Sparks by Yolanda Olson
I sentLuke to his room for the remainder of the day, but that still didn’t feel like enough distance between us, so I decided to go out for a walk.
Maybe this will keep me from wanting to throttle him, I think as I make my way back down toward the beach.
I’m not looking to do anything in particular, I just want to get my mind off of how defiant he’s suddenly become. Good children aren’t defiant; they listen to their mother and they do as their told, yet he feels that because he caught me in a moment of weakness—of self-pleasure, that he no longer has to see me as his mother.
Bullshit; I’ll beat him before he treats me any differently than he did when I was still some kind of sanctimonious idol in his eyes.
I decide to go back to the diner we had went to the previous night. If I can find our waitress, maybe I can talk her into going out on a date with him. Hopefully that’ll shake some sense into him, but knowing Luke, this is a dead horse before it’s even been beat.
I walk up the small wooden walkway and wait patiently by the front booth for someone to notice me. The hostess is the same one from last night and she smiles brightly when she sees me.
“Just one?” she asks cheerfully.
“One is more than enough right now,” I reply with a chuckle. She gives me a nod and tells me to follow her, sitting me at a table in the middle of the restaurant. Once she’s sat the menu down in front of me, she walks away after telling me that my server will be with me soon.
I decide on a Coke and maybe a small salad since I’m not too hungry right now. I sigh heavily as I lean back in my chair and glance around the place. There are only two other families in here and just me.
It makes me feel like shit to see happy parents and their children. I always wonder how much differently he could have turned out had his father maybe showed up once in a while to take him out to do some male bonding. Instead he’s stuck with me—a whore that can’t keep her hands off of herself and apparently forgets to lock her fucking door when she gets the urge.
I wish I had someone in my life that could take care of my impulses as they come, but most of all, I wish I had someone in my life that could be a father figure for Luke. He deserves it—no matter how angry he made me last night, he’s a good boy and I know even though he didn’t want to show it, what he saw bothered him.
The server isn’t the same one as the night before. She’s not as pretty as her either, but I think I’ll still see if she wants to meet my boy when I’m done and maybe take his mind off of things.
I smile up at her as she places my drink and salad down, shaking my head when she asks me if I need anything else at the moment. I pull the straw out of the paper wrapping and stick in into the carbonated drink before picking up my fork and stabbing a few leaves of lettuce, some tomato slices, and cheese strips.
“I can’t believe it.”
I almost choke on my food.
I didn’t know that anyone had approached me and the sudden sound of someone standing so close startles me. With a laugh, I reach for my napkin to wipe my face before I glance up at the person that scared me almost shitless then feel my mouth run dry.
“Oh my God. It is you,” he says, taking in a breath.
My lower lip begins to tremble slightly, and I have to turn my eyes away from him.
“How have you been?” he asks in disbelief as he pulls out the chair next to me and sits down.
It’s almost as if I’m looking into a mirror of my son. True the years are much higher in this reflection, but they look enough alike to assure anyone who his father is.
“Hi,” I reply quietly, dropping the napkin next to my plate. A wave of nausea takes over me, followed by guilt. Had I not grounded my son he would be here with me and he would finally know the man that gave him half of his life.
Selfish cow.
The edges of his eyes crinkle kindly when he finally smiles at me. “I think we’re past ‘hellos’, don’t you?”
I clear my throat and glance around the establishment again. Is he here with his family too? Or is he just another absentee parent like me trying to get away from an impending sense of doom?
“Are you alone?” I ask him, my voice cracking slightly.
“Yeah. The wife and kids are at home,” he says, running his hand back through his hair.
Just like Luke.
“Congrats,” I reply bitterly, rolling my eyes and picking up my fork again.
“I … I never stopped thinking about you, you know?” he says softly.
I glance at him and raise an eyebrow. “You should probably have spent your time thinking about the son you left behind instead. Excuse me. I just lost my appetite.”
I get to my feet and push my chair in, but before I have a chance to walk away, he grabs me by the wrist and pulls me back toward the table.
“Sit down, Taylee. Let’s talk. I want to know about him. I’ve always felt so fucking bad for never going to visit him. Tell me about him? Please?”
The sheer look of hopelessness in his eyes hits me in my core and I feel myself faltering. I should just walk away, maybe run back home and get Luke. He might still be here by the time we get back, but what if he’s not?
With a heavy sigh, I pull my chair out and sit back down.
“He looks exactly like you. He’s tall too, very quiet and reserved. Doesn’t have much to say—even when you try to have a conversation with him. It’s usually short sentences or one-word answers.”
Trenton chuckles, his eyes showing signs of tears threatening to spill as he lets go of my arm. “He definitely didn’t get that from me.”
“Right.”
I cross my arms over my chest and give him my most defiant stare realizing in this moment that maybe Luke is more like me than I’ve noticed.
Trenton reaches for a napkin and begins to nervously rip pieces from the corners of it. “Um … is he … um … here?”
“No.”
“Fuck,” he says tossing the torn napkin with a sigh. “I would have loved to meet him, you know?”
“I’d rather not upset him,” I reply, jutting my chin out.
Trenton sighs again and looks away for a moment. “Maybe we can have dinner tonight? The three of us?”
“Maybe. Listen, I have to go,” I say getting to my feet again. This time I’m walking out of here no matter what he has to say.
“Okay. Um, I’ll come back here later then. Say around eight?” he asks, looking into my eyes with so much hope that I could almost swear he’s about to burst from it.
“I’ll talk to him and see what he wants to do,” I promise softly.
Trenton nods as he gets to his feet, the smile still on his face, and uses a knuckle to wipe away a stray tear.
“If I don’t see you guys later, I … Goddamn, Taylee. It was good to see you again,” he says as he shakes his head thoughtfully.
I clasp my hands in front of me and look down at my feet. If what he says is true, if he really thought about me all of these years, then why the hell did he get married again? Why didn’t he look us up?
But the young girl in me that fell for the tall, dark, mysterious, semi-stranger is starting to come to the surface again. I lean over and give him a quick peck on the cheek before I turn around and run out of the restaurant.
And I don’t stop running until I get home again.