Chapter 2: Evening of the Dawn

Dawn Rhodes – Wednesday, July 22nd, 2015

No Sara. No Melody. I wanted to and feared to volunteer to be the third tongue stud. I wanted to be someone other than a utility to Matt. An utility. An umbrella. A yellow flower. Fuck English.

He was tired and happy as he washed my hair. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling. That was the worst part of my slavery, enjoying it. No one did, not all the time, but it was trivial to find some moments were I loved it. It had just been a warm afternoon. We had watched pirated movies on Robin’s computer; Superman vs The Elite and The Flashpoint Paradox. I actually liked Superman now, that had got me another fuck before the second movie. His fingers pulled out of my hair and I dipped forward into the stream. It was a much nicer bathroom than my apartment. Though I missed the seashell curtains. Everything Robin owned was monochromatic and bland.

“Hey!” Eden called from the entrance to the apartment.

“We’re in the shower!” I called back. I blushed not out of embarrassment. I hardly got embarrassed anymore. I blushed out of frustration. How had my new world become so routine?

Eden walked in, naked. She was so pretty. Tall, beautiful skin, shiny hair and a confident smile. I hoped I’d only have to finger her; Matt had been limp since Barry’s mom died. I disliked the taste of pussy. I had only tried Sara’s, Phoebe’s, Zina’s and Melody’s so far. None were the same. Give me a dick every time.

“Hey gorgeous,” Matt slipped an arm around my belly and wiggled me around so he could get under the spray.

“Hi Matthew,” She nodded, “Robin doesn’t think we need the van yet. We’re just delivering two boxes. Tim’s dozen boxes look bigger.”

“They’re flatter though, so technically Robin’s holds more,” Matt needlessly argued. “But it’s not just about the gig. That’s whatever. This is about advertising.”

“OK,” Eden nodded, “Do you want me to join you guys? I’ll have to do my makeup again.”

“No we’re about done,” Matt left me relieved, “You want to towel down Dawn and I’ll be out in a second.”

I was pushed out by a good squeeze of my ass cheek. I stepped gingerly out of the shower and into a giant gold towel. Robin may have had bland taste but she had comfy taste too. Eden smile was she dried me fiercely. I was like a grumpy two year old and she was a happy mom. I was about to push her away, laughing.

It sounded like “Squee-eak!” “Fuck!” “Ca-dunk ... Bunk, squish, tunk...” “Whoosh!” “Smack!” “Matthew!”

“Oh my God!” I chased after Eden and back to the shower.

“I’m alright,” Matt shook his head waving us off, “I just—ow—slipped.”

He was unfolding as he tightly gripped the edge of the tub. Eden and I steadied either shoulder as he stood up and walked out of the shower. All of Robin’s soaps and shampoos were scattered in the bottom of the tub. He wrapped his arm over Eden’s shoulders.

“Where does it hurt?” Eden was asking as she prodded his skin. I rushed back and turned off the faucets.

“It’s not bad, just here’s a little sore,” He rubbed her hand over the bottom left quarter of his back. Just above his ass. He had a better ass than he had when I had met him. Something to do with Janine, though it had started with Gwen. When he wasn’t buying his own groceries he ate like less of a pig. I hurried up and rubbed his hurt back.

“If you’re going to both be like that at least use towels so we can get going!” He growled.

“Do you need an aspirin?”

“I prefer Advil,” He shook his head. I tossed Eden the towel and ran to the medicine cabinet. She had Motrin but ibuprofen is ibuprofen. I dumped two pills into my palm and rushed back to Matt.

“Good, swallow,” Eden told him as I shoved my hand into his face. She rubbed the back of his neck.

“Water?” Matt chuckled.

“Oh my God!” I overreacted and didn’t realize until I had run across the apartment naked and still damp and slid to the kitchen cupboards on my bare feet. Glasses were in the fourth cupboard I tried. I didn’t sprint back to the bathroom but I hurried. Eden was laughing and rubbing a fluffy towel all over Matt. I was murderously jealous.

“Thanks Dawn,” Matt laughed as I put his glass on the counter, “But I’m good now. Let’s get going.”

We got dressed and headed downstairs. We could’ve left without going through the bakery but Matt liked to harass us. Robin was serving some customers and Matt felt down that he didn’t interrupt her.

“You want to come with us tonight?” Matt took shotgun. I got in the back of Eden’s Corolla.

“Where?”

“Robin has this deal with Drowning Miranda. They play in Halifax they demand the venue order a bunch of her stuff. So we’re going to deliver it. Free concert.”

“Who are Drowning Miranda?” I asked as we pulled out. Eden shrugged like she didn’t know either.

“She’s coming,” Matt told Eden, “Deborah said we wouldn’t have uniform shirts with the logo on them for a few days so we should go buy something temporary.”

“What are our uniforms going to be?” Eden asked, “Slutty?”

“We should be professional,” He shrugged, “We’re not really advertising sex. We’re just getting all we can stand? Right?”

“I could use a little bit more...” I blushed to admit.

“You and me both sister,” Eden chuckled.

“Oh, fuck,” Matt rubbed his nose, “I mean, it helps with Sara or now Melody but I—Do you think I should let my friends in? I mean Craps and Phoebe seem to be getting along.”

“No.” Eden barked. I agreed. Craps set me off in weird ways.

“I didn’t mean for you,” He reached over and rubbed Eden’s leg, “Or Janine.” But not me, apparently.

“We already get each other off,” Not that I was gay, “We could do more of that?”

“I don’t mind it,” Eden hazarded, “Like with Gwendolyn or Ms Flynn but I feel real strange if Tiffany’s around, you know?”

“I guess,” I didn’t. Tiffany was very sincere about everything. I hated Raena.

“Well, good, I guess,” Matt said, “Anyway. We need clear blue shirts and black pants.”

“Black bottoms?” Eden suggested, “Trust me you want to put Dawn in a skirt.”

“And you too.” I retorted, almost like a counterpunch.

“Oh, yeah, I guess--”

“We should do white bottoms,” Eden declared, “Makes the color scheme a bit more cheery.”

“Yeah, that works,” Matt shrugged, “I don’t own any white pants, so let’s hit up Slate’s.”

“I need a blue shirt,” I replied.

“Sweetie, you need all new clothes.” Eden shook her head. I was more comfortable with that than with her compliment of my legs. I never did get my answer to who were Drowning Miranda. I had a phone. I didn’t look. Could I have? I had asked Matt and received nothing. I didn’t look.

Slate’s was across the street in a small strip mall from The Halifax Shopping Centre. It was attached to the Wal-Mart. We started in the mall. Eden had her purse. I barely had pockets. Matt paid for both of us. Four salesgirls, all too large or too ugly for Matt. Eden seemed pleased to keep the slap bands in her purse. I didn’t carry any. Was Eden trusted in ways I wasn’t? I doubted it. Matt probably just didn’t have extras when we crossed paths.

I was wearing the white skirt out of the store. I was walking in new shoes. No heels, Eden nixed that idea. You didn’t wear heels and serve. Good. I’d worn heels three times since Matt found me. I’d fallen over twice. My shirt was in the bag, with my bleach pitted sweatpants. I’d change out of my grungy t-shirt when it was time to go to work. I assumed I was going to spill something on myself in the interim.

“Hey, who’s still wearing temporary bracelets?” Matt asked. We could’ve just left but he was looking at the elevators. That redhead in the jewelry store worked upstairs. The Indian girl wasn’t at the virgin kiosk and Matt was sour about that. I had her number. I didn’t volunteer it.

“Uh, is anyone?” I wore a single silver braided chain. Eden had on a clipped closed gold loop.

“Kelly,” Eden tapped her lip, “And, shit, Aimee?”

“Who’s Aimee?” I asked in stereo with Matt.

“The tattoo girl? Pierced Melody’s tongue,” Eden said, “I haven’t met her either.”

“Fuck, what is that? Rule 7? Shit.”

“Rule 8.” I reminded.

“Yeah, 7 was mothers and kids,” Eden shook her head.

“Well, we’ll find something for Kelly then,” Matt headed for the escalator.

“Am I your girlfriend again?” Eden stepped on the stair right behind him. I was two more down.

“Of course, babe,” He pulled her hip in and kissed her, “I mean, you went out with me because you wanted to.”

“I went out with you not to be a bitch,” Eden smiled, “You were always a decent guy. Food and theatre wouldn’t suck even if I hadn’t expected us to click.”

“Well,” He lifted her bracelet by the clasp, “Click.”

“Click,” Eden smiled broadly. We all did that. We had fun back at him. I sometimes doubted that it was honest but it was always genuine.

“Oh my God! Where the fuck have you been!” Cleo, that was name of the jewelry store redhead. Jesus christ was she well built. 5’8’’, curly vivid red hair, long legs and torso, a flat tummy and big tits. Just the hint of freckles and a wide worried frown.

“I, uh, I, Hi!”

“Hi,” She had stormed into the hallway and smacked him, “You’ve missed everything. Why don’t we have each other on facebook?”

“Uh, I got your texts,” He scratched his head as I hurried after them into the store. She was the only one there besides a pretty bemused older woman, “Congratulations.”

I looked down and saw the rock on her left index finger. Shit. That was big enough to knock down a building.

“Congratulations!” Eden elbowed Matt for his lack of excitement and hugged Cleo. I hung back.

“Yeah, Warren and I have been together three years,” She bounced on her feet, “I can’t believe it. I didn’t even know he was shopping for the ring.”

“That seems weird,” Matt shrugged, “I mean, why not get your commission on it too. Seems like a big decision to hide from you.”

“Huh, I guess it is weird,” Her face twisted in a strangle of emotions. She smacked Matt again, “and where was my best friend? I’m going to need a man of honor.”

“He was putting together his business,” Eden reached into Matt’s pocket and pulled out a gold card case. That was ostentatious for Matt. He wore dull clothes and no metal. She flicked open the case and Cleo gleefully snatched the card.

“Babybird? Like on Kline Street?” Cleo said, “I thought that was owned by that black woman.”

There was a cadence to her language that suggest that woman wasn’t her first choice of nouns.

“Yeah, Robin and I have known each other for over a decade,” He recounted not noticing Cleo’s distaste. He was slow on the uptake though and that didn’t surprise me. Eden played cool with it, so I assumed it was Robin aversion not a black woman aversion, “She got her red seal in, uh, in my kitchen.”

“You’re kitchen?” I smirked.

“Well, It was Everett’s kitchen a the time,” He gave me a mocking glare.

“Good for you,” Cleo punched him again. Light and in the shoulder. He kept grinning about it.