Eric adjusted his uniform for the twentieth time and looked, in what he thought was a casual way, behind the counter of the cafe. His knee bounced frantically without his knowing under the little round table where he sat with his partner, Ray. Ray mumbled to himself loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear while stroking his goatee and looking intently at his phone. It was a bit late for lunch but the place was still packed and Eric didn’t notice any of it. He watched Ophelia intently as she worked behind the counter. She put down two plates of food and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her left ear. Eric chuckled, amused at how this one rogue piece always managed to escape the elastic band that kept the other fiery locks bound up in a ponytail. She turned his direction and he looked away, suddenly overcome with interest in the painting that hung on the far wall. After a few moments of hard study, he looked back.
Alright, any minute now, he thought to himself, our food has got to be up soon. He pictured her calling their names and him walking confidently up to the counter. She would smile at him and he would say. Dang it, he had forgotten. Stupid, Stupid, He thought, Come on you have been planning this for a week, and you talk to her all the time. You and Ray are in here like every other day. Just ask her out. It’s simple. You have been a paramedic for almost a year now and deal with much more stressful things all the time. Besides, don’t you and she get along so well when you and Ray sit up at the counter? Talking like old friends. She turned again and he saw the unfinished tattoo of the ship in a storm with a mermaid on its anchor that covered the majority of her upper arm. Come on Eric, A dark part of him chided, of course she is nice to you, she works for tips. No girl as cool as her would be interested in you. This is going to go badly, and you will never hear the end of it from Ray when you have to find a new place to eat.
Oh shut up, The more optimistic side of Eric’s brain chimed in, She likes you and you know it. So what if you chickened out last time, and the time before. This is your moment. She will love going to that book signing with you. You both talk about how you love that author’s writing. Besides, at least this way you will know. Eric took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. This was it, any time now their sandwiches would come up and he would do it. However, deep in his heart, he doubted if he could muster this much courage again should he fail. Ophelia walked into the back right before Eric saw two plates appear in the kitchen window. His heart started to race. Now was the time, she would come back out and… A high pitch tone sounded from the radios on both his and Ray’s hips.
“EMS 7, please respond code three to 85 White Pine Dr. for shortness of breath.”
The dispatcher repeated the message and Eric’s heart sank knowing that they would have to leave immediately. Ray spoke a few curt words into the radio as Eric looked desperately behind the counter, but saw no sign of Ophelia. Springing up, Ray downed the last of his soda and turned to leave.
“Come on are you deaf?” he said when he noticed that Eric hadn’t moved a muscle, “We gotta go.” Eric begrudgingly stood and followed Ray to the door. At the threshold he paused to cast one last hopeful glance over his shoulder. The cafe was crowded and bustling, but among the myriad of faces Ophelia was nowhere to be seen. Eric hauled himself into the passenger side of the boxy orange and white ambulance in a huff. They pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street before Ray fired up the lights and sirens and hit the gas. As the sudden burst of acceleration pushed him deep into the seat, Eric starred out the window blankly. Clenching his right fist in frustration down by his leg, so that Ray wouldn’t see.
The call turned out to be a false alarm, but was followed right away by an overdose and then a car wreck that required a lengthy extrication. Chest pain, a dog bite, and another overdose lined up one after the other as the afternoon turned to evening, which gave way to night. Eric tried to lose himself in his work. The job demanded his full attention and that’s what it got. However, in the little gaps between runs, when he was restocking the truck or hanging out at the ER with the other paramedics, she inevitably found her way back into his thoughts. Anxiety followed the images of her and he was desperate to get back to the cafe and ask her out before his built up determination seeped away. Their last call went badly, sometimes you simply get there too late. Eric was feeling defeated as they left the hospital and drove out into the dark city.
“Man I’m beat,” Ray said in an annoyingly upbeat mood, then checked the clock on the dashboard, “Oh, if we hurry we can grab some grub before they close for the night.” Eric stiffened in his seat as once again a storm of things to say to Ophelia swirled in his head. The parking lot was empty when they pulled up with but a minute to spare before closing time.
“Hey Ray, I thought you had forgotten all about us.” the manager called when she spotted them come through the cafe’s front door.
“One of those days Carol, one of those days,” replied Ray casually, “I didn’t think we would ever get back here and I am starving.” The kitchen was dark and the last server working was putting chairs up on tables so that he could sweep. Eric looked around the restaurant that seemed so small and quiet now that it was empty, but could not find Ophelia. He looked back and forth as if he might have somehow missed her in this room that he knew so well. Nothing, the soft scrape of the broom and Ray’s droning chatter were the only things there. He wanted to ask the server if she was still around but could not bring himself to do it. The back door banged open and Eric snapped his head around wishing to see her walking in and smiling at him. Instead he saw the cook lugging in a nearly bursting bag of trash from the kitchen, and his shoulders slumped. Ray took a brief pause in his monologue at which time the manager grabbed a grease-stained paper bag from the counter and held it in front of her.
“Oh, we saved your sandwiches and wrapped them up for you,” she said in a tone that perfectly conveyed, we are genuinely glad you came back, but wish you would leave so that we can all go home, “and threw in all the chips that didn’t get sold today so you should have plenty.”
“That is just the best, I do love y’all’s homemade potato chips. This is perfect, I think I have just enough energy left to scarf this down before I pass out.” Ray laughed as he took the bag from the manager, “Come on Eric let’s get out of these folks hair and try to get some sleep. You guys have a good night.” With that he turned and walked out. Eric took one last look around and said a less than enthusiastic goodnight before following Ray out to the ambulance. He was despondent, the adrenaline, heartbreak, and unresolved anticipation of the day had left him weary to his bones. His mind was fried, and he cursed to himself as he contemplated the cold, and most assuredly soggy, corned beef sandwich in his future. Back in the ambulance, Ray handed Eric the bag and told him to go on and get the food out while he got them underway. Eric obliged, digging through the mound of chips to grab their meals. Each sandwich was wrapped in white paper and had their names written gracefully on top with a blue pen. This was hardly necessary as Ray’s sandwich was fully three times as thick as Eric’s. Eric thought it a bit strange because the staff at the cafe had never done this before, but the question proved fleeting and he tossed Ray his then got to work on his own. When he unwrapped the sandwich he discovered a folded slip of paper resting on top of the rye bread. Tilting his head with curiosity, Eric opened it. Parts of the paper were soaked with grease from the chips and had become translucent. However, he could still make out the words written with a smooth flowing hand in blue ink.
Hey!
I Hope that you are having a good day running around saving
the city. I just wanted to say that I really enjoy chatting with you
when you come in and was wondering if I could buy you a drink
sometime. Txt me if you would like to.
Ophelia
555-6538
Eric beamed and his pulse quickened. He read the note again and again. Taking in each word with growing excitement.
“What are you grinning so big about?” Ray asked with a raised eyebrow and a sideways glance.
“Oh, nothing.” Eric replied, “It’s just a good day” Then he refolded the note carefully and put it in his pocket before taking a bite of the most delicious sandwich he ever tasted.
Just One Quick Story 