guy who sat in Kate’s section? I saw him in here yesterday too. He’s kind of cute. Much better looking than most of the guys in this town,” my mom answers. She should know; she’s dated quite a few.

Diana peeks through the small window in the kitchen door before looking at my mom and shaking her head. “He’s bad news, Lynn. That’s Daniel McNally’s son, and I’ve heard the only reason he’s in Carrington is to escape some trouble he got into in Chicago.”

“But his last name is Hunt,” I say, filling a glass with ice for the water.

“That’s because his mom left town with him and got remarried shortly after he was born. McNally barely saw him after that,” Diana says, handing me two straws. “Just be careful.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not interested.”

I head out toward Asher again, placing his drinks on the table. He appears different from the smiley, cocky guy who sat here just a few minutes ago. His shoulders are drooped, and when he looks up I notice his eyes have lost some of their curiosity.

“Can I get you something to eat?” I ask, trying to avoid looking directly at him. My mom was onto something because he’s the first person in a long time who I’ve actually been a little intrigued by. I need to keep some distance, though, because at the end of the day, all I know is his name.

I blink, realizing that he’s been staring at me while I’m lost in thought. “I’ll just take an order of French fries,” he replies, twirling his straw around in his shake.

By the time his order is up, the place is packed for lunch, and I don’t have any more time to chat when I set his fries on the table. In fact, I don’t even have time to bring him his check. Diana does it for me because an entire table orders a round of milkshakes that I have to make. By the time I make it back out to the dining room, he’s gone.

I deliver my tray of drinks and head over to clean up Asher’s table, noticing that he left me a five dollar tip and a note on a napkin.

I stare at the door and take a deep breath, crumpling the napkin into a ball and shoving it into my pocket.