“Mang, I’m hungry,” said Tom. “Can we go get some food?”
“Sure,” said Alice. “What do you want to eat?”
“Mexican sounds great.”
And so a few minutes later, the overloaded Focus pulled into the parking lot of El Chikis restaurant. Tom hoisted himself out of the car and led the group to the door. The restaurant was packed.
“There’s a 45-minute wait for a table,” said the young hostess to the group in front of them, trying hard not to stare at Tom while she wrote down their name and party size. Tom caught her eye and smiled while flexing his muscular arm.
“Hi,” said Alice, “we’d like a table for…”
“For four, right? Just give me a moment to have it cleared,” the hostess replied as she winked at Tom. Alice turned to Tom with an annoyed look on her face, but they took their seats without any conflict, Tom wedging his huge body under the colorful table.
Alice, Matt, and Steve ordered small plates since they’d already eaten. The waiter looked at Tom.
“Me trae un super burrito mojado con doble pollo, una quesadilla, y un plato tampiqueño, por favor?” said Tom.
“De inmediato,” replied the waiter.
Eyebrows flew up all around the table.
“Since when do you speak Spanish? You tried to learn two years ago and sounded like Mayor Bloomberg on downers,” said Steve.
“And why did you order so much food?” asked Matt. “A huge wet burrito with double meat, a quesadilla, a steak, and an enchilada??”
“I don’t know why I speak Spanish, I just do. I guess it’s part of what came with this body. And I’m hungry—look at me!”
Alice chuckled. “It’s expensive enough to feed an 18-year-old,” she said, “let alone one the size of you! Thank God you have a good job.” She rubbed Tom’s thigh under the table.
Tom, his hormones all akimbo, leaned over and gave her a deep kiss. There was a moment of awkward tension before the waiter returned with chips, salsa, and drinks. Tom swallowed hard and tried to think unsexy thoughts to control the monster of a rager he had going on.
“So when DO you go back to work, dad?” asked Matt.
“Matt, it’s gonna look weird to have you call me that. We’re almost the same age physically. In public, call me Nick, okay?”
“You mean Tom?”
“I mean… oh, yeah. Tom. Or Nick. Either one, bro. And they said there’s no reason for me to take more time off. I don’t need to recover. So I’m thinking I’ll go back in the morning and see how it goes. They already know what happened.”