Mario - A Story - 1

(Because I truly love to have people read what I've written, and hope they enjoy the stories, I'm going to try to blog some of them. This is the first, in 31 parts, some longer, some shorter)

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“Mario, order up,” one of the cooks called out.

Mario hurried over, picked up the plates, expertly balancing all three, and took them to the girls sitting at the end of his bay of the counters. “Burger, tuna on rye, and a Ruben,” he said as he put them down. He checked to make certain all the condiments were easily at hand then began clearing off dirty dishes from a spot in the middle of the counter which had just been vacated. As he wiped it down someone slid onto the empty stool. He looked up with a sigh.

“There are plenty of other vacant seats, Jonah.”

“But not at your counter.”

“Exactly.” Mario picked up the bus bin and headed towards the kitchen.

“Is he going to cause problems?” his boss, Mr. Reiter, asked as he glanced down the counter at Mario’s ex.

Mario shook his head. “No. He’s just being an ass.”

“All right. I don’t want you coming in again looking like you’ve been three rounds with Andre Ward.”

Mario snorted softly. “I couldn’t go one round with Ward. But honest Mr. Reiter it’s all good.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

He was, mostly. Jonah was the sort of man who used words and his fists when he got drunk and belligerent. But other than showing up here on and off the last few weeks Jonah hadn’t done anything since Mario had broken off the relationship for his own sanity, and Wil’s.

Mario smiled as he always did when he thought of his son. Wil was the result of a very brief liaison Mario had had with a woman just before he’d bitten the bullet and admitted to himself that women were not his thing. She had been less than thrilled when she found out she was pregnant and after Wil had been born she’d been more than willing to hand him over to Mario, no strings attached.  

The first year had been rough as Mario learned exactly what being a parent actually involved but he and Wil had both survived it pretty much intact. Jonah had come into their lives eight months ago. In the beginning he’d seemed like a dream come true to Mario, someone who had accepted that Wil would always come first in Mario’s life, no matter what.

Everything had seemed fine between them until the first time Jonah had arrived at the apartment so drunk he could barely stand and started to verbally abuse Mario. Mario had forgiven him then, and the second and third time as well since it was weeks between episodes. The fourth episode had ended when Jonah staggered away, leaving behind a battered and bruised Mario and a sobbing five-year-old who didn’t understand why Jonah would hurt his daddy.   

* * * *

Jonah had shown up the following evening with an armload of flowers and a mouth full of apologies and promised never to do that again. Unfortunately it seemed he’d needed a few drinks to get up the courage to face Mario.

“I swear I’ll never, ever hit you again,” Jonah had said over and over in different variations of the same theme. “It’s just that I’m afraid. You’re so perfect. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, you and Wil. Then I think what would happen if you left me and…”

“And so you think abusing me will keep me with you?” Mario had replied scathingly, and stupidly he realized when Jonah had shouted ‘No!’ and forcefully tried to kiss him.

Mario had pushed him away, the worst thing he could have done. Jonah had retaliated with his fists.

Wil came running into the living room from his bedroom, his face tear-streaked but with a determined look on it as he pounded his small fists against Jonah’s legs. “Don’t hurt my daddy,” he cried.

Jonah had raised his hand to slap Wil.

Mario saw red as he snatched his son out of reach, picked up the vase he’d put the flowers in and threw the contents, water and all, at Jonah. Somehow that gesture, and probably the cold water that streamed down Jonah’s head and shoulders, stopped the enraged man in his tracks.

“Get out, now,” Mario had said forcefully as he held Wil tightly in his arms. “And never come back.”

“But…” Jonah had stuttered out. “Mario, please, I didn’t mean…”

“Out!” Mario had pointed a finger at the door in what, as he had told a couple of friends a few days later with a wry bit of amusement, was a very dramatic gesture worthy of a romantic heroine.

Jonah had hesitated, his hands fisting again, and then with a muttered curse had walked out the door, slamming it hard behind him.

* * * *

Mario walked back down the counter to stand in front of Jonah, his order pad in hand as if his ex was just another customer, and waited.

Jonah smiled at him ingratiatingly. “I’ll have a BLT, coffee, and you.”

With a disgusted shake of his head Mario took down the order then turned away.

“Mario, please, I’m serious,” Jonah said softly.

Mario spun back around to stare at Jonah. “This is not a discussion I’m having with you, not now, not ever. Get that through your thick skull,” he replied in a low, angry tone of voice. “I can’t stop you from coming in here, but I do not have to do more than take your order and bring you your food.” With that said he stalked away.  

The look Jonah sent after him spoke worlds as to his feelings about that.