Memory Lane

Chapter Seventeen

Sorry for the wait! Crazy life schedule this past week. But, I hope you enjoy the update :)

"To be social is to be forgiving." - Robert Frost

Memory Lane: Chapter Seventeen

Jesse was right. There would have been no way for me to deny liking the food the restaurant had, because they had a mix of everything, and the portions are so large it's beyond comprehensible as to how they make a profit. Even though Jesse is close to 6'3" and must be somewhere close to double my (apparently too low) weight, his made up of mostly muscle, the portion of lamb and rice we got is so big we decided just to split it.

Since the place is only takeout, after ordering and getting our food, Jesse and I walk back down the sloping sidewalk along Main Street to find a spot to sit down and eat. We reach both of our cars and my footsteps stutter when he places the bag of food down on his truck and lowers the tailgate.

"This was your idea? To eat in the back of your truck?" I ask as the tailgate falls with a loud creak, echoing through the now quiet night.

Jesse easily hops up, sitting above the tire as he studies me.

"Is this okay? It's not the passenger seat and I'm not driving."

I respond by walking closer to the tailgate. Jesse stands back up and reaches out his hand to help me up, but I wave it off and get up on my own, standing now in the bed of the truck and taking a seat opposite him.

I study the back of the truck silently, shifting my butt to try and relieve the discomfort of sitting on such a skinny ledge.

"It could use a good cleaning," I say, eyeing the clumps of mulch and dirt stuck in the ridges on the floor. "And some cushions."

Jesse shrugs his agreement, reaching for our food to start opening it up. He empties half of the lamb and rice into the second tin bowl we asked for and reaches over to hand it to me.

"Thanks," I say, staring at the food. "So, is this your go-to meal after exerting so much energy not talking at the support group?"

Jesse snaps his eyes to mine, a tiny smirk playing at his lips. "You didn't talk either."

"This was my first time going. I plan on participating in the future."

"I don't find much to talk about," he says, moving his fork around his food as he picks up a bite. But then his smirk turns softer and his gray gaze finds mine. "I'm just glad to hear that you're going to keep coming back."

My heart suddenly feels like it's beating a bit too fast and I quickly divert my gaze down to my food, clearing my throat. "So, while you learn all the details about my parents, I won't get to learn about your dad?"

Jesse quirks a brow.

"You found out my parents died," I clarify, "meanwhile the only things I know about your dad is that he was a History Professor, played a lot of pool, and drank a particularly rare whiskey."

Jesse pauses just before he lifts his fork filled with rice to his mouth and slowly sets it down. "I'm sure you can figure out why two of those are things I never brought up."

I drop his stare and mull around my food with my fork, gnawing on my bottom lip. Of course I've considered why Jesse was so angered about the whiskey that Shay brought over. I can use my context clues.

The signs point to his dad being an alcoholic. But that's not a topic people can just throw around.

I finally lift a bite of food to my mouth, avoiding Jesse's eye. "I was trying not to assume things."