Chapter Twelve
Sisemite wasn’t far from their workplace, but Freddie still grabbed the aux cord before Daron had time to object. Still, he was surprised that she put on one of the few artists they could occasionally...tentatively...agree on, Coheed and Cambria. He didn’t say anything as he adjusted his seat back a little. He hadn’t driven Freddie that morning, so he had left his belly precariously close to the steering wheel for a guest to see, he had realized as he squeezed into the car. Sucking in a little, hopefully conspicuously, Daron fastened the seat belt around himself as they pulled out of Xander’s parking lot.
“I know it kinda sucks, but like, at least they’re getting her some help,” Freddie was prattling. “Just in case. You know. It’s like baptizing a baby. Might as well.”
“What? Are you baptized?”
“Well, no. But I guess if I had a kid and my partner wanted to, I would. ‘Cause why not?”
“I’m not sure where to start with why not, Thornberry,” Daron replied. “Waste of time and money? Could be doing literally anything else? Not supporting an archaic institution and tradition?”
“Point taken, I guess,” Freddie sighed. “But if it’s like....you can either suck it up and have what amounts to basically just a party for the kiddo, AND ALSO all the support of modern medicine and ****? OR you can have NEITHER? I mean. Choice seems obvious.”
“But we’re only having to make that choice because of idiots like that procreating,” Daron said, tilting his head in his guess of a direction towards Erika’s house. “Her family drove her to this point and feeding into the delusion with an exorcism isn’t going to help. All that’ll help is getting out.”
“Well, maybe therapy will be a good step towards that,” Freddie replied as they turned into the lot for Sisemite.
“Yeah, maybe,” Daron conceded, turning off his car as they looked at the dive bar in front of them. Sisemite didn’t look like much from the outside, but inside, there was stained glass that allowed in the perfect amount of mood lighting and quality seating set ups. The drinks and food were decent, with general portions. And they were still in time for happy hour.
Xander and Julie were already inside, in a large semi-circular booth for 4 or 5, depending on the size of the patrons. Xander sat closest to the edge, and Julie was in the middle. Daron hesitated only for a moment before he began to scoot into the booth on the opposite end. He felt panic grip his heart as he noticed the table push stubbornly back into his rounded middle, but a second later, he realized the table was giving a little as he steadied himself with his hand. It wasn’t bolted down, thank god.
“Sorry man,” Daron said to Xander as he shuffled the table back a bit away from his soft gut, feeling heat rising in his face. Xander accepted the table being moved closer to him with a smile.
“No problem,” he said, helping Daron to move the table along the ground away from his employee. Freddie, luckily, was distracted by another patron seated across from them that she’d managed to make friends with in the 30 seconds since they entered the establishment.
“Have a good day,” she told them with a grin before turning back just as Daron finished scooting in next to Julie. Hopping down easily next to him, tons of room to spare, Freddie snatched a menu from the middle of the table (thankfully not mentioning now how much farther it was away from her than usual).
“Is it too early for a gin and tonic? It’s just so good here,” she said as she flipped the pages back and forth. “And a crazy good price for being all local ingredients.”
“Get whatever you want, Freddie,” Xander said.
“Ooohhh...I may do that too,” Julie said.
“Whoa, calm down over there,” Daron said dryly to the woman next to him. Julie flushed.
“The kids are being watched until 8 at least, I wasn’t sure how long we’d be working today…”
“Julie, I’m kidding. You go crazy,” Daron assured. A server approached the table, asking if they knew what they wanted.
“Two gin and tonics,” Freddie blurted before the young man in front of them could fully finish his sentence. She blushed a little as her coworkers chuckled.
“I’ll have the pilsner,” Xander said.
“Coffee porter,” Daron said. “And the nachos, teriyaki wings, and...the fried pickles. Thanks.”
“Cheese fries!” Freddie burst when it became clear Daron had ended his list. “Please. Don’t worry, I’ll share,” she added as the server nodded and left with their order.
“Cool, I won’t,” Daron said. They laughed again. There was a tinge of relief to it. It had been a long couple of days. At first the conversation hedged on the safe side, but as they received their drinks and began to imbibe, the case began to come up.
“I have seen too many people who really need help but won’t get it,” Xander said, shaking his head as he finished up his frosty, light beer. “Ever since Psychic Adventures. It’s heartbreaking. At least this family would compromise.”
“Thank goodness. That poor girl,” Julie said. “She needs it. But this has certainly been a strange one.”
“I’ve argued for less convincing exorcisms, that’s for sure,” Xander said.
“Why?” Daron asked, exasperated. He started to say more, but he caught a sharp elbow in his soft side. Looking over, startled, he saw Freddie giving him a dark look. Realizing he had just been about to say the same exact things that had caused him and Freddie to be fighting most of the day, Daron sighed and closed his mouth.
“Just in case. There are cases where it will definitely do more good than anything else. And I know, sometimes it does harm. But I’ve been doing this awhile and have learned to truly weigh the costs.”
“It just...makes me…crazy to see people treated that way,” Daron admitted, thinking about the poor young girl surrounded by, in his mind, zealots. Forcing her mind into this state. The server dropped off the wings to start, weaving through people. The bar was starting to fill up a little more. Xander motioned for another round of drinks.
“Not all religious people feel trapped that way,” Julie said gently. Daron snorted.
“Maybe not, but it sure as **** doesn’t help.”
“Sometimes,” Julie conceded.
“Oh please, you’re not an idiot, Daron. You know some people find actual comfort in whatever spirituality,” Freddie chimed in, finishing her gin and tonic with a flourish. “Just because most institutions encourage a lack of individuality doesn’t make anyone with beliefs bad.”
“I don’t think I said that, Miss Queen of Hyperbole over there,” Daron replied wryly.
“You’re acting like it and you know it!”
“I’m just pleased to have such a diverse team,” Xander said with a grin, helping himself to one of Daron’s wings. Daron glared, but not sincerely. He was glad someone besides the fat guy was eating as he stripped teriyaki-dripping meat off the bone rather than snap back at Freddie. Moments later, drinks and cheese fries arrived, which caused Freddie’s expression to lift from its fierceness into a pleased grin.
Halfway through their second round, and most of the way through all the food, conversation was still lively. Daron was diligently ignoring the fact that, now approaching full, his belly was close to touching the nearly fully pushed back table. Taking a sip of his second porter, Daron cast a look over his shoulder and saw a girl, lanky and short-haired in her late 20s or so, keeping a curious eye on their table. She didn’t notice Daron, keeping her eyes on the animatedly chatting Freddie as she sipped her dark iced drink.
Soon, though, the tall girl saw Daron. Grey eyes met his dark brown ones, and she took another sip of her drink, clearly taking her time as she thought. Daron, concerned, didn’t break eye contact, but did semi-set his porter on the wide shelf of his belly. It sunk in a little into the soft flesh, despite the hearty stock of bar food now digesting in it. Meanwhile, the girl seemed to make a decision, and she began to move towards their table.
“So all I can think is - you know - who stays married for forty years and still needs to be on the phone to keep in touch with their spouse all day?” Freddie was laughing as she told the table about a former coworker at the police department.
“Or what had they done to make that necessary,” Xander added, pointing a dark finger at Freddie and giving her a knowing look. Freddie laughed and touched her nose in a “you got it” move.
“Exactly! What was this dude getting up to that made her think she needed to call the department every hour?"
Julie was laughing along, but right before the mystery girl reached their table, Freddie realized that Daron wasn’t as invested in her story as the rest of them.
“Hey…” she said, turning to him, and seeing his eyes following something nearby. Swiveling again, Freddie saw the girl as she approached and stopped in front of their booth. Freddie’s sentence stopped as abruptly as it began.
Up close, the girl was even leaner than Daron had seen under the polar fleece vest she was wearing over a loose, artistic tee-shirt. She had a very androgynous look to her, between the relaxed fit and her short, swept hairstyle. If she wasn’t as tall as Daron, she wouldn’t have been much shorter.
“Hey Fred,” she spoke with a low but projected voice. It filled the space.
“Victoria,” Freddie said, her voice quiet and practically swallowed by the girl’s greeting. Xander and Julie exchanged a glance, but Daron, in his semi-coma of food and beer, drew a blank. He did gather enough of his wits to move his porter from the top of his soft tummy back to the table, at least.