The Stranger

This entry is for Writers Island.

Our order would be taken by an old waitress with thick glasses, always wearing the same blue green apron over white shirt and skirt with white sneakers. She would write down our order while diving her face into the writing pad. He would have a burger sandwich, medium rare with black coffee. And I would get my well done with curly fries and strawberry milkshake. Sometimes diet Coke when it rains. He rarely changes his order. At the Blue Cafe near my house is where we have our lunch day. Every Saturday unless something comes up.

We would chat about our day-to-day but mostly we would end up barely talking. How the minutes just ticks by so slowly, so unimportant with each of us silently chewing our food while trying to think up things to say. I would awkwardly twirl my strand of blond hair around my finger. He would check his watch now and then.

I would sometimes study his face for signs of something to say. Those rugged lines upon his face would change each time I see him. Those same blue green eyes would dart back and forth between my shoulders and my cheeks and sometimes my eyes for just a second or two. The thin lips that would speak slowly and softly. An hour and half every lunch date but very little gets said.

Words would fall out of our mouths, sometimes lingering in the air, resting on the diner table where all our conversations would fall. Any meaningful words we might say would slip away silently as soon as they came.

We would said goodbye with no more than a handshake and few exchanges. "Goodbye, Maddie, see you next week" he would say. And my reply would be, "Bye, Dad." No hugs or any lingering looks. People who sees us would think we were total strangers who just met. And in fact that was sort of true. We had just met again last year but only recently started these lunch dates. "To get to know you better, Maddie," he said when he first suggested the idea. I would smile knowing that's what I wanted. He is still a stranger to me but in time, I will think of him as my father who never left.