Page 9 - My FlipBook
P. 9
singing really softly and then the waitress came over and
sang really loudly with us? That one.
Lacy remembers. It was last year. She and Olivia had
surprised their mom by taking her out to dinner and pay-
ing for it with their own money. The waitress had told
them all that they were as cute as peas in a pod, which their
mom had loved.
OLIVIA: Anyway, I don’t think the waitress remembered that
because it was just me sitting there. She brings the cake,
and I say thanks, and . . . I can’t eat it. She comes back after
a while and says, “Is there something wrong with it?” And
I say no . . . nothing’s wrong . . . and I smile at her and she
smiles back and she pours a little more water into my glass
and walks to the next table. And the cake is sitting there on
the plate. A perfect piece. A middle piece, which I know is
exactly what you like, and it’s a big piece, a lucky one, per-
fectly baked, not too brown, with just the right amount of
crumbles on the top. And it smells so good. It smells really
fucking delicious, Lacy.
It hurts Olivia to talk, as if something bitter is expand-
ing in her throat, but she keeps going. Lacy blinks back
tears. She wants to climb out and put her arms around her
sister, but she doesn’t move.
OLIVIA: And then the waitress comes by again and she says,
“Really, if there’s something wrong, I can take it back.”
And I smile and I say, “It’s fine. I just ordered it for some-
one else.” And she says, “Oh,” and she brings another glass
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