Table for Two by Marla Miniano Page A

should, if the fact that they are all
over the place means things are never really over between them.
    “Sometimes,” Gio admits. “The
thing is, I kind of wish it has always been Yas. I know this is hard for you to
believe because it’s only been weeks, but we’re serious about each other. She
gets me. But I don’t like having to explain to her that I was a completely
different person before I met her.”
    Mandy is surprised to hear this,
and because she and Gio have never really talked about their feelings , she tries to cover up the awkwardness. “ Completely different
person meaning asshole , right?”
    Gio laughs. “Hey, at least I’m
trying to be a better guy now.”
    Mandy laughs too. “Yeah, you were
pretty awesome back there, protecting Diane when Dude and Bro were insisting on
bringing her home. I think you may have even stood up for Penny at some point.”
    “I’m sorry I didn’t interfere
sooner,” Gio says.
    “Yeah, well, you did when you had
to,” Mandy tells him.
    They say goodnight, and Mandy is
left alone in the backseat. She wonders how it’s possible for Gio to be nearing
his happy ending while she is stuck somewhere in the middle of her story. She
doesn’t need much. She doesn’t need someone to change for her, the way Yas
does, or someone to challenge her, the way Penny does. She doesn’t even need
someone to take care of her, the way Diane does—she can very well take
care of herself. It’s the little things she needs someone for, like someone to
hold her hand at the end of a long day, or someone to watch stupid comedies
with, or someone to curl up with on the couch on a lazy Sunday morning as she
reads the newspaper and eats her cereal. Which probably means she doesn’t
“need” someone in the strictest sense, although at the end of a long day, or
while watching a stupid comedy, or on a lazy Sunday morning, having someone
would be very much appreciated.
    A few minutes later, the driver
parks the car in Diane’s driveway, and Mandy has to get out, fish Diane’s keys
from her bag, get her into bed, place a glass of water and some aspirin on her
bedside table, and make sure she’ll be okay. She thinks she hears Diane say thank you before she closes the door, but she can’t be certain.
By the time Mandy is sitting in the car again, she is exhausted and a bit
resentful: tonight did not turn out to be a good night, and she
feels cheated. She checks her watch. There is still time, and maybe there is
still hope. The driver asks where she wants to be dropped off. “Ma’am, maaga pa, ” he says, and Mandy can’t tell whether he’s being
sarcastic or sympathetic. Then she remembers—there is a small coffee shop
nearby, the one in between the Korean grocery and the appliance service center.
Whatever remains of the night, she can spend there.

6
     
     
     
    Lucas sits alone , as
usual. He has grown so accustomed to being alone that perhaps his loneliness
suits him, fitting into his life the way hustle and bustle fit into other
people’s. He’d like to believe he can be alone and not look like it’s the last
thing in the world he wants to be. He’d like to believe he can be alone and look
as if he belongs somewhere, like the girl who just walked into the café.
    He thinks she looks familiar, but
he can barely place how or why. And then she takes a seat near the counter,
brings out a book from her bag, and starts reading, and he remembers. She used
to be here all the time, absorbed in a novel whose title he was never near
enough to see, her eyebrows knitted in concentration as she flipped page after
page. That was more than a year ago. She would lose herself in the story
(sometimes, he’d even catch her smiling), until the door opened and disrupted
her peace. Every time someone entered the café, she would glance up, and her
forehead would wrinkle with disappointment almost immediately after. When there
have been too many interruptions, she would stop reading altogether. He used