JUST LIKE HER (ANDY BARBER)

17. THE KIND OF MAN WHO MAKES ME SAD

October

You lived in a permanent state of exhaustion. Against the advice of your OB/GYN, you were working as many hours as you possibly could at the diner. You were nearly halfway through your pregnancy, and you needed as much money as you could earn for your little baby. And if that meant working from the morning, lunch, and dinner shifts, then so be it.

It was getting harder, though, as your baby bump began to show. The diner already had its fair share of creeps as patrons. But now? Now it seemed the creeps came out in full force, asking you if your baby daddy was in the picture, if you needed a big strong man to help you. The more they spoke, the more vile, disgusting things came out of their force. They were, however, sometimes your biggest tippers, so you painted on a smile, laughing at their comments, waiting for it all to be over with.

As you were beginning to learn, luck was not on your side.

For, as you watched the hostess sit people, you realized that Andy Barber and his oh so lovely wife Laurie had just been sat in your section.

Panic struck you. You hadn't seen either one of them since May, when Andy...did what he did, and when Laurie told you to leave Andy. You looked around, trying to find someone who could take the table from you. Sandy, though, was the only other waitress working at the moment.

You followed her as she went into the kitchen, asking, "Hey, can I ask you to cover a table for me?"

She looked back at you. "No."

"Please?" you asked. "You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

"The answer is still no."

"Please, I really need this. I know these people, and, and, they're not going to be happy to see me."

She looked you up and down, her gaze settling on your protruding belly. "Well, perhaps you shouldn't have spread your legs for a taken man then, hmm? Deal with your own fuckin' fallout. I've already been oversat, and I don't need to take any more tables."

You wanted to cry. You almost did. Damn your fucking hormones. But you managed to stop the waterworks before they started, and went back out, holding onto your notepad and pen tightly as you went out to Andy and Laurie's table.

"Sorry for your wait," you said, keeping your eyes down. "My name's Y/N, I'll be your server. Can I get you two anything to drink to start?"

You glanced up when neither of them said anything. Both of them were staring, eyes locked on your baby bump. You could practically see the gears turning in Laurie's mind, trying to calculate just when you would have gotten pregnant to be showing this much. You shifted on your feet.

"We, uh, have Coke products, iced tea, lemonade," you listed.

Andy looked up, eyes locking with yours. "I'll have water, thank you."

You jotted it down, then looked to Laurie. "And for you?"

You could feel the thousands of words on the tip of her tongue, and you waited for her to lay into you, to call you a thousand horrible names. And you probably would have deserved every single one. Instead, though, she said, "A lemonade."

You nodded. "I'll go put that in and be back in a few minutes to take your orders."

They quickly became your most difficult table. Well, Laurie did, anyways. Andy didn't say many words to you. No, he just watched, silent, as if he was trying to figure out what to say, if he could say it in front of his wife.

Nothing was right for Laurie. She had you remake everything a thousand times over it felt.

"This lemonade's too sweet." (Fine, a fair complaint.)