The Sign

*My entry for the Waffle House contest concocted by SUM FLUX

So, this is the spot? This is where she’s gonna be?

Yep. There’s an open booth by the window. That’s a good sign.

What time? This is serious, you know.

I know. She said here. At the stroke of midnight. It’s—lemme see—like eleven forty-five. That means we have a few minutes for a coffee and by the time we’re done, she should be standing on the curb. All better.

Cool. Wait. Shane?

Yes, Adam?

You said—

What can I getchu guys?

Uh, coffee.

Yeah, me too. Coffee, plus cream and sugar. Thanks.

Be right back. Sugar’s on the table, hon.

You said all better.

What?

You said all better, like as if Violet is going to get dropped off here at midnight to be picked up by, and no offense, but you’re my brother so I’m allowed to say it, her unreliable junkie boyfriend—

Fiancé.

Fine. Fiancé. The point is, a week ago, she was having a bottle of Tylenol for lunch, she just finished a stretch in the psych ward, and after all that, she had to pay for her own cab from the hospital across town to a shitty all-night diner, so she may not be in tip-top all-better shape just yet.

Number one, my dear Adamowski—this place is not shitty. And two—that’s what she does, man. She’s like the neediest, like mom’s level of needy but without the rough side. So, she goes and she expects more than I could possibly ever give, and then when the inevitable happens, when I fail, when I’m not the hero at the end of the Disney movie, she says she wants to die. Or tells me that I’d be better off if she were dead. Shit like that.

Hmm.

I never thought she’d actually do it though.

Me neither, I guess.

Selfish. If you ask me. I’ve been worried sick.

I’m sorry, man. I didn’t really think about how you might feel about it.

Well, I don’t feel good about it. Mad, actually. It’s not fair to do that to me, and definitely not right of her to take that kind of risk with the baby.

Baby? What the—

Hot coffee and cream here, boys. What can I get you to eat?

Oh, just the coffee, thanks. My fiancé’s gonna be here in a few minutes.

You let me know if you change your mind or need anything else.

Will do.

Shay.

Ad.

What baby? Is she pregnant?

Uh huh.

It’s your kid?

Yeah.

And what happened a week ago?

What do you mean?

When she did this. OD’d. What was the final straw or whatever?

I mean, she has a lot of complaints, things she works up into crimes against humanity in her head, you know, but it was mainly me quitting that job I hated that put her over the edge.

That’s it?

Well, I didn’t have a new job yet when I quit the old one. And I bought some things with her credit card because mine are all maxed out. Plus, I was swimming the other night with this chick she doesn’t like, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for her to act all crazy.

I knew it.

What?

You!

What about me.

It’s always this shit with you.

Wow. Thanks a lot, asshole.

Oh, sure. I’m the bad guy. Which one of us got our sweet, kind, miraculously employed girlfriend pregnant, screwed up her credit, and then basically cheated on her?

I get it. I know I messed up. But look, I’m here tonight. Okay? I’m going to start at a new work site with Jay on Monday. I called my old sponsor and we’re planning to hit a meeting. It’s going be different. I swear.

Well, good. I mean, I’m glad to hear that you’re at least able to talk the talk. But what really matters is that Violet feels good.

Right.

Not good. Great.

Yes.

Starting tonight.

Promise. Starting now. Finish your coffee, boss. She’ll be out front any second.

I’m done. I’ll get the bill.

Thanks.

Sure thing. I actually have a job.

Funny. Here’s a couple bucks. For the tip.

Kind of ya. After you sir.

Gracias.

Cool out here tonight.

Yeah, and quiet.

Got a light?

If you’ve got a cigarette.

I don’t see her.

Where could she be? She doesn’t have anywhere else to go. She’s counting on me.

It’s after midnight.

Maybe her ride’s running late. She said to be at the Waffle House at midnight.

Mm. Well…shit.

What is it?

Did it occur to you to glance up at the sign, numb nuts?

Why?

Because, this is Denny’s.

Fuck.

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