Word Count Day 6

16,953/50,000

Chapter 6

"I like breakfast." Allison grinned weakly, and raised her eyes to Sedgewick's.

"Okay," he said. "We'll, we'll do that." A half eaten cinnamon roll sat between them, evidence of how not very hungry either of them were. Allison was on her third cup of coffee and Sedgewick nursed his second cup of hot chocolate. He didn't drink coffee, and immediately felt stupid when they sat down together for coffee. Hot chocolate seemed like a reasonable alternative.

She called late Monday night. Sedgewick's light was still on, his book still open across the bed, but his mind was elsewhere. He'd read the same page so many times he'd lost count. The ringing phone startled him, and he dove for it before it woke his grandmother up.

"H-hello?"

"Sedgewick." Her voice sounded tense and tired, yet suddenly relieved at the same time. It had been a long impossible day for her, responsibilities that didn't care about death, and responsibilities induced by death. She couldn't stand being at home anymore, and they agreed to meet at Perkins, the usual late-night restaurant hangout.

Sedgewick threw on his jacket and headed for the door. He paused in the entryway and went back to write a note for his grandmother. He didn't usually leave her notes, but he didn't usually leave the house so late at night. It was almost 11, and he didn't think he'd be back very soon.

The Perkins shared a parking lot with the Cub where Sedgewick worked, so it was a short walk, 10-15 minutes depending on how quickly he moved. Once Sedgewick, Jimmie and Alex tried to grab lunch at Perkins during one of their half-hour breaks. It was a joke that turned into a 45-minute venture. It was a late night when they tried it, but the waitress wasn't in the mood to move quickly. She had dealt with too many funny college students who come in for a cup of coffee and something to munch on while they study late into the night and early into the morning. She didn't have time for a trio of blue collar clowns who wanted something more substantial than McDonalds for once. She was an older woman, with an incredibly cranky persona. Sedgewick never saw her smile the entire time they were there. She wasn't necessarily slow, but she wasn't interested in moving quickly for their benefit.

Sedgewick felt so guilty he left an enormous tip, something approaching 50 percent, and then worked a half hour late to make up for it. They were paid by the hour, so it didn't make that much of a difference. The quarter hour just would have come out of his paycheck. He'd even punched out seven minutes early, which is where the time clock rounds to the nearest quarter hour, so he wouldn't be paid 15 minutes of overtime, but it would work out to an even 8 hour shift with a little extra padding in the clock to assuage his conscience.

Sedgewick walked into the mostly empty restaurant and glanced around for Allison. He figured he probably beat her here, since she had to drive from the University. It would probably take about 20 minutes driving time.

The same cranky woman who served Sedgewick and his coworkers grabbed a menu and asked him how many. If she recognized him she didn't let on. Sedgewick mumbled two and she sighed, snatched another menu from the stack and lead him to a corner booth.

"Thank you," he said, louder than usual, and she huffed and sauntered off. Sedgewick flopped into the booth, sitting in the corner so he could keep an eye on the front entrance. He rested his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands. He wasn't sleepy, but he was tired.

"Hi." Sedgewick looked up to see those green eyes, deep and sad. She hesitated a moment, lingering there next to the table like she didn't know if she should sit down or not. Sedgewick pulled his elbows off the table and sat up, hoping he didn't look tired or exhausted. But he probably did.

"Do you want to…"

"I should sit…"

They spoke at the same time, both rushed and then suddenly trailing into silence together. Sedgewick stopped and smiled. Allison closed her eyes tight for a moment and then looked to the ceiling. She took her coat off and tossed into the booth, throwing herself down next to it.

"I'm sorry, you look tired and I probably shouldn't have called you so late and maybe we should just forget it…" Her voice trailed off again when Sedgewick reached out and touched her hand, lightly with his own.

"I-I'm glad you, you called."

"It's just that…"

"I know."

They sat in silence and the cranky waitress sped up to their booth, "Can I get you something?" There was nothing pleasant in her voice, but she wasn't particularly cruel either.

"Coffee," Allison said. The waitress turned to Sedgewick, and he stammered, "Umm, do you have, could I get a, uh… hot chocolate?"

"Anything else?" the waitress asked as she started to turn away.

"Wait, I'm hungry. I think. Do you have one of those big sticky cinnamon rolls?" Allison asked. The waitress didn't say anything but nodded every so slightly and took off for the kitchen.

"Hot chocolate sounds good."

Sedgewick smirked.

"I don't really drink coffee."

Allison laughed, then rubbed her eyes which were red from shedding tears of all kinds today. She set her hands on the table and looked at Sedgewick.

"So you invite me out for coffee and you don't drink coffee?" He smiled and looked down. He started trying to explain, but she cut him off.

"Coffee's not important. I know." Sedgewick's eyes held hers for a moment, a silent thanks.

It hadn't been more than a minute or two, but the waitress came back with a steaming cup of coffee and another of hot chocolate. She set them both down quickly, and Sedgewick watched his whip cream ride the waving chocolate up and down. She dropped a cinnamon roll in front of Allison and set a pot of coffee on the edge of the table. She walked off without saying anything.

"That was quick."

Allison doctored her coffee with cream and sugar while Sedgewick stirred his whip cream into his hot chocolate and took a few tentative sips. Allison unfurled her napkin, setting the paper ring on the table. She took her fork and cut off a small bite of the cinnamon roll.

"You can have some if you want. I'm not as hungry as I thought."

"Thanks."

Sedgewick unrolled his napkin and silverware, taking a moment to fold the paper ring into smaller and smaller squares. He left it sitting on the table, something his fingers could fiddle with when necessary.

They ate in silence. Both took small bites, one at a time, watching the other cut off small pieces from opposite sides of the roll. Sedgewick didn't know what to say, but he also knew that silence could be okay. Given the circumstances. But given other circumstances, silence was definitely not on the top of the agenda. That didn't usually go over well. The warring circumstances, the two completely different social events that found themselves inexplicably happening at the same moment lost Sedgewick. He didn't know what to do. So he took another bite of cinnamon roll.

"You need anything else?" The waitress had come back, speeding from the kitchen and stopping quickly at several tables. Sedgewick asked for another hot chocolate, and she brought it back almost immediately.

"One of those days, huh?" she asked, surprising both of them. Her efficiency didn't seem to allow for conversation. Sedgewick smiled.

"More like one of a kind," he answered. The waitress nodded and set the bill on the table.

"Let me know if you need anything else." That was her subtle way of saying she was finished serving them.

"One of a kind?" Allison asked when the cranky waitress left.

"My grandfather." Allison nodded. "H-he never liked saying a day was 'one of those days.' He thought, he thought it implied all days were, were somehow the same. And 'one of those days' days usually aren't so great."

Allison nodded. Today had been the farthest thing from a good day for her, but it did seem insulting to call the day her mother died one of those days.

"He thought every day, should—should be a new day."

"Well, today's been one of a kind."

"Yeah… I know. For me, too." Sedgewick grinned the tiniest bit and looked into her eyes. He looked down to the folded paper ring he'd been playing with, and then quickly back up to her and down again.

"Your grandfather… when did he—when did he die?"

"It was a long time ago. I was young, maybe six, and he died at home during the night."

Their eyes met again for a moment.

"I'm sorry."

Sedgewick nodded.

"Did you live with your grandparents?"

"I still live with my Gram. They took me and my brother in a long, long time ago. After everything, after it all happened."

Sedgewick took a long sip and Allison stopped asking questions. So much remained unspoken and silent, and in some ways it was easier that way.

"I should probably tell you now," Allison began. Her eyes settled on the table and maybe Sedgewick's hot chocolate, but she didn't look at him. "The funeral will be on Thursday… I know it's kind of awkward, having just met this morning, but…"

"I'll be there." Their eyes met and Allison smiled. A single tear rolled down her cheek, but she had shed so many that day she didn't even notice.

"So a stock boy, huh? How's that working out for you?" They both laughed, a little forced, but it was a laugh, and they consciously moved on.

Allison was a sophomore, the same year as Sedgewick. She studied social work, which is part of why she noticed Sedgewick holding Connor. She wanted to specialize in children and somehow help families. Sedgewick didn't have a major. He took a little bit of everything, undecided, but not exactly uncommitted. The art history classes he'd taken especially interested him, and he thought about doing something with art. But he hadn't taken a single art class yet.

Allison lived on campus, though her family lived in a suburb just north of the cities. Sedgewick wanted to know about her family, her parents and any siblings, but she grew quiet and he didn't want to push. It was getting late now, almost one in the morning.

"Maybe, maybe we can do this again, s-some time."

"I'd like that."

"It wouldn't have to be so, so… you know. I thought it might help."

"It did."

"It doesn't have to be—be coffee, either. We could get b-breakfast."

"I like breakfast." Allison grinned weakly.

"Okay. We'll, we'll do that."

They got up from the table and headed for the door, Sedgewick holding back a few steps to drop a $5 on the table. He paid at the register and held the door for Allison.