Chapter 2: Hero's Welcome

Matthew Reid - Wednesday, June 17th, 2015

Four days had passed and I hadn't seen a hair nor heard a word out of Sara. My roommates didn't believe a word of the story.

"I saved a woman!" I had said.

"I swear to god if you mention lesbianism..." Craps let the joking threat speak for itself.

"I saved a woman." I had told Joe.

"Is that your way of telling me you chickened out from talking to another girl?" I had great friends.

The story wasn't much of a tale. I opened the door for a woman, closed it for a psycho, and sat in uncomfortable silence for half an hour. But I certainly enjoyed telling it. Part of me was hoping beyond reason that she'd show up at my door and knock. The rest of me was rationalizing why that would be a bad thing. I don't know what the shouting man's problem had been. It could be that Sara had much deeper issues than simply poor taste in men. So, I told the story at home and at work, online and in real life. I was slowly but surely putting the event behind me.

I worked in the kitchen of Flynn's, a big family restaurant downtown. I wasn't a cook. I wasn't a manager. I washed dishes, cleaned everything, and trained disinterested teenagers. I had a livable life and I had grown content and unambitious. The dangerously low wages augmented with a small share of the waitresses' tips kept me in rent and utilities with my untouched inheritance that I planned to blow in Vegas or maybe Ireland somewhere in the indistinct future.

I had the evening shift that night. My schedule jumped all over the place week to week. I was utilized in a stopgap capacity, doing all the gritty closing work and helping deal with the supper hour rush. The first three hours were the same thoughtless void that had become my life. The boss was in, raising hell and looking closely over shoulders. The same old argument had sprung up when Deborah had hired a new waitress rather than farming up from the host staff. Everyone was picking sides. The new girl, Melody, was in for a hard couple of weeks.

"I swear I should just quit!" I was running out the waste to the back dumpster. The slighted girl, or at least the only one I thought could have been due the job, was hauling back on a Marlboro, twisting her very good looks and looking decidedly younger than she was, "It was my fucking turn! What the hell is wrong with her?"

I just shrugged noncommittally.

"Seriously, fuck," she hissed out a bluish cloud, "pure horseshit."

I wasn't really listening to Courtney, she had been working as a buser and hostess since she was seventeen. She was nineteen now, old enough to serve alcohol, so she figured she was due her place. I did my smile and give unhelpful good feelings to her but otherwise I just tossed the latex gloves in the dumpster after the trash bags. I'm sure she said something else but the door closed behind me.

I let the drama wash over me. I understood the frustration between employee and employer but I was hardly invested in it. I had a sort of neglectful relationship with my superiors. The chef mostly avoided me, expecting enough out of me that he could avoid micromanaging. The owner never could leave well enough alone and so I had to deal with her trying to reeducate me from time to time. Nothing really stuck, I had learned to do my job quite well and I did it equally with or without scrutiny. She usually respected that. Some days I think she just needed a safe person to be mad at. Today was rife with host staff backtalk and waitress insubordination. She definitely needed me to be the normally slow and steady tortoise I was used to being. I think I wound up Deborah more than anyone else could have when I went off script.

"I know that girl," I told my partner in the dish pit that night. There was a hot brunette sitting in the back dining area I noticed when I was running back the tub of dirty dishes from the busing station.

"Congratulations," He shrugged hurrying to rack off the plates and coffee mugs for the dishwasher. The supper volume was heavy for a Wednesday and God forbid an under tipped server had to wait the forty five seconds it took to clean a rack of coffee mugs.

"I need to say hello. You'll manage for a few minutes, yeah?"

I didn't wait for his answer. If he couldn't handle five or ten minutes of rush on his own he'd be quitting soon anyways. I took off my apron and stowed it under the counter drains. I nodded good evening to the boss who was flitting about in her general nuisance form.

"Matty, how's the new kid working out?" She looked tired eyed. I hadn't seen her smile in a few days.

"He's about to get his baptism by fire," I dismissed her and continued out to the dining area. She did not appreciate that. I wasn't dressed to properly represent the business. Deborah's rules always stepped over grammar's rules. I refused to give my mode of dress a second's thought and honed in on a the brunette. I could feel the boss boring holes in my head, the only thing keeping her from fetching me back to the kitchen was the thought of having a scene in front of the customers.

"Hi there," I greeted the brunette. "It's Carmen, isn't it?"

"Um, hey," She said guardedly. Right, she hadn't actually saw me before, "Yeah, I'm Carmen."

"I'm Matthew. We didn't actually meet last weekend but you came by my apartment to pick up your sister, Sara," She visibly relaxed when I played out our connection. I couldn't see any resemblance now that I had an up close look. Step sisters, I guessed.

"Oh, my God! You're Matthew?" She hopped to her feet and didn't hug me but dragged me the long way around the table down to the chair on her left, "I'm so glad you helped out Sara! She was in way over her head."

I wasn't aware of a fraction of Sara's story, but there was a more important question to ask first. "Is she doing, OK? She was very shook up on Saturday."

"She's doing better," Carmen brushed the hair out of her eyes. She looked a little nervous as she played with her hair for a few moments, "Hasn't really been getting out much yet. But Lewis hasn't been hassling her so I think she'll bounce back in a few days."

"Good, I was worried," I relaxed in the chair.

"I'm sure she appreciates that," Carmen was a beautiful woman in her early thirties. Maybe a little over tanned but otherwise knockout gorgeous. Her eyes were both bright and dark brown. I surprised myself when I noticed she had the same golden bracelets on her wrists that I had seen on Sara.

"She didn't leave any way to get in touch with her," I prodded, Carmen gave me a sad smile.

"I can't really give out her number if she wasn't willing to do it."

"Of course," I said morosely.

"But what I can do is treat you to dinner. You're not here with anyone else are you?"

"I'm actually working in the kitchen right now," I explained.

"So is it your potato pancakes I'm addicted to?"

"Ha, you and half the city," I deflected. Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to admit my station in front of this woman. I knew, fundamentally, that pretending to be someone else to a girl was far more work than I was willing to keep up but I had this bad habit of digging myself into holes during first impressions.

"So, Matthew," Carmen leaned forward and looked at me with a growing grin, "If you're interested in my sister there's a few things I need to know."

"Oh?" I encouraged her to continue.

"Are you single?"

"I am," single seemed an understatement. Admitting I was lonely would be counterintuitive.

"Kids? Ex wives?"

"None of the above."

"What's your dad like?" Her question threw me. She had this knowing smile on her lips though. Dad, I hadn't thought much about him in the last few years. When I did, emotion hit me like a freight train.

"He was a tough motherfucker," I decided on, "beat cancer three out of four times."

"Wow," her smile stuttered and dissolved, "I'm sorry."

"It's OK. It was a couple of years ago and I'm doing good now," I had this urge to take her hand and squeeze it. I didn't find the courage and she dropped both hands into her lap. I thought a little harder on her question, "I was always told we had the same sense of humor but I never once heard him tell a dirty joke."

"You've got a dirty mind then?" Carmen wore this wicked little grin. I couldn't help but lose myself in it for a moment.

"Probably breaks some health codes having it in a kitchen," Not really something Deborah would appreciate me saying in a crowded restaurant. Anyone who heard that out of context would be unhappy. Carmen smiled prettily.

"Favorite Weird Al song?" She pushed.

"Uh ... The Night Santa Went Crazy," I was wrong. It's Fat but I was on the spot and Santa is great.

"Nice!" She nodded, "I'm an Amish Paradise kind of girl."

"My kind of girl, then," I was grinning at my flirt. It wasn't completely brilliant but it was so much better than I usually came up with. She notched her smile up a few kilolumens.

"So you're an unattached, compassionate, hero with a dirty mind and you can cook?" Carmen laughed. I can't usually read women too well but when she spoke next it was all serious, "Maybe I should keep you for myself?"

"So long as Sara's doing well," I had to speak or the words would never be said, "I'd love to go out with you."

"Um," her vocal filler felt like a slap. It was only a heartbeat before she followed up but my heart had pumped three times, "OK. Yeah, how about we meet for a drink when you're off?"

"That'll be just after 11," I was beaming. I hadn't successfully asked out a woman in over a year.

"Judging by the warpath Ms Flynn's on, you might be getting out of here substantially earlier than that," My moment was interrupted by Carmen's waitress. Eden was one of my favorites. She was giving me a fair and true warning but she had her hip cocked and a grin over her glossed lips that showed she was sharing some of the good humor I had absorbed from Carmen. I gave her a thankful nod.

"Looks like there's another damsel in need of the hero," I told Carmen as I got up with a smile, "I'm leaving you in the best of hands. Eden will take great care of you. Enjoy your meal."

"See you tonight!" Carmen flashed her smile at me and I waved goodbye as I walked back. Deborah was on me in heartbeat. She had wanted to corral me into her office but the restaurant was crazy busy and I could see where I was needed. I went back to catch up the new kid who was testing the limits of his patience between the cooks and servers. Deborah gave me a short reprieve but I knew when the tide receded she'd be right in my face.

Sara Saint - Wednesday, June 17th, 2015

There are few things that feel worse than discovering that Carmen was right. I was a student of bad feelings, honor roll, dean's list, valedictorian of bad feelings. I slunk back into the chair. It was really hot in this sweater. I knew I'd be stuck wearing it until I left.

"Are you ready to order?" Eden, the cheerful black waitress smiled brightly.

"Yeah, you do breakfast all day, right?" Carmen asked. Dammit, now I was going to have to watch her eat. No, I wouldn't be doing that.

"Absolutely," the waitress was gorgeous. Probably my age if not a little older. He had never had any black girls around. I was grinding my teeth not thinking about that.

"Excellent, I'll have the veggie omelet with a side of potato pancakes and a Pepsi."

"Coke OK?"

Not for me it wouldn't be. But Carmen said she was fine with that. Eden floated away, over to the cash registers. I had to get up and leave. I couldn't watch Carmen eat. The early evening air was thick and humid. I headed across the street to the shade of The Public Gardens. I flopped down on one of the benches. I shouldn't have left Carmen like that. I'd need to talk with her soon and I didn't want to force her to go across town. I pulled down my hoodie. I saw a kid jump, surprised to see me on the bench. I smiled at her and unzipped. There were a few other people around. A couple of old men fed the geese. Christ, those were big birds.

I had been terrified since Annette had told me. He had died in early February. My sisters were leaving like the shore eroding under the tide. I didn't want to go, barely could. But Annette found me my little apartment. Showed me the account He had for each of us in case we needed something and he wasn't available to help us. I felt my tongue stud click against the back of my teeth. That was the hardest reminder. Other girls had had their tongues pierced but not all of us; Lucy loved hers. But I had been younger and so I was closest to Him for the last few years. It was a bad thing being so close to Him. Not while he was alive. I had no idea how to handle freedom. I couldn't keep a job. I could barely sit through an interview. I saw the other girls. They weren't left like stringless puppets. Carmen still felt it, that gave me hope. Annette had told me she was hurting too. I felt tears forming in my eyes. Annette was dead.

"Are you alright?" The little girl asked me.

"I lost my grandma a few days ago," It wasn't too far from a lie.

"Oh, I'm sorry," She looked like she was about to cry along with me. I could feel myself toughening up. He didn't like his sluts crying. I put on a big smile.

"It's OK, It's sad but she's in a better place now," I didn't believe in any sort of God. I couldn't have one and have Him. He had died and three days later stayed dead. Clearly, He wasn't God. Death was cold emotionless oblivion. I truly believed Annette was in a better place. That's what scared me. I didn't want to be dead but I really didn't want to be alive without Him. Sometimes, I wish I could have killed Him.

"Your tattoo is really pretty," She pointed to the Chinese dragon curling up under my gold bracelet.

"His name is Taifeng," I told her rolling up the sleeve to show her that it went all the way up my arm. My fingers traced along the red and gold scales, "A friend of mine gave him to me."

"That's cool," She pouted, "Dad says I can't have a tattoo."

"You shouldn't get one so young," I didn't know why I was trying to play parent with this kid. The tattoos on my arms, ankle, back and hip were all inflicted by one of the men I had tried to replace Him with. Part of me hated them all, but Taifeng was pretty awesome, "You don't know how big your arms are going to be. You can't figure out what you want to have on your skin if you're going to get bigger yet."

"Mom has a tattoo and she keeps getting bigger!" The girl huffed. I laughed and she smiled brightly.

"Well not everyone knows about that before they get theirs," I offered diplomatically, "Thanks for cheering me up."

"No problem! I have to go find my mom. She gets lost if you leave her alone," The girl gave me a strong smile. I gave her one right back, "Feel better."

"I will. Thank you."

I watched her run off after a heavy woman pushing a stroller. I immediately wondered where she was hiding the tattoo the girl mentioned. I didn't really want to see it. He had infected me with His appreciation of women. I didn't mind them a little meaty but it wasn't much weight before I was completely turned off. I looked over towards Flynn's.

The good news was that Carmen was going out with Matthew. I was afraid. Lewis had rattled me really bad. He was almost a sweet guy when I had first approached him. He had been transparently lecherous right from the start, but that was one of the things I had been looking for. He wore the sweetness and kindness like a jacket and he had stripped down immediately when he had discovered I couldn't resist much of anything. The other girls had it better. Carmen had pepper spray on her key chain. I wasn't sure if she could use it but I couldn't even pick it up.

I felt much safer trusting this part of the vetting to Carmen. I was feeling way too much hope again. Every time I got close I got way too excited. Seven times I had been wrong. Seven times I ran away. Seven times I had been left sitting in my shower unable to cry. Carmen walked out, half of her meal in a styrofoam carry out container. She was looking back and forth and I could see the impatience on her face. I walked around the black fence and hurried over when the light changed.

"We need to get you another phone," Carmen said grumpily as I hurried across the street to walk with her.

"Is that for me?" I pointed to the container.

"It was because I was worried I was eating it in front of you! But you had wandered off and left me talking to myself like a madwoman. That waitress--"

"Eden."

"Eden," She raised an eyebrow trying to communicate how unhelpful I was at being helpful, "Gave me a snarky look."

"Well you were talking to yourself," Oh, so that's a what a snarky look is. Thanks, Carmen.

"Anyway, we've got four hours to get ready," Carmen declared.

"Why do I have to get ready?" I staggered and she grabbed my elbow making me keep pace.

"You're shadowing me, Susan Storm," She hissed.

"Who's Susan Storm?" That didn't land well and she pulled a bit harder on my elbow. The food and Matthew had given Carmen a hopeful mood I hadn't seen in quite some time. I believe I had spoiled it.

"Shut up and let's go home," She meant her home. She could afford and maintain a decent place. I was surely running out of my bank.

Four hours isn't as much time as it sounds. She made use of every second of it. Carmen looked incredible. She had put on this gorgeous red dress with one shoulder strap. The skirt floated over the black stockings that made her already tan skin look striking. I helped her curl and set her hair. How could I not be envious of how it rolled around and framed her face? I had had my head shaved by a bad mistake in April. It was only recently at a length I didn't need to hide under a hat or my hood. She matched her golden bracelets with a single sapphire gold chain around her neck. Silver dangly earrings fell from her ears.

"Well this should quickly determine if he's gay," Carmen appreciated herself in the mirror. I didn't doubt her, "The red pumps?"

"Going full tilt?" I smirked.

"I would never do less," Carmen met my eyes, "Now you go get your damned shower. Just because we won't notice you doesn't mean your stench won't linger."

"I obligatorily love you, sister," I laughed.

"I obligatorily love you right back," She grinned.

I was far too energetic to take a long leisurely time in the shower. Her shower was incredible. Part of me wanted to live in it. I stole some of Carmen's deodorant while she splashed on a bit of intoxicating perfume. She was dressed to whatever is above the nines. Tens? If you dress in squares it'd be sixteens. I don't get fashion. I was wearing a pair of baggy cargo shorts, flip flops, a threadbare pink tank top and the magic hooded fleece sweater. We hurried down to get the cab she had called.

"Holy Christ, Matty!" A teenaged blonde shouted when they had spotted Carmen waiting for Matthew outside the back entrance, "If that's what you get for pissing off Ms Flynn, you should have decked her!"

"Hi, Matthew," Carmen responded to the flare up with grace, "Who's your friend?"

"Carmen, This is Courtney," He nodded and the girl shook Carmen's hand politely, "You look amazing, let me just walk the kid to the car and we can get going."

Courtney punched Matthew in the shoulder and tried to proposition Carmen away from him all the way to her mother's Honda. I rolled my eyes but the girl was cute. She waved before she drove away. Matthew turned towards Carmen. He was a hell of a lot more nervous than Lewis or the others had been. I felt the chill forming inside my stomach lining.

"Seriously, your dress is going to kill me," He tittered as he tried to be brave. I actually felt myself smiling sadly at his actions.

"This my praying mantis dress," Carmen posed, "Don't worry, you won't be killed and eaten until after sex."

I think he wished he could have competed with that but his mind was clearly running on fumes now. I liked his flabbergasted expression. I kept pace a few steps behind them. It was kind of fun not being the girl on the line during these things. It might have been really fun if the air wasn't so humid. It was nearly indistinguishable from liquid water. Not invisible magic hoody weather at all.

"I'm really not dressed for this," He said. He had changed his ratty t-shirt and corroded sneakers for a nice black shirt and a pair of Doc Martins. He was still wearing a pair of old beaten jeans.

"You look great," Carmen assured him and leaned against his shoulder, "Now I believe I promised you dinner."

"Weirdest date ever," Matthew announced. Carmen beamed. They went into Your Father's Mustache. They asked for a booth. It only took a few minutes to seat them. Carmen dragged Matthew into her side. I sidled into the seat across from them. I had my hands on the hood of my sweater, they'd notice me if it fell off.

Sitting through a meal that everyone else gets to enjoy and you don't is pure torture. Listening to Carmen cajole stories and tidbits out of Matthew was at least a little fun. She was so hot that his brain kept shutting down. Their waiter was in envious disbelief. I stole one of Matthew's onion rings. He noticed the loss of food but couldn't account for it. That disconnect was the kick in the pants that put him into a more presentable form.

Matthew was a college drop-out. He really didn't want to tell Carmen that but she just told her own story of leaving before her sophomore year. She left out any mention of Him. But even in their combined four years of school they had endless stories. I hadn't even started high school. He picked me out of my grade 8 classroom. Nadine made sense, she really did, but it wasn't until this moment did I realize just how right she might be. I didn't care. I needed Matthew to save me from Him. I didn't care what it would cost me.