The Mathematics of Love Triangles
Designer Smile
Within moments, I had fallen fast asleep. The seats in Robin's car were more comfortable than my own bed, and if I didn't know better, I'd think we weren't moving. One of my favorite things about Robin's character was that he didn't do simplicity. Though I definitely couldn't complain about my own benefits from his luxurious tastes, I was far more attracted to what those tastes said about Robin as a person. He was an all-or-nothing kind of guy; "good enough" wasn't good enough for him.
Later, how much later I wouldn't have known, I was roused from my deep slumber by the sounds of a bustling city.
"Lindsae?" I heard Robin saying.
I tried to reply, but it mostly came out in the form of an unintelligible groan.
"You feel like getting something to eat, sweetheart?"
I gave a sort of affirmative response, then asked, "Are we there yet?"
"No," he replied.
"Where are we?"
He sighed. "Do you want me to spoil the surprise?"
"No," I said, but all I had to do was take a peek out my window. We were in St. Louis, which meant we were headed in a general southwest direction. Ideas immediately began to form in my head about where we might be going, but I pushed them away. Robin was right after all; I didn't want the surprise spoiled.
As he began to pull into the parking lot of a place whose exterior was fantastically ornate and the interior likely even more so, I objected, "We can't eat here. I'm wearing sweats; I'll stick out like a sore thumb."
"You look fine to me," he insisted, kissing my forehead.
So we went inside, Robin in the same nice clothes he wore to work, and me in sweatpants and a tank top, my hair a tangled mess and my face bare of makeup. The place was almost empty; after all, it was early in the morning and they had probably just opened. The few faces inside the restaurant attentively followed Robin and me—particularly me—glaring down at us with much distaste and ultimately making me feel rather uncomfortable. Robin tried to make conversation while we waited for our orders to be taken, but I was too nervous to contribute much. I just sat fidgeting awkwardly with my hands in my lap, staring down at my menu but not really reading it, for what seemed like hours before our waiter finally came.
"Good morning," he said amiably, flashing a designer smile. He was about my age, tall, built, and blonde; he looked vaguely like the guys I had striven to impress in my early adolescence. Still, somehow, he seemed out of place here, although I wasn't in any place to say so. "Are you ready to order?"
After Robin made his order, the waiter said, "And for your daughter?"
Robin and I exchanged glances. I struggled not to laugh as Robin ordered for me.
"Okay," said the waiter. "It'll be ready soon."
But it wasn't. Just as Robin and I were preparing to make a break for it, our waiter came back to our table empty-handed.
"Sorry, guys," he said. "There's a bit of a hold up in the kitchen. Doesn't make much sense since there's no one here, but either way, I can't do anything about it."
"It's fine," Robin said, settling back into his chair. "We can wait."
"It really shouldn't be too much longer," he assured us. "Sorry again to hold you guys up." I thought those should have been his last words to us until he brought our food, but they weren't. "So you're from out of town."
"How'd you know?" Robin asked.
"Your car has a Wisconsin license plate," he explained. "I can hear Wisconsin in your accent. I just put two and two together."
Robin nodded. "We're from Madison. Just passing through here on our way."
"On your way where?"
Robin motioned for the waiter to come closer. He leaned in, and Robin whispered into his ear, covering his mouth with one hand.
The waiter's eyes widened slightly as he stood up. He looked at me and smiled, showing off his pretty teeth. "Lucky gal."
I smiled back awkwardly, then looked away, blood filling my cheeks. I could feel Robin's eyes burning into me with suspicion.
"Well, I had better go back and see if things are moving along," the waiter said. "Excuse me."
He stalked off, leaving Robin and me to our uneasy silence.
Later, how much later I wouldn't have known, I was roused from my deep slumber by the sounds of a bustling city.
"Lindsae?" I heard Robin saying.
I tried to reply, but it mostly came out in the form of an unintelligible groan.
"You feel like getting something to eat, sweetheart?"
I gave a sort of affirmative response, then asked, "Are we there yet?"
"No," he replied.
"Where are we?"
He sighed. "Do you want me to spoil the surprise?"
"No," I said, but all I had to do was take a peek out my window. We were in St. Louis, which meant we were headed in a general southwest direction. Ideas immediately began to form in my head about where we might be going, but I pushed them away. Robin was right after all; I didn't want the surprise spoiled.
As he began to pull into the parking lot of a place whose exterior was fantastically ornate and the interior likely even more so, I objected, "We can't eat here. I'm wearing sweats; I'll stick out like a sore thumb."
"You look fine to me," he insisted, kissing my forehead.
So we went inside, Robin in the same nice clothes he wore to work, and me in sweatpants and a tank top, my hair a tangled mess and my face bare of makeup. The place was almost empty; after all, it was early in the morning and they had probably just opened. The few faces inside the restaurant attentively followed Robin and me—particularly me—glaring down at us with much distaste and ultimately making me feel rather uncomfortable. Robin tried to make conversation while we waited for our orders to be taken, but I was too nervous to contribute much. I just sat fidgeting awkwardly with my hands in my lap, staring down at my menu but not really reading it, for what seemed like hours before our waiter finally came.
"Good morning," he said amiably, flashing a designer smile. He was about my age, tall, built, and blonde; he looked vaguely like the guys I had striven to impress in my early adolescence. Still, somehow, he seemed out of place here, although I wasn't in any place to say so. "Are you ready to order?"
After Robin made his order, the waiter said, "And for your daughter?"
Robin and I exchanged glances. I struggled not to laugh as Robin ordered for me.
"Okay," said the waiter. "It'll be ready soon."
But it wasn't. Just as Robin and I were preparing to make a break for it, our waiter came back to our table empty-handed.
"Sorry, guys," he said. "There's a bit of a hold up in the kitchen. Doesn't make much sense since there's no one here, but either way, I can't do anything about it."
"It's fine," Robin said, settling back into his chair. "We can wait."
"It really shouldn't be too much longer," he assured us. "Sorry again to hold you guys up." I thought those should have been his last words to us until he brought our food, but they weren't. "So you're from out of town."
"How'd you know?" Robin asked.
"Your car has a Wisconsin license plate," he explained. "I can hear Wisconsin in your accent. I just put two and two together."
Robin nodded. "We're from Madison. Just passing through here on our way."
"On your way where?"
Robin motioned for the waiter to come closer. He leaned in, and Robin whispered into his ear, covering his mouth with one hand.
The waiter's eyes widened slightly as he stood up. He looked at me and smiled, showing off his pretty teeth. "Lucky gal."
I smiled back awkwardly, then looked away, blood filling my cheeks. I could feel Robin's eyes burning into me with suspicion.
"Well, I had better go back and see if things are moving along," the waiter said. "Excuse me."
He stalked off, leaving Robin and me to our uneasy silence.