Chapter Fifteen: Little Fred's
Lunch began as I agreed to a get-together with Errik. I'm in a long-sleeved shirt with a hoodie to keep me warm and jeans. I also put my hair up in a messy bun, just for the heck of it. It isn’t like I need to impress anyone here.
I reach the restaurant named Little Fred's and step in. I didn't pick the place, Errik did, and sadly, I really don't want to be here because Periwinkle owns the restaurant and I haven't talked to her and or the others in four days.
The door that leads inside the restaurant with the host, opens, revealing Errik in a handsome suit and tie. He doesn't say anything, all he does is smiles and escorts me to our table. I sit down first and he pushes my chair in then goes to the other side to seat himself. A bottle of wine is already on the table with menus.
A waiter comes and pours our glasses with red wine. When he leaves, I look around to the beautiful scenery. Each table has a white cloth on it with candles in the middle and a red rose. There's a small water fountain in the middle of the restaurant and a Greek statue stands in the middle. The walls are painted white and the carpet is a dark brown color, the foyer with the fountain is plain, white tiles.
"You look . . . uh . . . pretty?" Errik looks me up and down.
I smile and say, "This is lunch, not dinner. I don't understand why we have to go to a fancy place just for lunch." I raise my eyebrows. Besides it isn't a date, so why would I get all dressed up? This is so we can get to know each other, not to kiss or what not. I think it's best for me to do this, to get Kenton out of my mind for a while.
After we order our food, he starts a new subject. "So, how are ya?" He claps his palms together and takes a deep breath, slightly smiling.
I don't know how to respond. I'm not okay, but how can I tell a stranger that? How can I look at him and say that I'm not okay and my life is in ruins? It's something that should be hidden from a stranger until I can verify that we are close enough that I can tell him. But what do I say?
"I'm good," I lie, scrunching up my nose and giving him a smirk. I hope it worked, that the fake smile and lie held in place. "What about you?" I ask, placing my knuckles underneath my chin.
His face goes sour and I can tell by it that he doesn't want that question to be answered. But why? I didn't want to answer his question yet I did, but I lied to him. I wonder why he would ask something that he knows that it will go vise-versa to him. Does he assume that I won't ask how he is? What is going through his mind when I ask him it?
Finally, his lips purses and nods. "I'm doing all right but at least I'm living."
It's quiet for a few moments until I ask another question. "So, are you stalking me?"
He smiles and shakes his head. "No." He laughs. "Wherever I am you are."
"Don't you mean 'wherever I'm at, you seem to follow me'?" I smile, trying my best to act like I'm having a good time and that nothing is wrong. Though, I don't want to think about life for a moment, I want to be here and have a connection between Errik and myself. No more thoughts about depression, about alcohol, about my mother, about my somewhat friends, about my father, about Kenton.
"I don't stalk people; I'm not that guy. It's . . ." He shakes his head, looking at the table. "It's . . ." Finally he looks to me. "As if fate brought us together." He smiles.
Fate? Why the hell would fate bring us together? We're both strangers. It isn't like we're going to be together like what "fate" thinks, if fate is real.
"So, let's start by introducing ourselves?" I begin a new subject.
He nods in agreement and looks as if he's pondering a question to inquire. "What is yer occupation?" He glares at me with a curious expression upon his face.
"I'm a journalist for the City Times," I say, now feeling a bit more comfortable than what I started with this afternoon. I raise my eyebrows for him to tell me what his business matter is.
"Well, that tops what I do." He chuckles, clearing his throat to continue. "I'm a chef and owner of a restaurant called Shaulls," he answers.
"What do you mean that doesn't top what I do? Being an owner of a restaurant and its chef is awesome!" I say with enthusiasm, enjoying our meeting.
He blushes. "Thank you." He laughs. "So . . . favorite colors?" He bends his head downwards so I can’t see him smiling.
I smile. "Originally, I love all colors. The rainbow and more, but my top three will have to be red, blue, and black."
He looks up. "I like orange,” he says.
I snort.
"What?" He chuckles.
"Why do you like orange?" I smile with a confused facial expression.
"Why do you not like orange?" His hands gesture each side of him, kind of like I asked a question and he doesn't know the answer.
"Everything. It's an odd color and it doesn't rhyme with anything," I say.
"Really? It rhymes with . . . flor . . . ange." As he says it, his eyes blinks while looking puzzled, but then he raises his eyebrows after his comment.
"Florange? That isn't even a word." I laugh.
"It is too, it's a flower that is orange." He shrugs.
"A flower that is orange," I repeat. "Yes, I think that is what something that isn't a word means." I shake my head and roll my eyes. "Do you have a favorite animal?"
"Oh, I love pandas, they are so adorable. What about ya?" He tilts his head to the side.
"I'm a wolf lover, wolves all the way." I bob my head like I'm dancing to music and I smirk.
"Have any pets? I have dog named Inkspot, she's––"
He gets cut off by a server who gives us our food.
"No, I don't have any pets. I would have a cat, but I'm highly allergic." I take a bite from my sandwich.
"Oh, wow. I'm allergic to cats too." It's very interesting that we have things in common, and that it's all going swell. I'm ecstatic that I haven't ran out the door yet, that I'm not sad anymore. It's like Errik is the one that's keeping me from crying or thinking deeply into too much thoughts. Being here with him, it's like I'm here with Kenton.
Kenton.
I glance down and ponder, my life flashing behind my eyes and all the dreams I had before with him inside them. I try my best not to cry.
"Excuse me, may I have a word with Raven for a quick moment?" I hear a familiar voice.
Both Errik and I look at each other. I nod. "Okay, I'll be right back." I hold up my finger to Errik and walk behind Periwinkle who leads me to the bathroom.
When the door closes, she turns to face me with an annoyed look. "Why the hell are you here and with some random guy? Is he one of your dates that is from the dating service?" I wonder why she is all angry with me. I guess it's something I've been pondering for a while. Something I shouldn't be surprised over. After all, our friendship is gone, I guess.
I lean against the brown counter and cross my arms, my eyes scan the marble tiles on the ground. "It isn't a date, it's like . . ." Sighing, I just roll my eyes. "I met Errik a few days ago and Lauren advised me to get to know him better so that it's a step toward recovery."
"So he met Lauren?"
"No, he hasn't. He drove me home from the park and Lauren saw him in my window, I guess." I shake my head, shrugging. Why am I being so easy on her? Shouldn't I be punching her in the face for isolating me?
"Is she staying in your house?" She leans her hip against the sink and folds her arms.
"No she isn't, she was just visiting me. Actually, I don't know where she lives," I say with a tone in my voice. Ever since our fight, I haven't really thought to apologize to her since I hadn't had any reason to. She and the others were being complete assholes to me, so why should I just say the word first?
It's silent for a moment, until the door opens to reveal a woman with blonde hair, blue jeans with thick boots upon her feet, and a red sweater. She washes her hands quickly and applies more eyeliner and lipstick to herself and leaves.
"Can we just get past the fights in our relationship, please? I hate staying mad at you."
I think for a moment; should we? Ever since Kenton's death, we've all—meaning, Periwinkle and Jessie and Freddy—haven't seen eye to eye on everything and been at each other's throats.
I nod. She hugs me and I smile. "Look, it's just been really hard on me about Kenton and all of that, just a tough time, you know?"
"I know sweetie." She gives me a sympathetic smile. "Now go out there and show that man that you're a beautiful, confident woman." She spins me around and pushes me to the door.
I stop and turn to her. "It isn't a date, Peri."
"Sure it isn't." She rolls her eyes. "Will you just go," she says, shaking her head. I can't believe how fast Periwinkle became nice to me: first she's all mean and nasty and now she's just completely nice. It's weird to have a bipolar friend, I think.
I open the door and go back to the table, a smile plastered on my face. My mind wanders through the journey of tomorrows, wondering what it'll bring me, since my birthday is tomorrow after all.
"Welcome back, so who was that?" I sit down in my chair and sigh.
"That was my friend, Periwinkle. She owns this restaurant and she just wanted to know what I was up to." I roll my eyes.
"Oh, so anyways, are ya doing anything tomorrow?" He takes a sip of his wine.
"Actually, I am. It's my birthday." I blush.
"Oh, happy almost birthday. How old are ya gonna be? Forty?" He chuckles with raised eyebrows.
"I'm going to be twenty-four. But close enough." I laugh as my cheeks burn. I do think it is nice that I'm not feeling the way I did when we met the first time, which was nervousness.
"Congratulations." He smiles.
*~*~*~*~*
After lunch, I get in the car and drive. I don't know where, but I just keep driving. I'm actually curious to know where my mother is staying. I pick up my phone and quickly dial her number. The phone rings on the other end and she answers, "Hello, Raven.”
"Hello, I was just wondering where you're staying."
"Oh, I'm actually living in Hoboken, New Jersey." She sounds like she's tired but also sad, but I don't know why she would be depressed.
I look at the signs where one says the town is about a few miles away. "Okay, what address?"