Someone Willing to Stay

He Can Handle It

     I'm living in a world where forgiveness is hard. Especially if I'm the one that needs to be forgiven.
      I left nine years ago, I left my mom and my brother, and now I realized that I left Mel. And she thought about me almost as often as I thought about her. And I can see the wheels turning in her head as I turn the steering wheel, she's trying to figure out if me making her skip school and lie to the people she cares about is enough to make her forgive me.
      Maybe it is. Or maybe she'll decide that almost being put in a jail cell twice is too much.
     Running from authority is something I did a lot Florida. Hanging around with the wrong crowd, talking too loud at the wrong places. I would run from police more often than I showed up for school.
     It's normal for me to be in trouble.
     "Do you even know where we're going?" I ask Mel for the fifth time.
     She looks over at me with a glare, "I've been here like twenty times with my mom. My mom and Adam. It's been a while but I remember. Left here."
     I follow her directions with a reluctant sigh.
     "Your mom's still taking extra shifts?"
     She stiffens, twisting her fingers, "She likes helping people. She wants to be home, she wants to be with me. She just- she just likes helping people."
      I feel like a struck a nerve. I'm not sure if she's trying to prove those words to me or to herself.
     "Sure. What about Adam? Doesn't that low life have a job?"
     "He's focusing on school right now. And he's not a low life, he's my brother. Take a right here."
     I quickly turn as she directed me, "Oh come on, we both used to hate the guy. He hasn't changed a bit."
     "But we have."
     She's got me there.
     I clear my throat awkwardly, glancing at her as she bites her lip.
     Now is not the time to notice her lips, perv.
     I'm not-
     Sure.
     "The little cafe up here." Mel tells me suddenly, pointing to a small yellow building on the left side of the road. There are three cars in the parking lot, so I manage to find a spot easily.
     The words Lost Wanderer Cuisine are written in bright but flickering lights at the top of the building.
     "This place is sketchy."
     Mel frowns, slamming the car door as she gets out, "It is not. It's a family friendly environment."
     "I'm a grown man, I don't need family friendly." I tell her.
     "Seventeen is not grown. Just trust me."
     I roll my eyes and follow her up to the door.
     There's a little bell that chimes as we enter into the air conditioned space. There are several booths lining the walls, and counter stools lined all along the counter. The place is dimly lit. It smells like fries and ketchup.
     "Come on, we seat ourselves."
     She immediately goes to the very back of the room, to a booth in the corner.
     My eyebrows furrow as she sits down, "Are you sure this is where you wanna sit?"
     She pauses, "Well this is where Adam always makes m- wants to sit. It's dark and quiet."
     "Do you want to sit here?" I ask her again, emphasizing every word.
     She doesn't speak for a second, looking down at the table and then back up at me.
     "No. No- I hate this table." She laughs.
     "Okay," I don't question her weird behavior, "come on, let's sit where people can actually see us."
     "Okay."
     Mel follows me to a booth by the door.
     We both sit down and I look around. There's an old juke box in the corner of the room. There are children's paintings covering the wall by the counter.
     "The pictures come with the kid menus. The kids color them in and they get displayed on the wall." Mel explains to me.
     "Oh my Lord, is that Melanie?" There's a loud shriek and I jump, startled.
      A skinny woman runs out from behind the counter, she's half my size with a sloppy blond bun hidden under a hair net. She's so tiny it looks like one hug could break her in two, but I'm mistaken as Mel stands up and the woman practically lifts her off her feet.
     Mel wraps her arms around the woman.
     "We haven't seen you around here in a year!" The woman is shouting, grinning at Mel showing almost every tooth in her mouth.
     "I've been a little busy. But I'm here today."
     The woman smiles before looking over at me and light heartedly smirking, "And you brought a friend."
     Mel's eyes widen in realization, "Right, Carlie, this is Mason, Mason this is Carlie. She owns this place."
     I stand up and shake her hand, flashing a smile, "Nice to meet you."
     Carlie winks at Mel, "He's polite and handsome. A real keeper."
     I see Mel's cheeks turn red, "Carlie."
     "Oh hush up and sit down! Let me get you guys started with some drinks."
      "I'll have a root beer please." I tell her.
      Carlie nods and looks at Mel.
     "A strawberry lemonade with a lemon on the side." Mel and Carlie say at the same time, laughing as they both finish the sentence.
     "I'll have those right out."
     Once she leaves to go get the drinks I turn to Mel.
      "So maybe we came here more than twenty times." She shrugs and I smile.
      She's happy here. Although the air is cold, the atmosphere is warm.
     "I can tell."
     Mel laughs, "I promise Mike makes the absolute best food."
     I look down at the menu but before I can open it, Mel takes it from me.
     I look up, confused.
     "You won't be needing that. I'll order for you."
     "Someone's confident." I note.
     She smiles, "I know you and I know this fine establishment. Trust me." She says the last part for the second time that day.
     "Alright, alright." I give in.
     Carlie comes out with each of our drinks in tall glass cups.
     "Here you go. Decided what you want?"
     "A regular for me," Mel pauses giving time for Carlie to smile and write it down, "and for him a number six, make it a double."
     "You think he can handle it?" Carlie asks, looking at me judgmentally.
     Mel nods, "He can handle it."
     God, I hope I can handle it.

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