Chapter 11: Faithless

Meghan Reid – Sunday, June 21st, 2015

I walked into work with with a cardboard tray of coffees and a bag of muffins. Tim Horton's didn't offer injectable caffeine yet so I was stuck waking up like a cavewoman. I unlocked the front door as I arrived. There were no walk-ins waiting, which was uncommon for a weekend. I crossed the lobby, took my place at the front desk and hooked my headset on my left ear. The smell of coffee drew the practitioners out of their rooms. We said our good mornings, I ignored a feeble flirtation and answered my first call. The morning was the same as any slow day. I had almost finished that day's crossword when he called.

"Good morning, Pictou Chiropractic. Meghan speaking, how may I direct your call?" I forcibly swallowed the last fifth of my muffin before opening the line and answering through a smile.

"Yeah, I need a witch doctor to raise a my dead chickens," My brother's stupid sense of humor made me smile. When I had got this job, it had felt like throwing my science degree in the shredder. My brother agreed with me that it was mostly voodoo. Shame, I wasn't going to get a paycheck this large in Pictou without even higher education.

"Well you've called the right place," I laughed into my bluetooth, "How many dead chickens are we talking about? Every dozen you get one free demon exorcised."

"Oh, that sounds like a good deal, I might have to strangle the last three."

"And actually killing animals is too much," I stopped laughing but smiled, "What's going on? Do you need a little money?"

"Uh," He always started with that shitty embarrassed sound. I found it better just to get to the heart of the matter so we could do the family bonding without him prodding for an inlet, "No, actually, I'm good."

"Good," I tried not to sound too surprised. Matthew's ego was always pretty fragile.

"Yeah, actually, I wanted to talk to you because I'm starting a business," I could hear him lighting up with excitement. I didn't believe a word of it.

"So you need a lot of money?" I pointed out, knowing he was not thinking things through.

"Fuck off," He growled, "I came into some good luck and Debo-Ms Flynn had these plans for a catering company. I think I can pull it off."

"Yeah? Don't you have to have a chef?" And employees. And a kitchen. And vans. And and and...

"That's, that's covered actually," He mumbled, "Shit! I met a few--I met a girl."

"Good, and you want to show off for her and can't as a dishwasher, so you figured you'd tank a business while pretending?"

"No! Jesus Meghan!" He was legitimately hurt. I didn't like it but this isn't where I could afford to pull punches. Matthew needed the truth.

"What? Don't yell at me," I hissed defensively, "You've got a track record."

"I do, but I've got something more now. I, I kind of need my inheritance to buy the catering vans," He mumbled.

"Well, come into town and sign the papers. Kyla's working at the Credit Union now. You could have the money tomorrow morning."

"Uh, can you do it? I mean you're signatory right?" He pleaded pathetically.

"I can. I won't." I could hear his teeth grind at that, "You need a hundred bucks for groceries? I'll login and transfer it now. You want this? You prove you want it."

"I love you, you know," He said to cool himself off.

"I'm not 15, I don't just do whatever a semi-handsome boy asks when he tells me he loves me," I cooled off was well. It was only fair.

"When did I upgrade to semi-handsome?" He chuckled.

"When you started going gray," I delivered the truth with as clear a tone as I could.

"Jesus," He was awfully blasphemous today. Good for him, "Well, I've got work to do here first."

"Then why're you jumping the gun?" He wasn't thinking but I was here to back him up.

"Because I figured—"

"Because you figured you could have someone else do your work for you. That's why I think this is entirely a bad idea," I was drumming my fingers on the desk as I told him.

"I don't," He showed at least a modicum of backbone.

"Excellent!" I grinned. He needed this motivation but he needed it for the duration of his business not just while he was swimming in new relationship energy with this new girl, "Prove me wrong and I'll be the happiest sister on the planet."

"I'm pretty sure you'd never supplant Misty," He joked, "She's got some sort of brain defect where she's 95% dopamine."

"OK, the happiest non-mutant sister on the planet."

"Do you want to know the plan?" He itched to explain himself.

"I want you to know the plan," I declared.

"Why can't you be a bit more like Misty?" He mumbled. Misty shared in his excitement over anything.

"Because my knees close," I replied with a smirk.

"Ha ha." He intoned, "I meant, why can't you get excited with me?"

"I am excited. I'm just really skeptical."

"Well that makes me feel great..."

"You want to feel great, that's what that girl is for," I pointed out, "What's her name?"

"Uh ... Gwen--"

"She prefers Gwendolyn," I heard a nasal woman in the background announce.

"Gwendolyn Ashcroft." He declared.

"She from Halifax?"

"Maybe?" He felt trapped and I pinched my nose in frustration.

"What's she do?" I asked.

"She's a waitress, at Flynn's," Right, because he'd never go out and find a girl. She'd have to fall into Matthew's lap.

"How old is she?"

"25 to 28," He guessed. So slightly younger than I was.

"Kids? Ex-husbands." I had my money on yes and no.

"I doubt it and probably not," He explained.

"Sounds like she's your soulmate."

"Well, maybe, she isn't," He admitted, "But she is a kick in the pants."

"Well, maybe, find a few more girls like her," I smiled. Could you even imagine? Matthew Reid, slut.

"I think I might take you up on that," He grinned.

"Well, when you're sure you're serious about this," I offered an olive branch, "Your room's made up for you. We'll get everything sorted out."

"Hey, thanks."

"Any time." I meant it.

"Do you need to get back to work?" He finally thought about me.

"Probably," I shrugged. The waiting room was still empty, "But not immediately."

"So what's going on with Meghan?" Matthew's interest was real but I never really got into it with Matthew. We both had Misty for that. Between us we were just very good friends.

"Riding fast, dying young. Life is always crazy in Pictou."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," He laughed at my sarcasm.

"Hey, if you're serious about this catering thing," He'd need employees and I had a friend struggling in Halifax. She'd jump on working for Matthew. Maybe she'd even get involved with Matthew. I'd keep it off the table for now, "Call me again."

"I'm serious now," He assured me. I believed him, but.

"I mean ongoing serious," I sighed.

"Alright, well I'm going to let you go. I need a shave. I have a date tonight," I loved how he bragged. He had a date. He had just conquered the earth. Good for him.

"Give Gwendolyn my best and, if you're lucky, your worst," I wished I could access Facebook at work. I was going to find out more of this Gwendolyn Ashcroft when I got home.

"What? Gwendo—Right. Yeah, will do. Try not to unleash the great old ones onto the earth," Scatterbrained nutbar, he was going to crash so hard when Gwendolyn finished with him.

"You're just upset because the black robed figures never invite you to the orgies," I tried to direct his irritation to humor.

"Robes? Yeah, maybe I'll do that," He replied in amused seriousness.

"Ok. Weird!" I scrunched my nose, "I love you, Matty."

"Love you, sis."

Eden MacMaster – Sunday, June 21st, 2015

I took one last look in my mirror. I was surprised at how excited I was for tonight. I was going to break Matthew. I had decided on the purple dress a couple of days ago but I only just picked the right boots to go with it. I turned, my ass was awesome under my skirt. My legs were even better down to the taller than comfortable heels. I readjusted the top. Matthew was going to love this bra but he wasn't going to see it. My makeup was great, heavier than work but not as heavy as Melody or Sylvie wore to waitress. I'm glad I had wiped away the bright red off my lips in favor of darker shade. I had tamed my hair and fluffed it out over my shoulders. I brushed half of my bangs behind my left ear.

"Woo!" Sylvie stuck four fingers in her mouth and wolf whistled as I stepped out of my bedroom. She was my roommate since before we had been friends. Living together and working together was tough and our social lives had needed to sharply diverge but we had become great friends.

"Thanks, slut," I grinned, I picked my handbag from the kitchenette island and unplugged my phone from the wall.

"I can't believe you're going to be breaking in Matthew," Sylvie was horizontal across our couch playing Super Smash Bros. Her falsely blonde hair was tossed over the armrest. She was still wearing her work top, but it was open around her black tank top. She had pitched her shorts in her room and was flashing her gold panties to the room, "I know Zina had always wanted to."

"Why didn't she?" I said before dialing.

"Neither asked the other," Sylvie shrugged.

"No, Almon street. Yes, Eden please. Thanks how long? OK, perfect," I hung up with the cab company and slipped my phone into the bag. I looked back to Sylvie, her gamecube controller laid lazily on her tits. She had Doritos dust and crumbs all over her fingers.

"I'm not going to break in Matthew," I rejected her premise. I pulled the bracelet Matthew had given me from my bag and slipped it on, "This is just a first date."

"Ah, you and your morals and standards," Sylvie frowned upside down, "At least if you get caught up in things, Matthew's a good guy and he'll probably like and respect you more the next day."

"There's no need to hurry anything. Tonight's just to find out if he's fun," I told her, "And saying that, can you text me around 11 or so?"

"Yeah, prude," Sylvie agreed, "I'll set my phone to buzz after this match."

"Thanks girl, my taxi could already be here. Bye!"

"Have almost the best night ever!" She shouted after me as I hurried to the elevator. By the time I was out to the curb, the cab pulled up in front of me.

"Edith?" He asked when I climbed in.

"Eden, but yeah. Neptune theatre, please." He tried to chit chat and I was cordial back. I couldn't tell from his almost Newfie accent whether he was flirting or not. It was a six-something fare, I gave him two fives and closed the door. Downtown was slowish for a Sunday evening. The play started at 7:30, I arrived at quarter after and collected the tickets I had ordered online. Matthew showed up ten minutes later.

"You look incredible," His voice found me first.

"You look nice as well," I smiled as I turned to find him walking over from the other side. I stepped towards him. He looked great. I'm glad his shaggy mop was cut back a bit. "This I like," I grinned fixing the collar of his blue shirt. I reached up and stroked his jaw, "This not so much."

"Yeah, I was told yesterday that you preferred lumberjacks," He laughed and slipped an arm confidently around my waist. He had always been iffy and nervous at christmas parties and other nights we had been out as a group. I liked this Matthew.

"Well, you're in for a treat," I grinned, "Have you seen Lisa Corbett before? She's playing Abigail Williams. You can almost judge a play whether it'll be good or great by finding her name on the playbill."

"Yeah?" He grinned, "I've been told. Actually."

"Good, I didn't want to have to teach you everything," I took his hand and led him down the aisle. We had fourth row seats. It wasn't a sold out theater but it was fairly full. I leaned over and whispered against his ear, "Plus, she's super hot."

He started laughing. Not the response I expected. A few others looked around at us but we hadn't been talking loudly.

"What?" I whispered again.

"I don't think she's for me," He chuckled.

"Too young?" I didn't think she was drinking age.

"Just not the kind of girl I find attractive." He shrugged with a smile.

"Wow, do you think I'm attractive?" I prodded him. He was taking out his phone and turning it off. I think he took the time to send a text but he had it off in a moment.

"You, Eden, are drop dead gorgeous." He squeezed my hand and I smiled back at him. But I cocked an eyebrow.

"I don't know how to take that. I mean if you can't see how pretty she is, what does that say about me?"

"I never said she wasn't pretty, I said she wasn't the kind of girl I find attractive."

"All right, I'm biting, why isn't she the kind of girl you find attractive?"

"Her dad and my mom were siblings," He smirked, "Corbett's my mom's maiden name."

I smacked his shoulder. I caught the tense of his declaration. But I had known Matthew for five years. I knew about his parents. I knew how he handled it. I focused on Lisa.

"How big's your family?"

"Dad was the eldest of five and mom was the middle of three," He answered, "Yeah, I have cousins everywhere in this province."

"It's just me, my parents and one uncle out west." I've always wanted brothers and sisters. I shushed him from continuing. The house lights were coming down and I love the theatre.

Dawn Rhodes – Sunday, June 21st, 2015

"Can I buy you a drink?" He was cute, with beautiful hair, dark eyes and a pink shirt. I should have been prepared for the attention. I wasn't. I was sitting at a lonely table for two, sipping on a diet Pepsi because I didn't have a driver's license to prove I was at least 19. I had been dressed by Carmen and made up by Sara. The tight pink sheath dress wasn't me. It looked good on me. It appeared to double my tits. I hadn't worn pink anything since I was 9. It cut off maybe an inch and a half below my pussy. My black thong had been seen by half the bar as I had climbed up into the tall chair.

"No." I told the boy reluctantly. He seemed shocked at the clear syllable. He took a breath.

"Have a good night," He told me and slunk off to his circle of friends. I hadn't wanted to do this. I hadn't wanted to be here. This morning had been hell. Deborah had hired Phoebe and myself to work the dishroom at Flynn's. Phoebe managed the job better than everyone had warned against. She was cool, efficient and bored. I burnt all of my fingertips on hot cutlery. I dropped a stack of six bowls. I slipped mopping the kitchen and bruised my butt. I was told I had the worst first shift, Franklin, the head chef, had seen. Deborah claimed, to spare my feelings, that hers had been as bad a disaster.

"That's three whole tables of boys you've turned down," My waiter, Geoffrey, walked up with his gay hipster smile. He was nearly six three and couldn't have weighed twenty pounds more than me.

"I'm still waiting," I reiterated my reason.

"I think you've been stood up, darling," He said sadly, "If you want, I can call your two diet Pepsis even."

"Thank you, but I'm going to wait a little while longer." I gave him a hopeful smile and he had a sad one in change. Next to the bar the band had just finished setting up. The speakers cut out in the middle of July Talk's Paper Girl.

The band was a three person act: a drummer, a guitarist and a singer. The drummer, in a preppy suit but for rolled up sleeves started in on a relaxed beat. He had barely started and he was eager to be there. The guitarist started in. He was a little more casually dressed, a sports jacket and jeans. He had his fedora tilted further over his eyes. He frowned as Dawn tried to place the tune. The singer was a knockout. Her jet black hair contrasted her creamy complexion. Diamonds glittered her hair. Her long black gown was split around her skinny left leg. She seemed older than her bandmates. Not older, more mature, perfected to their unrefined.