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A simple bell above the door signaled Trev’s arrival, and a meaty aroma with something sweet and herbal greeted him just before the restaurant’s staff.
“Welllll, who do we have here! What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Linda asked, hand resting on a popped hip and leaning towards the bartender who had shimmied his way onto the stool furthest from the door.
“Oh, uhhh…” He glanced back the way he came. It had finally slowed down enough for him to get a meal break, but he left the remains of someone’s wrong order for a busboy, not really interested in taking his half-hour at Pesto’s Pizzeria. “Food mostly.”
“Reeeeaaallly?” Linda’s eyes narrowed, suspicion pouring off her in waves. “And you’re not here on a little recon? A little burger busting? Trying to get our secret recipes?”
Like an alarm Trev couldn’t hear went off, Linda shuffled to the side and peered over her shoulder. Seconds later, Bob exited the kitchen, door swinging behind him.
“The ingredients aren’t really all that… secret,” Bob said, halfheartedly pointing at the burger board with Sweet Chive of Mine Burger scrawled on it (comes with a sweet relish and chives). “It’s kind of obvious, Lin.”
“No, I know, but I’m antsy. You and Jimmy’s last peeing contest-"
“Pis-"
“Shush. Your last peeing contest managed to get Gretchen all worked up, and now my roots are suffering for it.” Mournful sigh escaping her, she fluffed the ends of her hair. “All because you wanted to throw things…”
“He started it!” Bob defended. “Who pretends to be sick in another man’s restaurant? A crazy person, that’s who.”
“You sound just as crazy, you know? When you get worked up and go all squeaky, like a friggin’ dog toy over here. A Bob toy.”
“Haaa, Bob toy, good one,” Trev chimed from his stool.
Seeming to remember they weren’t alone, their attention snapped to the unusual customer.
“Hmm.” Bob sniffed. “She could do better.”
“You wish I would waste my better material on you, Mr. Pun Buns,” Linda said, pushing at her husband’s shoulder and throwing him off balance enough that he stumbled.
“Watch it, Mrs… Shoves… A Lot- dammit!”
She threw her head back and laughed at his failed attempts to be witty on the spot, all the while he tried to blame her for distracting him. Linda only grinned, laying a hand on his shoulder and pulling herself up to kiss his still frowning face.
Averting his eyes would be polite, Trev reasoned but it seemed impossible to look away from the couple.
Even as the goading continued, they gravitated towards each other, Linda finding reasons to keep poking, to keep touching Bob. It was a kind of dance, and if she poked, moved, or swayed her hips one way, he followed, steps only a little behind her and his gaze never straying.
The habitual nature of the dance spoke a simple truth: they loved each other.
Suddenly, with a knot in his stomach, Trev found the will to break his stare.
“Sorry about this, hon,” Linda finally offered with a sigh, bringing their bickering to an end. “We’ve been in a mood all day after the toaster gave us attitude at breakfast. Here, let me run down to the basement and get a special menu to make up for it.”
“If you keep saying that, people are going to think we have specials. It’s not a special menu,” Bob called after his wife, but she had already darted away. With a grunt, he explained to Trev. “The print company sent us menus with a typo that she thinks is hilarious.”
“Clerical errors, nice," Trev snorted. "What, did it cost you money to have them reprinted? Have to pay extra in shipping fees?”
Bob’s eyebrows furrowed, more confused than offended. “Mm. Is that a real question or are you trying to insult me?”
“You’re not insulted?”
“Not really, no.”
If possible, Trev deflated even more than when he first entered the restaurant. He tried to whip up a comeback, something that might earn him a zoom for once, but nothing came out.
“Ahhh,” he groaned. He smoothed at a wrinkle on his signature dark green shirt. “I’m not good at jokes like Jimmy.”
“Jimmy’s jokes aren’t good. You know that, right? Trev, they’re bad jokes.”
“No, I think they- sometimes, he’s got some…” His frown deepened. “Maybe you’re right. Things aren’t the same. Used to, he would tell a hilarious joke and we’d high five, but lately-"
Both of Bob’s hands came up, halting the words spilling out. “Hold on, maybe you should wait for Linda. This is more her speed.”
“This?”
“Helping… you. Or anybody. She’s great at that. Well, she’s good at it. Maybe a little much sometimes, but, you know… she’s great.”
Eager to please as always, Trev only nodded and let the silence envelop them as they waited for Linda.
Bob looked back into the kitchen; Trev tapped at the counter.
Bob shuffled his feet; Trev whistled.
Bob hummed; Trev sighed.
“It’s just that-"
“Oh, god.”
“-I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” Trev said over the groaning.
“Wrong?” Bob once again checked Linda’s reinforcement but no pop of red appeared to save him.
“Yeah, with Jimmy.” He reached for a drink that he didn’t have before pulling back. His fingers switched from tapping to flexing in random intervals. “It’s not like you and Linda, you know?”
“Well, we’re married, so it might have something to do with that. Also, he’s your boss. And a jerk.”
While the urge to defend Jimmy welled up, Trev tamped it down, Bob and Linda circling each other still replaying in his mind.
“I don’t- but what was it like before you two were married? Did you two pick on each other then too?”
Huffing, Bob seemed to finally give up on checking the basement door. He assessed Trev, scratching at his chin in thought. He let his shoulders drop.
“Sometimes. Usually her more than me. I was still in shock that she wanted to go out with me.”
“Ha, she settled.”
“She really did,” Bob agreed. “But picking on each other… it happens over time. It’s about trust. I trust her more than I trust myself, so even if things get heated, I know we… love each other. Because we do. If someone’s not building that trust, then they’re probably not worth it.”
Trev shrugged with one shoulder. “… Probably.”
Ignoring his dry throat, he let them sit again in the silence. For a minute. Maybe twenty seconds. “What if Linda wanted to do something you didn’t want? But it would make her happy?”
“You mean every day of my life?”
“That’s not-" more tapping at the counter, “-I don’t know, emasculating to you?”
“Mmm, no. Maybe. It doesn’t really matter.”
Rolling his wrist, Bob continued, looking at the ground as his memories took him away. “When I met Linda, I- I realized how happy I could be. If things get out of hand, it doesn’t- there’s always a chance to recover. More important though is that I haven’t stopped… being happy. She does that to me.” Bob sniffed, taken aback by his own thoughts and blinking rapidly. “She’s amazing.”
He cleared his throat, just as Linda’s footsteps echoed from the stairs. She seemed to already be in the middle of a conversation with herself, her sing-song voice leading the way.
“Tada!” Linda yelled, brandishing a menu above her head. “Welcome to Boob’s Burgers!”
Trev giggled as the menu landed in front of him, the double “o” in bold font immediately catching his eye.
“Oh man, the kids must have been playing with these. They took foreeeever to find! What did you two get up to?” Linda eyed the empty counter. “Clearly nothing about drinks, huh?”
“Sorry, Lin. I forgot that I have to be the cook and man the counter simultaneously.”
“Yeah, well try to keep that in mind next time,” she said, smirking as she went to fill up a water cup for Trev. “I’m not gonna always be here to save you, ya know.”
“I know.”
Even with their back and forth, they moved around each other. Made space for each other. Enjoyed each other in a way that only people in love could.
“Trev!” Jimmy barked louder than the bell jingling his entrance to Bob’s Burgers. “What the heck are you doing here?”
Wide-eyed and mouth full of burger, Trev could only stare at his boss, who gestured wildly back at his restaurant.
“It’s a madhouse over there. Marcy just quit, we ran out of linguini- and it’s packed to the brim, not like here, huh Bob? Zoom!”
“Marcy quit?” Trev asked, not humoring the jab.
“Yeah, I don’t know, probably something about her period I guess.” Pesto’s eyes narrowed, finally registering what he was seeing. “Are you eating Bob’s food?”
“What? No!”
“You are! You couldn’t even laugh because your mouth was so full of his greasy garbage.”
“Greasy garbage??” Bob appeared in the kitchen window. “Are you talking about my burgers or your hair?”
Unbidden, Trev snorted, and all the fake coughing in the world couldn’t cover it up.
Jimmy twitched, a light red on his cheeks. “So that’s how it is, huh? You have one little bad day and come crying into another man’s food? Laughing at his jokes?”
“Bob was there for me, unlike some people.”
“Uhh… okay?” Bob looked at Linda, who only shrugged helplessly.
“Is this about the lizard thing? Seriously?” Jimmy’s eyes rolled, and he held the door open wider. “Alright, fine, you can bring it to work with you tomorrow. Just… just spit out the burger and come on.”
“Really?”
“Trev, don’t-"
But Trev had already pushed his plate away and tossed money on the counter, happily trotting back to Pesto’s.