Tell Me No Lies

The Usual

"we all ache for home. for a safe place to grow"

❀

Gemma

My eyes are locked on my scuffed shoes as I approach Bobby's, a familiar sense of responsibility washing over me.
That, and hunger pangs.

I swiftly turn the key in the lock and step inside, where my other home awaits me.
The chaotic atmosphere of the kitchen ensues all around. Plates clang. The smell of grease fills my lungs.
I let go of a breath I didn't realize I was holding on to.

It's as if I've never left.

No one notices my presence yet. Or at least, it seems to be that way. I'm more a part of things here than an addition.

"Gemma!" Demitri exclaims, setting down his ladle into a pot on the stovetop and jogging over with arms wide open. He pulls me into a friendly embrace.

How am I supposed to tell anyone here that I can't stop my own family from ruining their lives?

"How are you, kiddo?" He says, releasing me and adjusting his apron.

"The usual," I lie. He ruffles my hair and I swat his hand away jokingly.

"Hey, why don't you be my taste tester for this broth?" Demitri says, his eyes lighting up.

He dips a little tablespoon into the pot and I nod, sipping from it happily.

"You know, I think I finally got it down. I didn't have the easiest time trying to replicate what your mother—"

His eyes bulge as if he's made a terrible mistake.

I want to tell him it's okay. That his broth tastes delicious. That it reminds me of dinners at the diner on friday nights, just me and mom, and when we'd sneak leftovers into the movie theater.

But for some reason I can't. It makes my throat start to feel like it's swelling up.

So instead I offer him a small smile and make my way to the counter out front.

A bright red, bouncing ponytail catches my sight.

"Mrs. Solana?"

I hear her gasp, and I giggle as she practically drops her customer's tray to the floor. Mrs. Solana rushes over, immediately enveloping me in her arms.
She still smells like coffee and cigarettes.

"Oh, we missed you so much here! You and your incredible baking, of course!"

I scoff lightly.

"It's not that incredible—"

"Your talent is yours as much as it was your mothers," she whispers endearingly, giving me a poke in the chest.

I stand on my tiptoes and snatch myself a spare waitress' apron from the hook.

"You know, we'd rather have you put your baking and cooking skills to use back there. Why the apron?" she inquires, wetting a towel and beginning to scrub the counter.

"I'm useful out here, too. And anyway, why are you waitressing, Mrs. Solana?"

She pauses hesitantly, and then her gentle eyes find mine.

"We lost a few servers after your mother passed. Things weren't running well without her in the beginning,"

At this moment, I can't help but think to myself that things still aren't running well without her for me.