Reminders of Him

“It was honestly so stupid when I look back on it,” he says. “The whole breakup. We got in an argument about kids we don’t even have yet.”

“And that ended your engagement?”

He nods. “Yep.”

“What was the argument?”

“She asked me if I was going to love my future kids more than I love Diem. And I said no, I would love them all the same.”

“That made her angry?”

“It bothered her how much time I spent with Diem. She said when we started a family of our own one day, I’d have to spend less time focusing on Diem and more time on our family. It was like an epiphany. I realized she didn’t see Diem fitting into a potential future family like I did. After that, I sort of just . . . checked out, I guess.”

I don’t know why I expected their breakup to be over something more serious. People don’t usually break up over hypothetical situations, but it says a lot about Ledger that he was able to see his own happiness is tied to Diem’s happiness, and he wouldn’t settle for anyone who didn’t respect that.

“Leah sounds like a terrible bitch.” I’m half kidding when I say it, which is why Ledger laughs. But the more I think about it, the more irritated I get. “Seriously, though. Screw her for thinking Diem isn’t worthy of the same love as kids who don’t even exist yet.”

“Exactly. Everyone thought I was crazy for breaking up with her, but to me it was a precursor to all the potential problems we’d be facing down the road.” He smiles at me. “Look at you being an overprotective mother. I don’t feel so crazy now.”

As soon as he says that—acknowledges me as Diem’s mother—my face falls. It was a simple sentence, but it meant everything to hear it come from him.

Even if it slipped out by accident.

Ledger straightens up and then locks his truck. “I better get inside; the parking lot looked packed.”

He never said what he left to go do for several hours tonight, but I have a feeling he was doing something with Diem. But he could have also been on a date, which unnerves me almost as much.

I’m not allowed to be in my own daughter’s life, but whoever Ledger decides to date gets to be in her life, and that automatically makes me jealous of whatever girl that ends up being.

At least it won’t be Leah.

Screw her.

Roman brings a crate full of glasses to the back and sets them by the sink for me. “I’m heading out,” he says. “Ledger said he’d give you a ride home if you don’t mind waiting. He’s got about half an hour of shit left to do.”

“Thanks,” I say to Roman. He takes off his apron and tosses it into a basket where all the other employee aprons have ended up for the night. “Who cleans those?” I don’t know if that’s supposed to be my job. I’m not even really sure what all my job entails. Ledger wasn’t here to train me throughout the night, and everyone else kind of pointed out things here and there that I could do, so I’ve just been doing everything I can get my hands on.

“There’s a washer and dryer upstairs,” Roman says.

“There’s another level to the bar?” I haven’t seen any stairs.

He points at the door that leads out to the alley. “Access to the stairs is outside. Half of the space is storage, the other half is a studio apartment with a washer and dryer.”

“Do I need to take them up and wash them?”

He shakes his head. “I usually do that in the mornings. I live there.” He pulls his shirt off to toss it in the basket just as Ledger walks into the kitchen.

Roman is shirtless now, changing into his street clothes, and Ledger is staring straight at me. I know it looks like I was staring at Roman as he was changing, but we were having an active conversation. I wasn’t staring at him because he was momentarily shirtless. Not that it matters, but it embarrasses me, so I turn around and focus on the remaining dishes.

Roman and Ledger have a conversation I can’t hear, but I do hear it when Roman tells Ledger good night and leaves. Ledger disappears back into the front of the bar.

I’m alone, but I prefer it that way. Ledger makes me more nervous than comfortable.

I finish my work and wipe everything down for a final time. It’s half past midnight, and I have no idea how much longer Ledger has until he’s finished. I don’t want to bother him, but I’m too tired to walk home, so I wait for the ride.

I grab my stuff and push myself onto the counter. I pull out my notebook and my pen. I don’t know that I’ll ever do anything with the letters I write to Scotty, but they’re cathartic.