Chapter Nine: Fast Friends
SHE watched the tall blonde man hurry after Daniel, calling out to him as he left. Painfully aware of the audience she’d picked up in the restaurant, Nicolette struggled to master her emotions. She wanted desperately to fade into the background, to reclaim the invisibility restaurant employees frequently enjoyed. As quickly as her tears had started, she got them under control. She shook her head, her voice thick with emotion as she quietly murmured, “Well that sucked.”
She jumped as the last remaining member of Daniel's group, standing almost at Nikki’s elbow, quietly murmured back, “Yeah, sorry about that. He’s been kind of on edge lately.”
Nicolette studied the petite blonde standing just to the right of her podium, fascinated by the arresting blue of her eyes.
She dresses well, she thought, taking in the summery designer dress, the Jimmy Choo shoes, all overlaid with a tailored Armani men’s jacket (probably chivalrously offered to her by her date). She hoped her date was the tall blonde man that had pursued Daniel out of the restaurant and not Daniel. As the other woman smiled at her, Nicolette felt cheap and drab in comparison, with her thrift-store clothes and generic brand shoes. She resisted an urge to pull her cardigan closed as the other woman’s eyes fell on her necklaces. Her gaze momentarily fixated on the inner pendant, leaving Nikki with the certainty that she recognized the symbol. Nikki was suddenly annoyed at herself, at her cringing defensiveness. She straightened her back, staring at the other woman defiantly, though she couldn’t fully hide the catch in her breath as they studied each other.
She watched as the woman broke into a sunny smile and offered her hand, “I’m Shelly -- Shelly Weber.”
Nicolette automatically took the proffered hand, feeling the woman’s cool skin against her palm as they briefly clasped hands. Before she could introduce herself, Shelly volunteered, “I know you’re Nikki -- Nicolette Cooper!”
“I...yes. How did you know?”
Shelly’s smile became sly, perhaps a little bit self-satisfied, “You don’t remember me, do you?”
She struggled to pull her gaze back from the doorway, from Daniel. She studied the woman’s face, feeling a faint hint of familiarity, though no specific memory came to mind. She apologetically conceded, “No, I’m sorry.”
Shelly laughed, her body language inclusive and welcoming as she lightly patted Nicolette’s arm, “It was forever ago -- we met at Beach Party when I crashed it after my Freshman year. You and Daniel rescued me from those creepy junior college guys that crashed it.”
A faint memory stirred, something about a petite, scared looking girl that had gotten separated from her group. Nicolette unconsciously swiped her hand across her cheeks as she felt an answering smile, the other woman’s friendliness insulating her from her distress.
“You were wearing a tartan skirt?”
Shelly clapped her hands as she laughed, then surprised Nicolette when she stepped forward and hugged her, “You do remember! I was still pretty mousey back then.”
Nicolette reluctantly stepped away, half turning as she heard the distinctive gait of Harry’s manager, Mr. Solis. She couldn’t completely suppress her sigh at the heavy slapping of his dress shoes as he approached. Ernesto Solis was a portly man that once might have carried his weight well, but had fallen prey to a sedentary lifestyle. To Nikki’s eye, he always seemed like a man achingly conscious of his working class roots as he attempted to project an air of upper class patrician dignity. He unconsciously pulled his tailored jacket closed and buttoned the top button as he stumped up to the podium, his dismay giving rise to equal dismay in Nikki. While he was capable of being loud and demanding, his primary mode seemed more passive-aggressive than anything else. Aware that Shelly -- a potential customer, not to mention an attractive, well-dressed woman -- was watching, he put on his best authoritative-but-trying-hard-to-appear-sympathetic face on, “Miss Cooper,” it was always Miss Cooper never Nikki or Nicolette, “what happened here?”
She hesitated, then immediately regretted her hesitation as some subtle shift in his expression suggested he had been prepared to shift the blame to her if she gave the slightest indication of guilt. Nicolette once again mused that Harry’s owner must have hired her over Mr. Solis’ objections. Doubtless his displeasure was further exacerbated by her refusal to cooperate with the narrative of lazy recidivism he desperately tried to project onto her. His narrative had been repeatedly thwarted by her uncomplaining industriousness. Her willingness to take on whatever work he foisted on her gave him little leverage to prove the wisdom of his dislike...which only served to increase his dislike further.
Before Nicolette could answer, Shelly stepped forward and offered her hand, causing his semi-concerned frown to deepen as he half-heartedly took her hand, “I’m sorry, sir -- my friend had a little too much to drink at the club and accidentally broke the glass when he left.”
She broke his unenthusiastic grip and dug in the pocket of the jacket she was wearing, coming up with a business card, “Please feel free to contact Dane -- Mr. Mazlewski -- I’m sure we can settle any damages.”
Mr. Solis accepted the card as though she was offering him an unpleasantly moist dishrag; he pocketed it without even pausing to look at it. He turned to Nicolette with one eyebrow raised, clearly unsatisfied when she nodded in agreement, but just as clearly unwilling to contradict Shelly directly. He patted Nicolette’s elbow awkwardly, “Well, I’m glad to hear he didn’t cause more serious harm. If he comes back, by all means, call 9-1-1.”
Nikki dutifully nodded, adopting an earnest expression, “Sure thing, Mr. Solis.”
She gestured across the glass and sand covered lobby floor, “I’ll clean this up right now,” she leaned to her right, raising her hand to catch the bartender’s eye. He nodded in acknowledgement, then quickly flagged down one of the bar-backs.
Mr. Solis patted her elbow awkwardly again, “Very good. Why don’t you go home when you’re done, Miss Cooper -- it looks like business is slowing down. I’ll ask Mick to board up the window before we lock up.”
He transferred his gaze to Shelly, adopting his formal dressing down voice, “Thank you, Miss...”
“Weber.”
“Miss Weber. I strongly advise you to tell your friend that he’s not welcome here in the future.”
Shelly nodded, “Of course. I’m terribly sorry about the mess. It won’t happen again.”
Mr. Solis nodded, favored Nikki with a final parting remonstrative glance, then slapped his way back to his office, doubtless to call the owner and make arrangements for the broken window...and likely give the owner an earful about her, if he could. Nikki fought the urge to flip off his retreating back, suddenly and surprisingly angry at him. She was acutely aware of the subtext, subtext which blamed her for any ills that might befall the restaurant whether they were manmade or acts of God.
Abruptly, her outrage wilted, leaving a grey despairing sadness in its wake. What was the point of all this if she couldn’t patch things up...
She let the thought drop as one of the bar backs -- Rob -- rushed forward, carrying a broom and dustpan. As Nikki accepted the broom, Shelly held out her hand, “Here, let me. It was my friend that broke it.”
Surprised, Nikki looked at Shelly in her expensive shoes and designer dress offering to sweep up broken glass and some kid’s tracked-in beach sand and felt her opinion of Shelly rise further, “No, but thank you; I’m getting paid to do this, after all.”
She smiled bitterly as she added, “And if anyone’s going to take the blame for Daniel’s behavior, I think my claim predates yours by, like, years.”
Shelly frowned thoughtfully, but offered no further comment.
Nicolette hesitated, finding herself on unfamiliar ground, “I’m guessing you can’t go anywhere until your man comes back.”
Shelly giggled, “‘My man’.” A small pleased smile played about her lips, “He is mine, isn’t he?”
The
dreamy expression left as she recalled herself to the conversation, “He’d probably be unhappy if I left without him...”
Nicolette gestured toward the chairs lining the waiting area, “You’re more than welcome to wait here until he comes back.”
Shelly nodded agreeably, “Sure.”
As Nikki bent to her task, she glanced at Shelly, studying her, feeling her silence like a physical weight. She caught the other woman staring at her necklaces again. Nikki unconsciously touched the encircled-triangle hanging around her throat like a choker. As their eyes met, she once again unconsciously sensed that Shelly understood its significance. Nikki braced herself for the inevitable questions. She should be used to it by now, but in truth, she felt bruised every time it came up in conversation. Nevertheless, she refused to hide it, to put up a false front and pretend she was something that she wasn’t.
She watched Shelly defiantly, I am what I am.
Shelly’s expression softened as she watched the emotions play across Nicolette’s face.
“We all have our stories,” she murmured, her tone full of sympathy.
As the silence stretched, Nicolette realized that Shelly wasn’t going to press for details. She felt gratitude and relief wash through her, surprised that this petite stranger could be so insightful and simultaneously understanding. She was still struggling with her own emotions, fighting through her disappointment and despair in the aftermath of her unexpected encounter with Daniel. She had hoped she’d have more time to prepare for their meeting, but coming as unexpectedly as it had, her guard had been down. She forced herself to take deep breaths and focus on the work at hand, to distract herself with work from this strange girl watching her sweep broken glass.
She was spared from having to make a reply when a middle aged couple passed through the lobby on their way out, sparing Nikki a curious glance. She forced a professional smile, hoping the wateriness of her eyes didn’t undermine her professional facade. As the door swung back, Nikki finished sweeping the mingled broken glass and sand into a little pile, surreptitiously resuming her study of the other woman. With slow-dawning surprise, Nicolette realized that under different circumstances, she would have been attracted to her. Sensing Nicolette’s approval without fully understanding it, she blushed under Nicolette’s scrutiny.
To break the sudden awkwardness, Nicolette began sweeping the glass into the dust pan as she unsuccessfully feigned nonchalance while asking, “How long have you known Daniel?”
Shelly smiled, “Oh, about three years, I think; maybe a little less. He was a security guy at Dane’s club while he pulled himself together. He quit after he got his paramedic’s license...or certification...whatever it is paramedics get in order to work.”
Nikki frowned as she straightened up, “Put himself back together?”
Shelly looked genuinely surprised, “After he got back from the Army.”
Nicolette blinked, her mind struggling to catch up, “The Army! That’s crazy! What on Earth...”
Her voice faltered as she realized her departure and his enlistment were probably related.
Shelly smiled sympathetically, “I don’t know many of the details...or...to be totally honest, I don’t think it’s really my place to go into too many details. He was struggling when he got back, though.”
His hand...is that...
She cut the thought off, wishing she hadn’t heard any of this, knowing that now wasn’t the time to let herself feel any of the associated guilt.
Nikki hesitated, scanning the interior of the restaurant without really seeing anything, as she involuntarily replayed the encounter through the lens of Shelly’s information.
“He was so angry. I didn’t expect that he’d be so angry,” she murmured softly.
Shelly held her silence, waiting Nikki out. Feeling at a loss, only half aware she was speaking out loud, Nicolette asked, “What do I do?”
She hated the plaintive, little-girl-lost note that involuntarily crept into her voice.
“Right now? Go to coffee with me and Dane...when he gets back,” she added encouragingly.
Shelly’s face lit up as another thought followed on the heels of her invitation, “You know...we’re going to a place up in the city next Friday. You should come with Dane and me!”
Dane strode through the doorway, his shoes crunching on broken glass still littering the sidewalk, “Sounds good! Go where?”
Shelly slapped at his arm in mock irritation as she stood, “You were eavesdropping!”
He leaned away from her, holding up his hands in surrender, “I wasn’t!”
His playful smile seemed strained to Nikki; she wondered what exactly it was Daniel and Dane had been talking about, though she noted he had returned without Daniel. Nikki wanted to wilt with mingled disappointment and relief as she realized her one brief encounter left her unsatisfied, wanting to see him again, perhaps see if there was anything in his expression that might give her reason for hope...but simultaneously feeling unprepared to field his hostility.
They were talking about me, most likely, she thought.
He paused, his playful smile fading as he glanced around the lobby, “Where’s Tommy?”
Nikki and Shelly exchanged a puzzled glance as Shelly answered, “We thought he went with you guys.”
Nicolette caught the subtle, inclusive emphasis on ‘we’, feeling a little tingle of warmth that Shelly would so quickly adopt her.
Dane shook his head in puzzlement, “He must have bailed when things started to get dramatic. That kid can be a slippery fish, sometimes.”
Shelly looked up at Dane as she insinuated herself under his right arm, “Let’s go to the fish place -- I think Harry’s is going to be a bust,” she smiled at Nikki as she added, “Nikki’s going to join us.”
Dane studied Nikki thoughtfully for a second, his easy smile infectious despite her unsettled emotions.
“Sure thing, babe.”
He leaned over and kissed the top of Shelly’s head as he momentarily freed his arm to offer it to Nicolette. “Dane. Dan Mazlewski.”
She took his hand, smiling, “Nicolette Cooper.”
His smile widened, becoming less strained, “Pleased to meet’ya!”
“Let me finish up here,” she said, feeling the first glimmer of hope since she’d returned.