What You Leave Behind by Jessica Katoff Read Free Book Online Page A

“Lunch—burgers and fries for me and Mom. One can only last so long on deli meats, it seems. And, you may be shocked to know that the fine establishment of Meat and Eat only sells raw ground beef.”
    “Well, I’ll be damned. Miss Harper Reed is back in business, huh?” Austin smirks grandly and claps a congratulatory hand on her back. His fingers rest against her sweater just a second longer than he knows they should, but Harper just smiles over at him. If she notices his lingering touch, she doesn’t seem to mind it. Austin tries not to be encouraged by this and deliberately pulls his hand away. He sucks roughly on the filter of his cigarette, exhales the smoke in a hurried stream, and keeps talking, anything to shift his attention from touching her. “She sent that jackass, Kevin, over once or twice, but we all know no one fetches lunch quite like you do, little lady.” Harper makes a face at him, one with a sideways glance and pinched lips that tells him she isn’t amused, and he raises his hands, palms facing toward her in defeat. “I’m glad you’re back, helping her. And I’m sure she is, too. I offered to come in on my lunch breaks and help serve or whatever, but she shooed me out of the shop, butcher knife in hand. I think she associates me with—well, with—you know.”
    “Yeah.” The conversation drops into a lull and Harper quietly swings her feet back and forth against the wall as she watches Austin finish his cigarette in her periphery. “Well, she seemed pretty hungry, so I should, uh, I should get inside.” Harper crooks a thumb toward the door of the pub and stands, and Austin immediately gets to his feet to pull the door open for her. “Thanks,” she says quietly, stepping past him into the threshold.
    “Wait—do you want to, um, will you grab a drink or—would you meet me for a drink tonight?” he stammers, not knowing where or when he found his nerve and lost his cool. She stares at him blankly for a moment and then bites her bottom lip, deeply contemplative, as if everything in the world is riding on her answer. For Austin, it is. But then he remembers their situation, their mutual heartbreak, how poorly their last meeting ended, and he clears his throat as his shoulders sag in defeat. “I mean, if you don’t want to or can’t or whatever, that’s fine and I understand. No pressure, Harp. I know how—”
    “No, no, I’ll—just maybe not here? There’s too much of him here, and I’m—I’m done with him. New places, new memories.” Harper stops Austin with her words and her fingers as she barely gripping his forearm. The warmth of his skin startles her. She’s swathed in cotton and thick wool and he’s in an A-shirt and threadbare flannel, yet his skin burns electric beneath her hand. Like the brightness of his eyes, she wonders if he’s always been this way and she just hasn’t noticed. She tries to think of all the other times she’s touched him—years of high fives, friendly half-hugs, brushes of shoulders or elbows or hands in passing—but none of the times stand out to her. She can only think of his hands on hers in the pub so many nights ago, but all she remembers is the not unpleasant roughness of them. Slowly, she pulls away and it’s like watching a candle burn out, a few hesitant flickers, then nothing at all. Tilting her head toward the inside of the pub, she says, “I should go. Meet me behind the shop at close?” Austin nods, his anticipation barely contained behind his broad smile. Harper smiles almost shyly in return and ducks inside, the heavy wooden door thumping closed behind her as Austin releases his hold.
     
    By the time Harper returns with plastic takeout boxes and Styrofoam cups nearly tumbling out of her grasp, the lunch rush has mostly ended, but she and Hilary take turns eating, just in case the crowd picks up again. Though he’s worked there nearly as long as Harper, Kevin still can’t be trusted to handle a full-on rush by