Dearest - truly flung out of space

10 - Why are you so good with words?

6pm. I've been working since 4pm. I was the lucky one who had the long shift until 11pm today.
No sign of Carol.

7pm. Nothing.

8pm. Nothing.

8:30pm. A customer wants to order dessert. He complaints that he doesn't know what cakes we have even though the menu is lying right in front of him. So I give him a full rundown of our cakes and ice-cream flavours.

As I return to the bar, I suddenly spot blonde locks. She's here. It almost feels like the Queen herself has arrived. Carol is wearing a black suit today. Her hair is open and beautifully curled. This might be the first time she's not having her hair in a bun. She looks beautiful. Ethereal even.

I gather all my courage together and make my way behind the counter. Carol doesn’t notice my presence at first, so I have a bit more time to take in her full beauty.

“Hello Ma’am, what can I get you” I joke and look into her beautiful eyes. She lets out a loud laugh, causing all other customers to look at her. They are not used to so much pure happiness. But Carol is not embarrassed, quite the opposite, actually. She laughs even louder, causing me to join her with a bubbly laugh. We earn mad looks from the other waiters, but it doesn't bother me. I've never felt so reckless at work.

I place the dry martini on the bar, only to earn another heartfelt smile from her.
"You know me too well, dear," she says and takes a sip from the cool liquid.
I get back to work, mainly pouring drinks and preparing small food orders.

From time to time, I get the chance to talk to Carol. She seems happy, telling jokes and making compliments about my service. I steal little glances from her, and I’m impressed at how wonderful she looks.

A customer raises his hand to place his order.
“Duty calls, please excuse me Ma’am,” I joke and earn a chuckle from Carol.
The customer orders a decent meal, consisting of steak and fries.

Returning back to Carol, I find her glass empty. Without saying anything, I refill her drink.
“What do you do on Sunday?” she suddenly asks.
I’m taken back from her words, not expecting her to ask something like that.
“Nothing, why?” I reply and take a sip from my water to hide my red cheeks.
“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to visit me this Sunday. We haven’t had the chance to have our lunch or dinner together and I could cook something. There’s some nice countryside where I live, so maybe we could go for a walk,” she explains. I can hear the nervousness in her voice. Of course I want to visit her, no question. But what will I wear, how will I behave?

“Would you like to visit me this Sunday?” she asks again, bringing me back to reality.
“Yes,” I answer and gently smile at her.
“What a -,” she starts, but she’s interrupted by my boss calling me.
I excuse myself from her, asking myself what she would have wanted to tell or ask me.

Arriving in the kitchen, I expect my boss to find an excuse to yell at me. He doesn’t even need a specific reason.
I clench my jaw, awaiting my punishment.

“Y/N, there has been a problem with the schedules. You’ve been working for 35 hours when you are only allowed to work for 20. I don’t know how this happened and so you don’t have to work for the rest of this and next week as a compensation. When I have fixed the schedule, you can come back,” he explains. I don’t believe what I hear. He’s going to let me go home? Not to brag, but I am the best waitress in this restaurant, and he’s giving me paid vacation?
Still unable to answer, I get back to Carol.

“What happened? Did you get in trouble?” she asks, seeming clearly terrified of my answer.
“No, I can go home,” I answer plainly.
Her eyes widen. Panic starts to erupt in her tall figure.
“They fired you?” she almost shouts, her voice full with anger.
I look at her in confusion.
“What, no. I’ve been working for too many hours, and he gave me 2 weeks of paid vacation,” I explain. Carol seems relieved. Her concerned look is replaced by a big smile. Her eyes almost disappear, that’s how much she smiles.

“God, my dear, you scared me,” she sighs and takes the last sip of her drink. Her glass is empty now and I wonder if she would have another drink with me at another bar. It’s like she can read my thoughts.
“Do you want to get out of here and have a drink somewhere?” she asks with a nervous tone. As an answer, I nod, and we get our stuff together to leave.

I wonder what she wanted to tell me earlier. Even though I have no idea how to ask her, I still find myself speaking before I could even really think about the sentence I want to say.
“You wanted to say something earlier. Before we got interrupted by my boss,” I stumble. Not knowing how to react, I make sure not to meet her gaze at all, hoping she isn’t acknowledging me. But I feel her eyes on me. She chuckles - another sound I will add to my list of my favourite sounds of her.

Carol tries to brush it off, but I’m trying for her to say it again because I’m generally curious.
“It doesn’t fit the context anymore, dear,” she says and leads the way to a small bench. She gestures for me to sit, and I follow her order.
“Please tell me,” I plead, “we could re-design the situation.”
Carol laughs, seeming to be entertained by my idea.

We sit in silence for a while. It was stupid to think that Carol would tell me again, so I just accept my defeat.
The evening is peaceful, the sun had already set, and the city was beautifully lit by the stars and the moon. The air is warm, a very pleasing atmosphere. I find myself closing my eyes, enjoying the moment.

“What a strange girl you are,” Carol suddenly says.
I furrow my eyebrows, not understanding her point.
“Why?” I shyly ask and turn my face in her direction. She is looking straight ahead into the darkness.
I don’t receive an answer straight away, and I accept that. A few minutes pass before she speaks again.
“Flung out of space,” she whispers and looks at me. Her words are so sincere, I find myself drowning in them. God, I really am in love with this woman.

“It’s getting late, we should head home,” she says. I check my watch and it is already 9:30pm. Carol probably needs to get home to Rindy.
“Yes of course.” I answer and throw my jacket over my shoulder.
“I’ll drive you,” she says as she gets up from the little bench. She strokes the invisible folds of her suit and takes her car key out of her back.
“Oh no, Carol, it’s alright. It would be a detour for you. I’ll manage,” I reassure her and get ready to go to the bus station.
“Y/N!” she almost shouts, “there is no way you’re taking the bus at such a late hour. Get in the car.” Her tone is strict, almost persuasive, but I obey her order. How could I ever deny her anything?

The drive is quiet but comfortable. Driving with Carol sometimes seems like a kind of therapy. She never forces me to say something, she just understands. When I'm in Carol's car, I feel like I'm in a safe space.

She drops me off at home. It's way too early for my liking. I really don't want to leave her just yet.
As a sign of protest, I remain in the leather seat, wanting to see her reaction.
Carol looks at me with confusion.
"Sweetheart, we're here. You have to get off now," she says.
I cross my arms in front of my chest.
"Don't want to," I mumble, almost like a child.
But when I earn a heartfelt chuckle from Carol, I know that it was worth it.
I undo the seatbelt and get out of her car.

"I'll text you regarding our date on Sunday, okay? I really have to go, Rindy is waiting for me," Carol explains, and I feel guilty for taking so much of her time.
"Yes, of course. Sorry for wasting your time with my little show," I apologize only for her to smile at me.
"Nonsense, my dear. Now, have a good evening," she replies and gets out of her car. I expect nothing more from her, so I turn around to open my door.
"Don't I get a hug?" she suddenly asks, catching me off guard.
I drop my bag on the floor and open my arms wide for her. Her strong arms wrap around me, keeping me safe from all the bad things in this world. Unconsciously, I place my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. It's a magical moment, I never want to let her go.

"I really need to go," she mumbles. Hesitantly, I let go of her, missing her touch immediately.
"Bye Carol. I'll see you on Sunday," I whisper.
"Yes, dear. That's right. I really enjoyed her company today. I'll see you," she shouts before getting in her car and driving off.

I really have to write the letter for her.

Carol Aird, will it make sense to you?