A large circular tray was packed with four dishes. There was rib eye steak cooked medium rare with a baked potato, sour cream, and chives. Next there was a creamy tortellini pasta with seasoned shrimp and herbs. The third dish was a salmon steak drizzled in rémoulade with a side of rice pilaf and broccoli covered in American cheese. And finally a filet mignon, asparagus, and a lobster tail with a container of melted butter. The aroma was amazing. And suddenly every dish was flying through the air and smashed onto the floor in a tremendous clatter.
"Fuck was that our food?" said a young man with bright green dyed hair.
"I'm so sorry," said the waitress who had dropped the food. "I'm always spilling things," she frowned. She knelt down, picking up the fragments of dishes and food then putting the mess onto her platter. She looked as if she was right out of college with a wiry frame and straight brown hair tied back in a large bun on top of her head.
A man in a suit and tie rushed next to her, and started helping clean up. He looked to be in his mid to late thirties with his light brown hair cut in a stylish fade with medium length on top. He was average in appearance with a five-o-clock shadow and a cleft chin.
"I'll go speak to the cook to get your order remade, alright?" he said in a baritone voice.
"We've been waiting an hour already," said the bright haired man.
"Let's just go," said the other patron in an annoyed tone of voice.
"I'm sorry. I could offer you a gift certificate," the besuited man said apologetically.
"No way. Not like I'd come back to this dump. But I will enjoy shredding your restaurant online," he chortled and walked away.
"Sorry Matt," the young server said with a contrite expression.
"It's alright Emma. Why don't you check on the next table's order, I'll clean this up."
"Ok. I'll do better next time," she said with a smile as she stood up.
A good looking young man with a server's apron walked over and bent down next to Matt.
"That's the second time this week boss," he said softly. "When are you going to fire her?"
"Joe you shouldn't talk that way about a coworker. If you have a complaint, let's go to the back office-"
"Man up. She's a disaster and you know it."
"Joe, Joe. If you want, after the rush we can talk. I want to make sure our team is strong. We need to work together if we're going to succeed."
"Fuck that. She's creating more work for me. If you don't get rid of her by the end of the week, I'm gone," he threatened. "Oh and by the way your girlfriend is here." He stood.
"Could you tell her I'm busy?"
"Tell her yourself," he retorted as he walked away.
Matthew sighed. He cleared the mess and then walked to the entrance of the restaurant.
There were several people waiting on entryway chairs and an obese woman standing in the middle with a frown. She wore a black blouse and leather jacket with acid washed jeans. She had brown pixie cut hair, green eyes, high cheekbones and a pointed nose.
"Hey babe, what is it?" he asked with exasperation.
"Here," she said flatly, holding out a piece of paper.
Matthew took the paper and opened it. It was written in her handwriting.
Matthew-
I hate that you're making me do it this way, but you're always "too busy" to listen. Yes this is a break up letter.
There was more to the note, but he looked up when he got to the word "breakup". She was leaving without saying another word. He rushed to the door.
"Matt, where are you going?" The male server yelled at him. Matt paused briefly, looking back at the busy interior and then rushed after her.
"Laura, Laura wait," he said, as she entered her car. She started it and pulled back. He stood in front of the vehicle, blocking her egress. She rolled down the window.
"Move it!"
"Let's talk."
"I've wanted to talk before, but you're always too busy."
"I'm sorry, I-"
"No you're too late. Now move!" she said, driving forward slowly.
"Please, I love you," he said.
"That's not enough anymore," she said angrily.
"Laura I can't, the-"
"I'm done."
"Laura, can we talk about this tonight?" he said with exasperation.
"No! Move it asshole!" the car started rolling forward, pressing into him.
He moved out of the way and watched as she drove past and out of the parking lot. He stood there for nearly half a minute staring at the busy street and while tears ran down his cheeks. When he finally entered the restaurant, he noticed Joe was on the phone.
"Yeah he's back, yeah sure," Joe said, holding out the phone with a shit-eating grin.
"Hello? Mr. Martinez. Yes sir, sorry my girlf- Yes sir. No sir. Sorry sir. Yes sir. Goodbye."
The proprietor was very angry. Matt and his girlfriend had several fights at the restaurant that had affected his work. He already had warnings from before. Although he had poured so much work into the restaurant, it was all over now. He shoved Laura's note into his pocket and went through the motions of his job as best as he could. After finishing his shift, he got into his small car and started to drive towards his mother's house.
It was about ten thirty that night when he arrived at his mother's trailer home. Matt knocked on the door loudly, hearing the television blaring. He expected she had fallen asleep in her chair in front of the television and he didn't want to startle her when he came in. He unlocked the door and walked in, but she wasn't in the living room. He went to her room-
"Oh god!" he cried.
* *
The doctor turned on the light box and illuminated an X-ray of a skull.
"Your mother is very lucky, mister Fischer. Most her age break bones when they fall down, but she sustained practically no injuries except for a bruise. Still it's important that she takes it easy the next few days. Does she live on her own?"
"Yes."
"Her x-ray may be clean, but the fall could have caused her some muscle strain. Keep an eye on her the next couple days."
"I work ten hour-" Matt paused suddenly.
"Is everything alright?
"Sorry, I. Nevermind that won't be a problem." He said sheepishly, remembering he had just lost his job.
"I see she's taking diabetes medication. I'm worried the diabetes might have inadvertently caused the fall. Have you noticed her hands shaking?"
"No."
"She has a weekly pill organizer?"
"A what?"
"Go to the pharmacy and get her one. There is a compartment for each day. Put her daily pills in each box and tell her to take the pills in the morning with her breakfast."
"Ok."
"Do you have any questions?"
Matt's mind went blank.
"Mr. Fischer, do you have any questions?"
"No."
"You don't look too good either. Have you been getting much sleep?"
"No."
"Take care of yourself son. Your mother needs you."
* * *
Matt entered the coffee shop, dressed casually and looking at his watch in the late morning light. He looked around the room nervously as he caught a glimpse of someone who looked familiar. But when he approached, he didn't recognize them. He looked around again and saw a woman with long black hair waving at him. He smiled and approached the booth. An angular looking white woman sat next to her.
"Hello Hannah," he said confidently to the raven-haired woman.
"Oh Matt," she said warmly, standing.
"Sorry I'm late," he said.
"No problem, we just got here." She leaned in and gave him a hug. When the woman next to her stood up, he briefly looked her over. Her brown hair was pushed back behind her ears and she wore a long sleeve mustard yellow blouse with tan slacks. She looked anxiously at him.
When Matt pulled back he smiled, taking in Hannah's appearance. She was short with long black hair, a round face, small dark brown eyes and bronze-colored skin. She wore a cropped white blouse under an olive colored sports jacket with matching high-rise pants.
"This is Alexandra," she said, indicating the woman next to her. "But we all just call her Alex."
"I figured, good to meet you," he said, holding out his hand.
She shook it gently.
"So how are you?" Hannah asked as they all sat down.
"I'm ok," he said somberly. "Thank you for inviting me. I needed to get out."
"No problem, it's been a long time."
"Yeah, not since Covid." He looked down at the empty table. "Have you ordered yet?"
"Felix, large decaf mocha!" one of the baristas announced.
