I hung up my apron on the hook, all my jobs done for the day. Larry had come in after school to wash the windows, mop the floors, and scrub down the restrooms. He came most days, working a couple hours doing odd jobs around the diner. I knew Bernie had found plenty of what he called “make-work” for the boy, hoping to help their family in the best way he could think of.
As a result, the diner had never been so clean or smelled so fresh.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I said to Bernie, headed for the back door.
“Hold up,” he called to me from the office. “Come have a seat in here for a minute.”
“Are you going to fire me or something?” I asked, standing in the doorway of the office.
“Nope,” he answered, pulling a deck of cards from the middle drawer of his desk. “Not today, at least.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” I said, laying the sarcasm on thick.
He pointed at the extra chair he had in the room. “Sit down.”
The cards were old and didn’t make a crisp sound when he shuffled them. It was more of a whisper. He tapped them against the desktop after each shuffle, paying close attention so he wouldn’t lose control of them, sending them flying across the room.
He dealt us each ten cards. “Gin rummy,” he said. “Every time you put down a set you say why you think being around Walt Vanderlaan is a good idea. Every time I do, I say why I disagree.”
“But I . . .” I began.
“You go first.”
I drew a card, adding it to my hand and discarding the two of diamonds. He picked up my two, putting the heart and club beside it and laying it on the table in front of him.
“He’s full of himself,” Bernie said before discarding a five of spades.
I drew off the pile, completing a run of clubs. “He’s smart.”
We drew, discarded, laid down cards, and gave our reasons.
Bernie had plenty. Walt didn’t go to church with his parents. He hadn’t found a job. He’d always caused trouble for his folks. Before he’d gone into the service he’d had a reputation for drinking too much. And on and on.
I couldn’t find nearly as many. He’d held the door for me at the movie theater and paid for my ticket. He thought I was funny. He said I was beautiful.
“Ha,” he said, going out with a set of threes. He rubbed his chin as if really trying to come up with a good one. He looked me straight in the eye and smirked. “David’s a better man.”
I couldn’t disagree with him. Not in the slightest.
Bernie picked up the cards, putting them back in their tidy stack and returning them to the desk drawer.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” I said. “But I don’t think you understand.”
“I don’t, huh?” He frowned and made a hm sound.
“I don’t feel anything for Walt other than friendship,” I said, putting my hands in my lap. “And I’m not even sure he’s all that good of a friend.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“I tried.”
“He wouldn’t listen, would he?”
I shook my head.
“You don’t owe him anything,” Bernie said, lowering his voice and resting his forearms on the table.
“Are you trying to be a father figure to me?”
“I’m your cousin, that would be impossible.”
“My third cousin,” I said.
“You’re splitting hairs.”
I stood and went to the door but turned before I left.
“You’d be a good father, you know.” I shrugged. “Maybe you should fit that into your schedule.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He swatted a hand at me. “I’ve got enough trouble trying to keep an eye on you.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Yup.”
I left out the back door and walked down the alley toward the main street in town, thinking of one reason I shouldn’t be around Walt that Bernie hadn’t mentioned.
He didn’t want to be with me, necessarily.
He just didn’t want to be alone.