“Well, I’m not most people.” I interject. At least Walt knows that something is off with me. I doubt he’ll ever really get how different I am though.
“Understatement of the year.” He mumbles into his mug as he takes another drink.
I stick my tongue out at him in response. No need for him to be mean. I look down at my glass while I stir the frothy white liquid with a spoon. “My mom actually used to makes this for me when I was little.” I reveal.
I used to love waking up in the morning to the smell of breakfast being cooked. And my mom loved cooking. She’d make a whole banquet out of every meal, but breakfast was our favorite. There are so many dishes that you can make for breakfast that are chock full of sugar. Pancakes had been my personal favorite and my mom would always dress them up in some unique way to make them special. Sometimes she’d top them off with fruit, make them with chocolate chips, or heap them with whipped cream and chocolate syrup. After she died though most of my meals came out of cans and frozen trays. My dad hadn’t had the same skill in the kitchen as she did or more accurately: he just hadn’t cared enough to bother.
“Hey, are you okay?” Walt asks softly drawing me out of my thoughts.
I blink and look up at him staring at me in concern. “I’m fine.” I try to assure him, but he doesn’t look too convinced.
“You don’t talk about your parents a lot.” He points out.
To be fair neither does he, but I know that it’s different so instead of saying that I just shrug. “There’s not much to say. They’re dead.” Walt’s face looks more concerned now than before. He tries to reach across the table and hold my hand, but I pull back. “No touching.” I reprimand him with a scowl. “And stop looking like that.” I order him.
Walt sighs and shakes his head. “You know one of these days you’re gonna open up to me and reveal all of your secrets.”
I narrow my eyes, “And where would the fun be in that?”
A small smile tugs on his face, “Oh, so all of this is just for your amusement?” He asks while gesturing between us.
“Absolutely.” I answer while taking a bite out of an animal cracker.
“I’ll see you later tonight?” Walt asks as I stand on his front porch, car keys in hand.
“If you wanna.” I answer coyly. “I’ll be working at the bar so you can swing by after your shift. If you want to.” I reiterate.
Walt smiles, “I do.” He replies, but then adds on, “want to… see you tonight… at the bar?” He answers looking more and more flustered.
I grin, “Okay.” I say back while resisting the urge to tease him. Instead I kiss him before turning to leave. “I’ll see you later.” I begin walking down the path to where I parked my truck.
“Wait!” Walt calls after me, “Am I meeting you after your shift or during your shift?” He asks, but instead of answering him I just smile and wave goodbye before getting behind the wheel. I’ll let him figure that one out for himself.
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