[Aldo]
“I think it’s about time we got lunch, right?”
Dawn looks at me like I’m in trouble. Like it was my fault to bring up all the history with her brother. I suppose I am in a way, but I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even get to tell her about the text I received from him.
About his first days with Luca. I almost crack up from the thought, but if I did that, then surely I’d be in even more trouble.
Dawn just grunts at my offer of food.
“C’mon. The roadhouse is just a mile away. I saw the sign for it before; Let’s get some pancakes.”
“We’re stopping for lunch,” Dawn says, arms still folded. “Pancakes aren’t lunch.”
“You’ve never had pancakes for lunch? Let me change that.”
She twists her lips, stares out at the passing highway, then finally smiles.
I grin back, knowing I’ve chipped a little bit of armor away.
The mile passes quickly, and soon we’re pulling up to the enormous roadhouse area. There’s a car park full to the brim, a gas station with a few cars lined up at the pumps, and people washing bugs from windshields. We avoid it all and pass the enormous foodery to head round back.
There’s a second food hall attached here, as well as bathrooms and showers. Trucks are lined up on the other side of the little road that divides the car park and gas station monstrosity. But it’s’ there among it all I see what we’re looking for, the little diner symbol.
I park and switch off the engine. I think I should offer another little snippet of advice about Andre. I understand how complex the relationship is, or at least can glimpse it, but then I realize the thing I’ve never really been able to grasp that Lindsey of all people taught me.
She pointed out that sometimes people want to be heard, not necessarily given advice to…
I shut my trap at Dawn’s inquisitive face and get out of the van.
We walk inside, and the place is buzzing. Kids are running everywhere; a part of me wonders if they’re all on holiday?
Or are they on school holidays? I suppose it doesn’t matter, there’s enough people in our country to be on vacation at any time doing whatever they want to make any gas station look busy. The place still smells amazing, though.
There’re a few coffee vending machines and a large line for the burger place, but my eyes are only on the diner and the pancakes. A nice big coffee too. I order a double stack, an extra few servings of maple syrup too, and take enough butter to bankrupt a small cow.
Dawn gets a stack, but instead of extra maple, gets some fruit. She grabs a small juice to drink too. We find a little booth overlooking the carpark and our van.
We begin eating, no talking, just enjoying each other’s company. I smile at her, and she smiles back.
It’s like we’re on a real first date. But I don’t say it out loud. The thought spooks me for some reason.
“I’ve had pancakes for lunch before,” Dawn says suddenly.
I pause, a fork halfway to my lips. I nod my head to show her that I’ve heard.
She continues on. “When we left my dad. When we drove across the country to escape him, we didn’t really stop until we were in the dead center. Mom had just been so freaked out, so convinced that he…”
she fades off to nothing, sighs, and shakes her head. “Anyway, we ate in gas stations like this the whole way.
Andre and I were so young. I guess as kids in a weird situation like that, in a world that’s drastically changing,” Dawn shrugs. “I guess pancakes were safe. Cause everything else was so insane. Mom would be crying silently as she drove, thinking that we were asleep, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t tell us the truth. Now I know. I’m older and definitely know.”
Dawn has stopped eating and is pushing her pancakes around. “But we only ate pancakes on the road. Mom would try to get us to eat all these other foods or try anything, but night and day, at every stop, we had pancakes.”
She smiles at the memory. Despite it being one of darkness, it brings some light. “We always had pancakes. So yes, I’ve had pancakes for lunch.”
I grin. “Well, I’m happy that we’ve brought you back to the food group of most importance.” Dawn snorts. “Which reminds me, your pancake looks a little dry. I think it could sponge up some of my maple syrup.” I offer one of the many foil sealed packets of maple syrup I’ve taken. Dawn shakes her head and smiles, looking away at all the cars.
“That’s why I’m angry at Andre. Moving north with Leah, that never mattered. It’s the fact that he left when the shit hit the fan for Mom. Our mom, who’d done so much to remove us from a bad situation.”
I take her hand. I don’t know what to say. Dawn wipes away a tear, and in a flash, I move around the booth. I bring her into a hug. She doesn’t let herself go but lets herself be hugged.
A few minutes pass, and we just sit there holding onto one another. The morning disappears, along with all the madness and paranoia. The crash and working with Reggie. Even my fear of ruining my friendship with Andre if I date his sister disappears. Suddenly it all seems so easy, and stupid. Just being honest would fix things. But then, it’s not the fear of honesty that stops us from admitting things, it’s the results of that honesty.
Eventually, a little hand reaches out from under my arm and drags a stack of pancakes across the table. My pancakes. Dawn frees herself of my grip and continues eating. We both do. Swapping our plates back, we eat in silence and enjoy the coffee.
It’s beautiful. It’s nice. I suppose, in some way, it’s normal.
A bunch of kids run past us playing a game of tag. There’re two boys and a little girl, I can’t help but wonder if it’s the same situation as myself, Andre and Dawn?