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Carmy stared at a family sat down at a restaurant, yellow and orange tones surrounding them. A still picture vibrant enough to seem real. The woman, who appeared to be the mother, was smiling at the little boy next to her and offering him a piece of bread. The little boy was reaching out for it, never getting it, but constantly happy, nevertheless. Carmy frowned, he couldn’t imagine being this excited for bread, or family dinner, ever.
“So, what about this one?”
Carmy turned to Sydney, who was staring at him with a curious expression, waiting for a reply. He was about to deny with his head when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He reached for it and replied to the text, instead.
Sydney sighed, annoyance growing within her. This was the third time he had turned to his phone, instead of focusing on choosing a work of art to replace the one he so vehemently hated. They were here for him, and he was still somewhere else, of course. She decided to move to another painting, she could tell from his expressions that he wasn’t that much into this one, anyway.
Carmy noticed her absence when a sudden coldness grazed his arm. He turned around, found her staring at another painting, and walked to her side.
“Do you like this one?”
Sydney shrugged. “It’s whatever.”
“I don’t want whatever for The Bear.”
Carmy turned around searching for another work of art, and found a statue of a man holding a classic chef’s hat. Sydney stood next to him, arms crossed, frown on her face.
“What?”
“It’s just. We have like… a million important things to do.”
“I know… and this is one of those. So… Let’s-”
He got cut off in the middle of the sentence by the buzz in his pocket again. He took a peek of the message and was about to reply, when Sydney interrupted him.
“Yeah, so important you couldn’t give a shit about it.”
Carmy turned to her, taken aback. He putted his phone away and searched for her gaze.
“Why are you upset?”
“I’m not.” She said, knowing fully well she was. But. “We don’t have time for that.”
Carmy frowned, a turmoil forming in his chest. He knew what happened when there was no time for acknowledging when something was off. He touched her arm, redirecting her attention, so she was now staring at him. “Then we make it.” Sydney bit her lip, clearly already running the numbers in her mind, trying to see if there was space in her schedule for it. He could see it, just like he could also see when she was disappointed about something, like right now. He tried again. “I was off at Friends and Family. I shouldn’t have been. I’m sorry.”
Sydney sighed, the seconds on the clock running, and here was Carmy muttering yet another apology. But words said on thin air, only took time away.
“It’s alright. We are okay. Fix things with Richie, though? He was doing great before whatever you said to him.”
“I know. Syd, I won’t be shitty anymore.”
Sydney looked at him this time, the words already fading away as they did when he said them weeks before. She wasn’t going to dismiss the déjàvu this time, though.
“You have said that before.”
Carmy made the sorry sign at her, a little lost on where to take the conversation when it only seemed to hit cul-de-sacs.
She didn’t make it back, instead, she walked around the gallery, scanning its walls in search for something else, anything else.
Carmy watched her, while his initial turmoil turned into a familiar tightness in his chest, his breathing accelerating, and he knew it was not time for fucking up. He took a deep breath and looked around the gallery, attentively for the first time, avoiding the gaze from the mother in the made-up restaurant, until he found a small picture in a corner. He walked towards it. Up close he realized it was a black and white photograph. A table, a curtain and a rectangle of light divided by the two objects. A single chair in the shadow. Minimalistic. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about it that spoke to him. For a second, he felt himself in the shadow next to the chair, but unable to sit in it. Sydney joined him shortly after. “I like this one.” Carmy said, waiting for a reaction.
“There’s something missing, though.”
Carmy made a face of confusion at first, but when he turned back to the picture, he realized what she meant. The table, the chair, the curtain… there was no one there. It was a solitary space. He nodded and turned to Sydney, who seemed lost in the picture the way he was some minutes ago. He could feel the pressure inside him subsiding.
“I get these awful panic attacks at times.” Sydney turned at this, nodded, she has heard of them before. He continued, “I think they come to me when I’m sure I’m fucking up, but not sure of how to come back from it. How to fix it.” Sydney turned to the photo.
“Those happen to me too. But more when I’m overwhelmed. Unsure I’ll be able to step up. They make me throw up…”
They were quiet for a while, as if the seconds stopped existing, or rather it stopped mattering if they existed at all. Carmy looked at the lonely place in front of him, watched as it started catching fire, flames taking over the curtain and the table. “You too?” Carmy noticed the question came from Sydney. He blinked and the flames disappeared completely.
“No. For me they feel like there’s not enough air, like my lungs can’t catch up. And I try to breath but… I’m burning. And there’s flames everywhere.”
Carmy muttered that last part in a whisper, a confession he hasn’t admitted to anyone before. Sydney frowned and then giggled. Carmy stared at her, an eyebrow raised.
“Are you laughing at my anxiety?”
She opened her eyes wide, realizing her reaction might had come out wrong.
“No! I mean. It’s just. Fire feeds off of oxygen. So, it’s a little ironic that you feel burning but also like there’s no air? I know it’s not supposed to make sense, but-“
Carmy’s laugh cut off her rambling. Sydney turned to him, and to the wrinkles around his eyes, and the rising corners of his lips. She sighed, relieved, and laughed too, feeling the tension fading away from both of them.
He tried catching his breath from laughing so much and realized it was no longer harder to take in air. Maybe she was right, fire grew with oxygen, not the other way around. Something so simple, but so… significant. He stared at her smiling, and maybe it wasn’t just the logics of fire that got him to calm down, but he wasn’t ready to dwell into it.
“I can see you enjoy this one.” Carmy and Sydney turned around at the same time, startled by the voice of the curator behind them, staring, waiting for a reply. Sydney looked at Carmy, and back at the curator, with a question.
“Actually. Do you have anything more by this artist?”
The curator smiled and guided them to a smaller room. Inside, a wall filled with similar pictures to the previous one, in the middle a large vertical photograph. Carmy and Sydney saw it almost at the same time and walked instantly towards it. Carmy couldn’t help but smile, it was perfect. He felt a gaze over him, turned around and saw Sydney smiling back at him, nodding. He looked for the curator, and was about to ask the final question, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. This time, a phone call. He walked out of the small room to answer it.
Sydney watched him leave, disappointed. They were so close to… she didn’t know what, but it seemed like something. She turned to the curator this time.
“We are taking it.”
--//--
The ride back was quiet. Carmy making some comments about the menu, which she answered casually, feeling distanced from her responses. Once at The Bear, she walked inside fast, while Carmy took out the photograph they got from the gallery.
At the kitchen, Sydney was ready to follow her to-do list religiously. First, the paper in the order machine, she opened the cap and… it was full. Okay, someone else did it. She turned to the floor… shiny and clear. She walked towards the walk-in fridge with a frown and discovered the handle turned under her hands, smoothly. She gazed to the wall and the shelf with the pots was now magically placed to the right. She got closer, thinking they probably had a car crash on their way here, and she was hallucinating while fighting for her life. Because… there was no way she was now standing at such a functional kitchen. That’s when it hit, the silence, the calm. Around her, some of the cooks were having a snack, others were outside chatting amicably among them. Tina even made a face at her: Alright? Sydney remained so shocked she couldn’t seem to come up with a reply, she couldn’t seem to move at all. Her only response was going to the last item in her list: the photograph. That’s when, on her way out of the kitchen, she almost crashed into Carmy who was walking inside at the same time.
“Wanna see how it looks?”
Sydney, not understanding how Carmy wasn’t as shocked as she was, started mumbling.
“The fridge, the paper… the shelf.”
Carmy immediately turned to the right, where the shelf was calmly resting over the wall. He didn’t look surprised at all.
“Looks good, huh?” He turned to her, casually. “I asked Fak to put an extra one over there too, to hold the bigger ones.”
Sydney turned to the place Carmy was staring at. A whole new shelf she hadn’t even noticed in front of her. She only managed a simple “Yeah” as he continued talking.
“Terry finished fixing the fridge too.”
“Tony” Sydney corrected him.
“No, turns out his name is actually Terry. Might as well call him T from now on, though, just in case.” He smiled at her, complicitly, while her face remained the same, unable to compute everything going on. He kept talking. “Gary filled the order machine with more paper, should be enough for opening night, but there’s extra supply right underneath the table too...” Carmy finally noticed Sydney’s state of shock and asked softly, “Are you okay?”
Sydney looked at him directly, “When did you do all these?” And she gestured vaguely around her. He then took out his phone one more time and showed her all the text messages and pictures exchanged this morning.
“Been multitasking a bit. Still not an expert but… did accomplish getting some stuff done.” Sydney only managed a nod at this, still in awe at everything. Her mental schedule now suddenly completely free. She felt a bit lost. Like that first night before they got the permits and the mayhem rolled down. Well, the only thing left in her list was the art, right? She turned to Carmy.
“Do you need help?”
Carmy stared at her, confused, “With what?”
“The painting… I mean, the photo, hanging it.”
He smiled at her, a bit cocky if she was to comment on it, but also with a hint of satisfaction. “Come on.” He guided her through the entrance, where Natalie was sitting on a chair staring at the new photograph, happy. She saw Sydney come in and made a sign for her to join her. Sydney grabbed a chair and placed it next to Natalie. She stared at the picture more attentively than the last time. It was a black and white photo, a table with tulips next to a big window that offered a garden with a table and a couple in it. They were sharing a plate of pasta, he taking the next bite with his fork while she stared at the horizon, a tattoo of a bear on her arm. She turned to Carmy who was still standing while staring at the picture, just like her. He felt Sydney’s gaze on him, turned around and raised his eyebrows, like asking a question. She couldn’t help but smile. Natalie stood and guided Carmy to the spot she left next to Sydney. They sat there for a while, sharing each other’s company. She felt she could almost get inside the picture, be in the garden, enjoying a plate of pasta, not a worry in the horizon. She voiced her thoughts out loud.
“Almost feels like I am there too…”
He continued her line of thought, “Taking a sip of espresso, waiting for the cannoli to be ready…” She looked at him and seemed to notice something in him she hadn’t seen before. A softness in his voice, in his eyes. She rested her weight over him for a second, and found the support she was expecting.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” He looked at her. With her laying on his shoulder, just this action proved to be quite personal. His voice almost a whisper, no need to be louder with her face so close. She thought about his question for some time, while his eyes remained locked with hers. She almost replied with what first crossed her mind: For taking her in that first day, for be willing to teach her, to understand her, to listen… For being here… She settled on whispering something broader, though.
“For doing all these.”
“I told you I would. We are in this together.”
She looked at him and, for the first time, felt his words solidify, creating a strong structure around them. She didn’t know if it was the photograph, the lack of duties in her to-do list or the proximity, but she could imagine Carmy outside of the kitchen for a second. Lounging in their imaginary garden, taking a drag from his cigarette, sinking in the sun, his eyes shining brighter than the sky above, she staring at them while offering him one of Marcus’ cannoli. Both talking about being away from the restaurant, but laughing it off at her mention that there’s always time for dessert. The Carmy still in The Bear, though, searched her eyes with a frown. Probably worrying that this might not be enough, that it never will. Sydney laid her hand over his in an impulse, as a way of saying that it was. It was more than enough. “Yeah. We are.” She felt him relax under her touch.
There was some noise over the kitchen. Both turned towards the divisor window, searching for it, when they watched Richie come across it. Carmy turned to her, about to say something which she denied with her head. She didn’t need to hear it, she knew. He turned his hand around and actually held hers. Her heart skipped a beat, she felt out of context. Maybe the crash did happen, because there was no way this day could feel more... odd. But then, it wasn't like it was strange, it was more like… new. Her instinct telling her it was a good kind of new. Which got backed, when Carmy started making circles with his thumb over her hand, a new way of saying sorry, of meaning it. She nodded at him this time, their gaze locked. They only let go of their hold when Carmy stood up and asked Richie if he got a minute. And as Sydney watched them going out of the restaurant she knew, this time, she could trust him.