Read Online The Weight of Blood by Laura McHugh - Free Book Online

to keep talking, but I grabbed a rag and made myself busy cleaning tables until Judd called the order up. I served Carl’s food and carried the last of the dirty trays to the kitchen, squeezing past Judd as he left for the night. I’d started to scrape the contents of the trays into the trash when I realized just how hungry I was. We’d been too busy earlier for meal breaks, and I didn’t feel like fixing anything now that we were so close to closing. Plenty of times at IHOP, I’d snatched bites of food while busing tables—kids were always leaving pancakes untouched or stacking bacon and sausage to the side in finicky piles. I picked up a half-eaten burger and took a bite from the clean side. The door swung open, and Carl walked in as I stood eating out of the bus tub.
    He stopped and stared, and I burned with embarrassment, my mouth stuffed full. “I was just gonna get some more pickles,” he said, reaching toward the cooler. I turned back to the sink and ran water until I heard the door swing closed. I hoped he wasn’t going to tell Crete I was eating the trash. It wasn’t like I was stealing; it was just going to be thrown out anyway. I made sure I was alone, and I took another bite.
    I cleaned everything I could think of in the kitchen, hoping Carl would be gone by the time I came out. But he wasn’t. “Anything else you need me to do, Gabby?” I asked.
    â€œNo,” she said, not bothering to check my work. “You did great. You can go on home. Now hurry up so I can leave,” she told Carl, slouching on the counter next to him.
    â€œI need to start coming in earlier,” Carl said, one burger still on his plate, “so I can actually finish my food.”
    I hung up my apron and left the two of them to their friendly bickering, mentally calculating the tips in my pocket. The air outside was slightly less stifling than it had been inside. Crete’s truck wasn’t in the parking lot, and I wasn’t sure if I should wait for him or start walking. It wasn’t too far to the farm, maybe a few miles, but I was worn out. I could see the river edged by a wide, rocky beach on the other side of the road and wondered how it would feel to wade in, sink down into the clear, cool water, and let it bear my weight.
    â€œHey.”
    Carl stood next to me, close enough that I could smell the sweat and dust that covered him. He held out a paper sack.
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œI … It’s a burger.”
    I glared at him.
    â€œLook, I didn’t mean to embarrass you—”
    â€œI’m not embarrassed.”
    â€œGabby figured you ate before your shift. She said next time—”
    â€œYou told her? Are you trying to get me fired?”
    â€œNo, I … I just thought you might be hungry.”
    â€œNot anymore.” I walked over to one of the benches in front of the store and sat down. My feet hurt. Actually, my whole body hurt.
    Carl came over and leaned against the wall next to me. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said.
    I could tell that he meant it. And really, he didn’t have anything to be sorry for. He’d only been trying to help me out. “It’s okay,” I said. “No big deal. It’s just been a long day.” I took off my shoes and checked for blisters.
    â€œI can give you a ride if you want. I’m heading over to Crete’s.”
    â€œThanks,” I said. “I think I’ll just wait.”
    â€œOkay.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” He started toward his truck, then turned around. “I didn’t mean that in a weird stalker sort of way, just that I always eat here, and … I’ll stop talking now.” He grinned, and I couldn’t help smiling back at him.
    Just then Crete pulled up and stepped out of his truck. “Sorry I’m late,” he said to me. “Hope you