He Would also Be Mine

He Would be Mine

He wasn't my first customer. However, I remember turning as his vintage burgundy Cadillac Coupe Deville rounded the corner. The first time I saw him, he pulled up to my window, and left me in shock. This man was fine, not in the traditional sense of tall dark and handsome, but he was beautiful to me. White guy, mixed with something from the Mediterranean, he had a bald head, cleanly shaven, tapered beard that connected with his mustache, and a beautiful smile. We smiled at one another, he handed me his money, I gave him his change, and he pulled off. I turned around and looked at him through the tiny drive through window as my runner got his food, and I noticed him still looking at me from his driver side view mirror.

For the next few weeks, he came by every Tuesday and Thursday. He became my regular, sausage egg and cheese McMuffin', with a Coke and two chocolate chip cookies. Those days and weeks flew by and every time I saw him, I wanted to give him my phone number. I wanted to ask him his name. I wanted to tell him that I liked him. However, all we did was smile. Then poof, summer was over, and I had to go back to mid-shift. One would think that I would have forgotten about him, but often flashes of him would come to mind. Over that school year I got promoted, had an 17^th Birthday, and wish I could see his face.

As the school year ended my father got orders out of the Virginia Beach area. My parents told us that we would be leaving in December, and that I would only be able to finish half of my junior year. So, now I had to leave behind a job I liked, friends who became my support system, but on the bright side I was transferred to morning shift. Our current morning shift manager Lauren was due to give birth any day, and the shift was now mine to run. The night before I started my shift, I prayed to see the burgundy Cadillac.

That next morning, I got up at 3am. I washed my deep cocoa brown face, applied eye drops to my chestnut brown eyes, pulled my hair back into a ponytail, brushed down my baby hair, and placed my ponytail through the slot in the back of the hat. When I got in, I divvied up all of the task for the morning and grabbed the headset.

"Hello lover," I said smiling.

Natasha the Russian foreign exchange student looked at me, "You are weird."

The morning flew by, and there was no sight of him. In the moment that I gave up hope a dong rang in my ear.

"Welcome to McDonalds, what can I get started for you this morning?" I said in my normal bubbly way.

"Good Morning," his voice was soft but strong.

Now don't get me wrong I hear hundreds of voices every day, but his voice was different.

I demurely replied, "What can I get started for you today?"

"Can I get a sausage egg and cheese McMuffin, two hashbrowns, and a medium coke?"

"Of course, is that all for today?"

"If you wanna throw in some cookies for free that would really make my day."

I smiled and said, "Your total is $5.48. Pull around to the first window."

When I saw the burgundy hood round the corner my knees buckled, and I could faintly make out a smile. I popped the window open, bent down to take his money and he spoke.

"Where you been? Missed seeing your face."

Something came over me, I didn't even know this man's name, I replied giggly, "I missed seeing your face also."

His face lit up, as he stuck his hand out of the window, "Chad."

I accepted his hand. Warm, soft, yet firm, "Marcellus, nice to meet you, Chad."

"The pleasure is all mine, Marcel."

"Head up to the next window," I said as he continued to smile at me. "Natasha, I got this one."

Up at the front I bagged up his order, and wrote my phone number on his receipt

"Here you go, I also put my phone number in there with two chocolate chip cookies. I want to see you outside of work if you are single," I continued.

"I am very single. How about after your shift?" he asked taking the bag.

"Sounds good to me."

That day my shift seemed like it lasted longer than usual. Then I saw the Cadillac round the corner. I clocked out, and I made my way outside. When I got to him, he didn't care about the smell of fries, oil, or sweat. He pulled me in, placed his hand on the small of my back, and kissed me on the lips. The smell of menthol engulfed my nose, and the taste of his tongue paralyzed my brain. I couldn't remember the ride to his house. I don't remember getting undressed. I don't remember showering. What I do remember is the kindness he took when pulling the thin polyester basketball shorts up over my naked waist, and how he helped me pull the tight white tank top over my torso applying kisses all the way down to the dimples nestled in my back. His kiss upon my neck sent my body into sensory overload. I was completely present, but also floating in the clouds. We swayed with one another for hours. Applying gentle kisses to each other's necks, shoulders, lips.

Night overtook us, he put on my sneakers, walked me to the car, and drove me home. As we sat outside the house under a streetlight, he kissed me once more.

"When can I see you again?"

"Every day," I replied as I reached up resting my hand upon stubble.

He didn't need to know we were leaving. All he needed to know was that I was his, and he would also be mine.