S5 Episode Six: "Table for Two, Party of One"

Melody was excited. 

She and Lance would finally be going on a proper date… or at least she was hoping for as much this time. 

She knew he was busy with so many things, but he at least appeared to be trying to form a relationship. He just seemed… preoccupied most of the time or in a hurry to leave all of a sudden. 

This would be the fourth attempt at dinner in as many weeks. The first time, he’d cancelled three hours before with a text about a “work crisis.” The second time, they’d actually made it to appetizers before his phone buzzed and he had excused himself “for just a minute”. She had waited forty-five minutes before paying the bill and then leaving. The third time, he hadn’t shown up at all, calling the next morning with profuse apologies about a “family emergency” that he didn’t quite explain. 

His family didn’t even live in the city, so she wasn’t sure what to think about that one. 

She’d seen him briefly two days ago when he’d stopped by her apartment to apologize in person for the third missed date. He’d looked exhausted and had a set of nasty cuts healing across his cheekbone and jaw, explaining it was from an accident while at the gym. He seemed to be moving rather stiffly as well, moving carefully as if everything hurt, though he attempted to hide it. When she had reached out to touch his face in concern, he flinched slightly before catching himself. 

“It looks worse than it is,” he had said, giving her that small smile that always charmed her when it made its rare appearance. 

“I’m fine, just got a little clumsy.” 

But tonight felt different. 

He had been the one to suggest the date this time, had even asked her to choose the specific place she wanted to go. That had to mean something, right? That he was making another effort, trying to prioritize them? 

One of her coworkers had been much less optimistic when Melody mentioned it over lunch. 

“Girl, I’m just saying… seven months of this? Most guys who want to be with you actually show up.” 

“He has before… he has just been dealing with a lot,” Melody had defended, though even to her own ears it sounded weak. 

“He has a demanding job.” 

“So is mine. So is yours… yet we manage to have lives,” her coworker retorted, giving her that look: the one that was equal parts concern and exasperation. 

“And what is with all of the injuries you’ve said he has? First, it’s bruised knuckles, then he shows up with his arm in a sling for two weeks… and now cuts on his face? What kind of ‘work’ does he do again?” 

Melody had been wondering the same thing, but didn’t want to come across as paranoid. How could his job as an engineer at Midas Corp be so risky that he was constantly sustaining these injuries? She would have to take a look into it, maybe even talk to the management herself… 

“I just don’t want to see you keep getting hurt…” her coworker had added. 

But she didn’t see the way Lance looked at her when they did manage to spend time together. The way he actually listened when she talked about her day. The way he’d shown up at her family's apartment at midnight once with soup when she had mentioned she was feeling sick, despite how exhausted he looked himself. 

Her parents weren’t too crazy about that one, but allowed him to still give it to her. 

He cared. She knew he did, he was just… clearly going through something that he wasn’t ready to share. But wasn’t that what relationships were about? Being there even when things were complicated? 

Melody studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror, adjusting the silver earrings she’d worn on their very first date… back when things seemed so easy, so full of possibility. Her dark green dress brought out her icy blue eyes and she had actually managed to do something interesting with her hair for once. 

Tonight would be different… 

It had to be. 

Her phone buzzed on the counter. She glanced at it, her heart sinking slightly at Lance’s name on the screen, but then relief washed over her as she read the message. 

“Still on for 7:00? I’m looking forward to it.”

See? He was confirming. Not cancelling. Not making excuses. She smiled at herself in the mirror, grabbed her purse, and headed out. 

Giovanni's was exactly what she hoped for: warm lighting, classic brick walls decorated with vintage Italian posters, and the aroma of garlic and fresh bread that hit you immediately as you walk through the front door. Small enough to be intimate, yet busy enough so as to not feel like everyone was watching you. 

“Reservation for Shepherd,” Melody informed the hostess, a young woman with kind eyes who smiled as she checked her tablet. 

“Table for two?” she asked as she tapped on her device and looked back up.

The hostess looked at Melody, then beyond her, clearly looking for the second person for the reservation for two. 

“He is just running a bit behind I think,” Melody said, just as much to herself as to the hostess. 

“Right this way,” the woman said politely. 

The corner booth was perfect, tucked away from the main dining floor but in view of the door and a masterfully done painting,  centerpiece of the restaurant's decor. Melody slid into the booth, placing her phone face-down on the table. She was going to be present, positive, and give this evening every chance to be what they both needed. 

Unfortunately she was also in clear line of sight to an antique grandfather clock that showed it was seven on the dot… she knew she hadn't waited long for the table and even then Lance was already late…

“Can I start you off with something to drink? Or perhaps an appetizer?” inquired the server, who had seemed to materialize from thin air. Her name tag read: Jenna. 

“Just water for now, thank you… I'll wait for…” 

Melody caught herself. She was just about to say: “I'll wait for my date” but something about speaking those words out loud specifically made her feel she was tempting fate. 

“I'll wait a few minutes,” she finally said.

But when Jenna came back with the water and a complementary basket of breadsticks, and even circled back twice more, Melody went ahead and ordered a sparkling basil lemonade. 

7:04

Lance was typically more punctual, recent events aside. A few minutes shouldn't be anything to worry about. 

At 7:10, Melody checked her phone. No new messages. She was tempted to send one to him but decided to wait. 

At 7:15, she ordered the bruschetta. It was listed as an appetizer for two, but the breadsticks were gone and it would give her something to do besides slowly shred her napkin under the table. 

At 7:22, the couple in the nearby booth leaned across the table to kiss. Melody looked away, focusing very hard on one of the posters across the room as if to study every detail for a test. 

At 7:30, she ate the bruschetta alone, taking small bites and doing her best to ignore Jenna's increasingly sympathetic glances. 

Her phone lay silent on the table, its darkened screen reflecting the table's candlelight with a mocking flicker. 

By 7:40 she had constructed and discarded at least a dozen different scenarios… each more outlandish than the last but each one a situation where he would have contacted her… Would he claim yet another ‘work emergency’? Surely not, especially not tonight, not after everything… 

Unless… what if something had happened to him? What if he were hurt? There were a lot of incidents in the last few years that were definitely out of the ordinary. Should she be worried instead of angry? Was she a terrible person for being mad when he might be hurt? 

Or worse? 

He had been hurt quite often recently, it seemed. The cuts on his face, the way he was moving so carefully… What if something worse had happened? What if he were at the hospital and unable to call? 

But no… he would have managed a way, or someone else would have for him. There would have been a call were it that serious. 

She found herself with her thumb over his icon in her contacts, ready to dial, but unable to do so. 

At 7:45, before she could get herself to decide whether to call or not, her phone began ringing. 

“Lance” 

She almost cracked her screen with how hard she tapped it. 

“Melody, I'm so sorry….” 

“Where are you?” 

She tried to keep her voice level, but between Jenna's pitying looks and the couple in the next booth now sharing tiramisu her patience was worn out. 

“Something came up at work… an emergency… I tried to get away, but…” 

She couldn't believe it. 

“Work. At 7:45. On a Friday night,” her voice was flat. 

“I know how it sounds…” 

“Do you, Lance?” 

She looked around Giovanni's at the people around her, at the couples enjoying meals and uncomplicated time together. 

“From where I'm sitting I am starting to think that you don't understand… that you aren't actually interested in this. In US.” 

“That's not true, Melody. You have to believe me, I want to be there…” 

“Wanting to be here and actually being here aren't the same, Lance.” 

She felt hot tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She refused to cry in the restaurant. She would not give this evening that final indignity.

“I'm going home.” 

“Wait, don't… I can be there in twenty minutes… Just…” 

She hung up. 

She sat in silence, staring at her phone. She half expected, and even almost hoped, that it would ring again. When it didn't she wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or even more hurt. 

“Miss…?” Jenna approached gently. “Can I get you anything else, or would you like the check?” 

“Just the check please… and maybe a box for the bruschetta…” her voice came out more steady than she felt. 

She wasn't going to waste perfectly good bruschetta on top of everything else.