Don't Drop Your Mask

I woke up the next morning in my bed. The porch door was open and there was a little note on the whiteboard on my fridge.

‘Lock your porch door before you leave. Keys on the counter. Love’

He didn’t sign it.

He has sloppy handwriting. I walked my dog, fed and watered him, then got ready for work. It was already two by the time I got out of the shower. I wouldn’t be late. Today’s my day to close.

I sighed and walked to work. October was having fun settling on the city and making me cold.

It’s going to be a long winter.

I sighed as my stomach growled. And… I forgot to eat.

When I got to work I grabbed some sandwich bread from the back and munched on it as I talked to Paco.

Paco’s one of the cooks. He’s funny.

“Darl’, that bread will make you fat.”

I just giggled. “Paco, I’m lonely.”

“Well I’m not coming over to make you happy, what do you want me to do?”

I giggled again. See what I mean? Paco’s funny. “I don’t know. Give me advice.”

He sighed and put the green pepper he was cutting to the side. “Girl, you gotta work what you got. You know what I mean? I mean, I’ve seen the fine young men that come in here with their eyes all over your everywhere. Just let one take you home, warm you up, you know?”

Paco’s funny. It’s just too much.

“Okay, Paco. I’ll see you later.”

“And put down that bread girl. You don’t have no good job, you’re body’s all you got.” I giggled. I heard him mutter, “Oh Lord, that girl’s a hot mess,” as I walked to the front.

“Hey Charlie!” I called out.

“Hey, Layla, table for one.”

I led him to where he usually sits. “So, what’ll you have today?”

“I’d just like to apologize for the other day. I was probably acting really weird.”

I laughed. “It’s cool. I mean you did drop down a story onto my balcony.”

“Okay. I don’t really know how to explain that.”

“Really, it’s cool. So what do you want?”

He smiled. “How about a BLT on rye?”

I smiled. “Sure. You want some lemonade with that? It’s really good today.”

“Oh, I don’t like lemonade. Just a water, please.”

I looked at him oddly. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

That’s weird. He really was out of it when he... dropped in.

I worked the rest of the night. Some girl turned 21 and all of her friends joined her for a night out. Which meant good tips at one of the bar tables.

“Hey, guys, I hate to kick you out… after your party has ended, but we’re closing for the night,” I said to them. I always feel like a jerk saying that. Like, obviously, the dining room is already closed and cleaned. The bar is the only thing open. And even that we’ve turned the open sign off for by now.

The paid their checks, left their tips, and headed out. All except for one of them. “Hey, Paco, I’m headed out!” I yelled, slightly inebriated from the many shots that my customers had bought for me. Hey, it helps with the tips.

“You remember what I said, girl!” He yelled.

“Hey, Layla, right?” the guy asked. I looked down and took off my nametag.

“Uh, yeah. Do you need anything else? A cab?”

“Oh, no, I was just wondering if I could walk you home. Phil, remember?”

I nodded, then saw Paco staring intently at me. He raised an eyebrow and I inwardly groaned. “Oh, yeah. Which way are you headed?”

“Left out of here,” he said.

“Oh, me too.”

“Cool, so let’s go.”

The relatively short walk home was awkward. I don’t know whether I actually felt someone watching me, or if I just felt like I did.

“So, how do you like Baltimore?” he asked me.

“Oh, you know. It’s a city, like any city. It’s a dirty city, but it’s home. You?”

“It’s different from Atlanta. That’s where I moved here from. It’s kind of nice. The seasons here make sense, there’s no torrential downpours, you can walk around the city. I like it alright.”

“Yeah. I’ve been to Atlanta a few times. It’s… big. And hot.”

“That’s about right.” He laughed. “I really like Boston, though.”

“No, way! Me too! I remember when I was looking at schools, the one school I wanted to go to was Boston College.”

“Yeah? I’m working on getting into their Masters Program. I don’t know if they’ll ever accept me. I did the whole six years of college thing.”

“Yeah, but a lot of people do that.”

“I guess so. It’s just a tough program, you know? Are you in school?”

“No. I already graduated.”

“Oh? What happened? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“I got a degree in Journalism. Decided it was my passion and that I would make it work. I didn’t want to be one of the nosy ones that was trying to crack the biggest story. I just wanted to live in the city and write a few stories. Like reviews, or something. Meanwhile, newspapers around the country are shutting down.”

“I understand.”

“Well this is me. Thanks for walking me home. See you later, Paul?”

“Yeah,” he said, watching me ascend the steps. “Hey, Layla,” he cut in. “Can I… have your phone number?”

I bit my lip. “Sure,” I said.

I don’t know if I was imagining it or not, but I was really hoping that a certain pair of eyes wasn’t watching right now.