Last Olive Bistro ✓

Chapter 22: House Call

Jacob didn't take the news all that well. He reacted more emotionally than I expected because he was always a calm man since I've known him. I sincerely tried to tune his concerns out, but caught him muttering something about suing the city.

"Anyone who wasn't paying attention would have slipped too," I said.

"That's my point, exactly! It's dangerous. There should have been a sign—" he went on and on.

I stirred the instant chicken noodle soup in a mug and added an extra dash of salt. I preferred my soup that way. Before I could take the first sip, Rory came home.

"What trouble did you get yourself into this time?" he asked, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna go. My roommate just got here," I said to Jacob, who was still rambling on the other end. "Ok... Yes... Ok, I will. Talk to you later."

Rory plopped a white paper bag of food on top of the counter next, then ripped open the side to easily access its contents.

"I just made soup," I whined. It took every ounce of strength left in me to hobble over on crutches, drag a dining chair to the kitchen, then concoct the soup. I sat near the stove and ate.

He opened a square cardboard box and slid the glorious surprise across the counter. "That's fine. Have your instant soup or have this extra crispy chicken sandwich."

The sandwich masterpiece was packed with crunchy lettuce, thick tomatoes, and thin pickle slices—exactly how I liked it. My mouth instantly watered for the treat and I stuck my hand out to pull it over the rest of the way.

"I want both," I said. "Help me."

I placed my crutches at my sides and Rory assisted me to stand up. I click-clacked to the dining table, then sat helpless as I stared at him across the small space. He gawked at me, then back at the food I left behind.

"How long am I supposed to be your maid?" he joked.

"Forever," I said. "Meaning, a few days."

Rory brought all the treats over and we shared a late lunch. The intense hunger didn't strike me until I took the first big bite of the sandwich and swallowed it. The chicken was perfectly juicy and exceptionally crispy.

My phone rang but I couldn't see who it was through the cracked screen.

"Just eat," Rory said. "When are you getting a new one?"

I mumbled an "I don't know" while in the middle of taking another huge bite. I couldn't shove it in fast enough.

The ringtone went on long enough until it automatically went to voicemail. Instinctively, I picked it up. Rory scoffed. "God, woman, finish your meal."

"It was Angela," I commented after seeing just the first few numbers.

Rory stole some of my fries and said, "Who cares?"

I placed the phone down then Rory and I finished our meal before he had to run to his second job.

"How's your work going?" I asked as he slipped his shoes back on.

"Not terrible," he said. "The tips are decent because tourists have the money to throw away."

"They're not exactly throwing it away. It's going to a worthy cause." I shot him a wink, but he playfully rolled his eyes. It was only the truth.

~ ~ ~

My night was eventless, but it reminded me that I needed to slow down once in a while. I had been working so much at the Bistro that I forgot what real 'me time' was. The night included binge watching my favorite sitcom, taking an eternity to get myself to the bathroom and back, and for once, finally ignoring my phone when one notification after another dinged.