Page 9 of FWB

Kenny

I pull into the nearest Waffle House, with Tiegan closely behind me. We each exit our cars and make our way to the entrance, where I hold the door open for her. She flashes me one of her million-dollar smiles before thanking me.

“Hey, kids. Welcome in. Sit anywhere,” the tired waitress instructs us.

We take a seat at the nearest open booth and pull out the menus.

I don’t actually need to look at one. Waffle House is a late-night staple, so I already know what I want.

It looks like Tiegan does, too, because she barely glances at the menu before pushing it aside.

The waitress, whose nametag reads Cindy, comes over to take our drink orders.

She’s an older, stout woman with greasy hair pulled back into a messy bun, and I notice she has a pronounced unibrow.

When she smiles, I can see the coffee and cigarette stains on her teeth from her decades-long addiction to both, probably. “What can I get you two to drink?”

“I’ll have a coffee. No creamer, please,” Tiegan requests.

“Same for me, thanks,” I reply.

“Are y’all ready to order, or do you need a minute?” Cindy asks.

Tiegan looks at me. “I’m ready if you are.”

“Sure.”

We give her our orders, both a variation of their All-Star Special. Once Cindy walks away to call out our orders to the greasy cook, Tiegan redirects her attention to me.

“So, black coffee, huh?” I ask.

“Yup. Black like my soul,” she says as she smirks.

“So, what’s your deal?”

“My deal?” she asks, confused.

“Yeah, what’s your story? Who is Tiegan Schulz?”

She lets out a heavy breath. “How much time do you have?” She huffs a laugh.

I check my watch. “At least as long as it takes us to get our food and eat.”

“Well, the TL;DR version is I’m thirty-two and you already know I’m a Halloween baby.” She gives me another one of those smiles I’m starting to grow very fond of. “Never married, no kids unless you count my five cats.”

Five cats? Damn. This girl loves her pets. “Nice. I love animals! I have three cats myself.”

“Aw, they’re the best, aren’t they? I love dogs, but there’s just something about cats that meshes with my soul. And I’m not having children, so my cats are my kids.”

“Are kids just not your thing?”

“Not really. I actually had a tubal ligation performed a couple of years ago to prevent me from having kids in the future.” She leans back in her seat and crosses her arms across her chest, seemingly preparing her defenses.

This throws me off a bit. I’ve never given much thought to having kids of my own.

I couldn’t care less either way. It was always just one of those things I would deal with if the situation presented itself.

Although, at thirty-eight, I feel like my time for fatherhood is behind me.

It’s just strange for a woman to make such a permanent decision so young. “Wow. That’s a big decision.”

“Yeah, it was. It was also the best decision I ever made. Pregnancy was literally my number one fear in life. It was freeing to wake up from the operation and realize my biggest fear would never come true.”

I take her words in. “So is it just pregnancy that scares you, or children in general?”

“That’s more of a loaded question than you may think,” she says with a sly smile behind her coffee mug.

“Why is that?”

“Because my fears of becoming a mom stem from the strained relationship I have with my own mother. She hasn’t been the most stable figure in my life over the years. I’m terrified I’ll end up making the same mistakes she’s made. I’m in therapy for it, but the fear still remains.”

Not wanting to pry, I simply say, “I get that.”

But if this conversation makes her uncomfortable, she doesn’t show it. “Yeah, she’s an alcoholic. She also has severe depression and social anxiety, on top of suicidal tendencies,” she goes on to say.

I blanch. “That’s … that’s horrible. I’m so sorry.” I want to reach out and grab her hand that she sets on the table, but I stop myself.

She simply shrugs. “It is what it is. I’ve dealt with it my entire life. She’s a good person. She just has demons she can’t seem to overcome. Like I said, I’m in therapy for it, but we live together. So it’s hard to get over something you have to deal with constantly.”

“I definitely understand demons,” I say, preparing to open myself up to this relative stranger.

“I never talk about this, but I used to be addicted to cocaine and pills. I could barely go a few hours without taking a bump. After I broke up with my longtime ex, I spiraled. I kept chasing this high because it was the only time I actually felt something. I almost OD’d one night.

My best friend, Sam, came home to find me passed out on the couch with blood coming out of my nose.

He called the ambulance and they rushed me to Vanderbilt. I was very close to death.”

“Oh, my gosh,” she says as she places her hand on her heart in shock. “Did you get clean after that?”

“Yeah, that was my rock bottom. I went home and stayed in bed for weeks just detoxing. Sam basically took care of me during that time. He definitely took care of my cats. None of us would have made it through that time if it weren’t for him.

” I take a deep breath and let it out. It feels good to talk about this.

It feels like forever since I was last strung out, and yet it feels like yesterday.

“I’m still in regular therapy to deal with the aftereffects of addiction, too, but it’s nice to talk to someone on the outside about it.

Not a lot of people know this, but when I first interviewed for Kroger, I was detoxing from the pills I was taking.

I was so messed up, I don’t know how I made it through that interview.

Luckily, it was during the pandemic, so it was via video chat.

Otherwise, I highly doubt we’d be sitting here together right now. ”

“Well, I’m really glad you came out on the other side. You seem like a cool guy. I’m sure this world would miss you if you were gone.” She gives me a sweet smile as she places her hand atop mine.

I look down at our touching hands. Chills run through my entire body; it’s like an electric current. “I don’t know about the world, but maybe one or two people in it.”

At that time, Cindy approaches our table carrying our food, and Tiegan removes her hand, taking her warmth with it.

Cindy places my food in front of me—scrambled eggs, double hash browns, extra crispy bacon, toast, and a waffle.

She places the same in front of Tiegan, except she just got a single serving of hash browns with cheese.

We settle into a comfortable silence as we eat.

Once we’re about finished with our food, Cindy approaches us with the ticket. Tiegan reaches for her purse, but I hold up my hand to stop her. “I got this,” I tell her, taking out my wallet.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind splitting.”

“No, don’t worry about it. This was my idea anyway.” I give her, what I hope is, a genuine smile, letting her know that I’m sincere about paying for the meal.

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it. Money is pretty tight for my family right now. My aunt was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer earlier this year, so she’s been out of work for the last four months. I wasn’t making enough in the vet field, so I left and came to Kroger.”

“I’m really sorry to hear about your aunt. How is she doing?”

“Thank you. She’s actually doing okay. The chemo isn’t diminishing the cancer, and the mass is too large to go in and remove via surgery.

The chemo is just keeping it from growing.

She doesn’t let the illness get her down, though.

She still goes out with her old friends every once in a while, and we hang out a lot when I’m at home.

She still thinks she’s the funniest person she knows.

” Tiegan giggles, taking one last sip of her coffee.

Damn. This woman has been through so much in her life, between a psychotic mother and a dying aunt.

I just want to pull her out of this booth and wrap her in my arms, giving her the biggest hug I can muster.

But I don’t, because I’m not the one who’s meant to comfort her.

I can’t be. This woman deserves someone much better than me.

Goddamnit if I don’t want to be, though.

As we exit the restaurant, my mouth speaks before my brain can catch up. “Hey, can I get your number? This was fun. We should hang out again sometime.”

There’s that smile again, but is that also a blush creeping up her pale cheeks? I think so, but can’t tell for sure in this horrible lighting.

“Yeah, give me your phone.” I unlock it and open the Contacts app before handing my iPhone over. She takes it and puts in her number. “Text me later.”

“I will. Have a good rest of your night, Tiegan.”

“You too, Kenny.”

She lingers just a moment before walking the few steps to her car and getting in. I watch her pull away, wishing I would have kissed her.

When I get home, I search my contacts for Tiegan’s name and click the icon to send a text message.

Kenny: Hey, it’s Kenny. Did you make it home safely?

Fifteen minutes go by before I finally get a reply.

Tiegan: Hey! Yes, I just pulled in. Thanks again for tonight. It was fun :)

Kenny: Good, glad you made it home. It was fun. Thanks for getting me out of the house.

Tiegan: Anytime. Sweet dreams, Kenny.

I smile at the messages on my phone before hooking it up to the charger on my bedside table for the night.

As I get into bed, I keep replaying our conversation in my mind.

All of the trauma she’s been through in her life, she’s so strong.

Once I drift off to sleep I do, in fact, have sweet dreams for the first time in as long as I can remember.