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Dogs Chase Squirrels 12 - Damage Control
🕑 Added 2020-04-11 18:00:03 +0000 UTCIrene could feel the wind nipping at her cheeks as she whizzed past a car going fifteen miles per hour slower than it should have been. Her arm reached out to flip the bird at the driver as she passed them by. Her moped was still a champ during the winter months, whether it was on surface or highway, and the last thing she needed was someone who didn’t know how to drive in clear conditions to slow her down.
She was still dressed in her work attire, deciding she’d rather hit the road than go back home. Today was her last day at the call center, and her going-away party was pleasant enough. Hell, the fact that the staff wanted to throw her a party was a surprise in itself, considering she uncharacteristically kept to herself while she was on the clock. It was Rick’s idea, of course -- he sprung for a nice taco from a local restaurant to cater, along with picking up a cheap (if still tasty) cake from the grocery store. It was just enough to convince her that sitting on the building as a parting gift might have been in poor taste. It was still a tempting thought.
She did decide to leave a nice dent in Rick’s car door on her way out, swinging her hip into the metal surface for good measure. The little bastard still had the guts to leave his phone number on a dirty napkin of all things, all while she was crunching into a taco filled with chicken, pico de gallo, and plenty of spicy habanero salsa. Still, he was a nice guy, if not a total creep. It was a good thing she got to leave an hour early -- he’d never know she was the culprit. And if he found out? Well, she could still make good on her fantasy to dangle him off the roof by his tail.
The squirrel wasn’t sure what she’d do for money in the meantime. She hadn’t heard back from the temp agency about any new job openings, and considering the holiday season was just around the corner, their silence left more than a little perplexed. But that was a problem she could chew on later, and her band gigs would at least provide her with some form of income. Right now, she was free.
Completely free.
Free to do...what, exactly?
She had enough money to get through the month, but only just; a night on the town wouldn’t be a wise use of her cash. She could have someone shoulder the cost, but her choices were limited. Seymour was working his night job tonight. Zara was on a band tour of her own; she probably wouldn’t be around until January, at the earliest. Maybe Frank was free --
Wait. No. Holy shit, did she actually want to hang out with Frank? Now she knew she was desperate.
Well. There was always the librarian, she supposed. She’d gone silent again, and this time, Irene decided to give her the space she wanted. That was over a week ago. Irene was already getting antsy; did she really fuck things up that badly?
Irene glanced up at the highway sign just before it flew past her. She cursed out loud -- she had missed her exit.
Wait. The next exit coming up connected to I-25 a mile later. If she took that exit, she could be in Pinewood in twenty minutes, tops.
No. She was going to give Camelia space. Forcing the issue is what got her into so much trouble in the first place. She wasn’t going to fuck this up. Not this time.
Her stomach began to rumble, interrupting her thoughts. Apparently, despite having an entire tray full of delectable food to chew on for lunch, she hadn’t had her fill yet. It would take just as long for her to go home if she decided to backtrack. The chances of Camelia working at her library tonight were high, and she knew where the librarian lived, too. She could just swing by, say hello, and head out. That wouldn’t be too much.
After she indulged herself with a fat, juicy burger, covered in deliciously runny fried egg, first. Two birds with one stone.
She was already salivating as she drifted into the next lane, slowing down to merge into the exit lane towards the canine and another delicious dinner.
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Irene stepped through McCarthy’s door in earnest, arm draped over her helmet. The restaurant was busier this time around, filled with both students and faculty mulling over textbooks and scribbled notes. She chuckled to herself, recalling the last time she pored over notes written in her terrible handwriting. She’d usually spend half her night deciphering what she wrote down in her haste to get it all on paper instead of actually remembering the lesson itself.
A short grey rabbit waitress greeted her not too long after she entered, a cordial smile on her face. “Welcome to McCarthy’s!” she exclaimed. “How can I...help --” Her face went blank as she looked at the squirrel, tilting her head curiously. “Wait. Aren’t you…?”
Irene didn’t recognize the waitress at first, her own memory a bit foggy. She let out an oh once it came to her. “Hey, you’re the waitress from last time! Good to see you!”
The rabbit’s cheeks puffed out, her expression grumpy. Clearly, she remembered who Irene was at the same time. “Hmph. I’m guessing you’re here for her, then?”
“What? No, I’m just here to have a burger.”
“Hmph,” she repeated, taking a menu in a huff. She waved her arm to the back of the restaurant, toward an isolated bench at the furthest corner of the restaurant. “Sit over there.”
“Um, okay.” Irene walked towards the bench with a wary expression, setting her helmet down on the table once she took her seat. The waitress plopped the menu down on the table, to which Irene waved it off. “Oh, I know what I want.”
“Uh huh,” she said flippantly, reaching for a small notepad in the pocket of her apron. “What’ll it be?”
“The Sunnyside Up burger, please. Medium rare, and with a cup of the house blend.”
“Uh huh.” She jotted down a few notes quickly, then sprinted off to the kitchen, leaving the brown squirrel alone.
“Yeesh. What’s her deal?” she said aloud as she pulled out her phone. Still no call from Camelia; no texts, no messages, nothing. Her ears flicked at the conversations taking place around her, arousing a feeling of nostalgia inside of her. Holiday plans, the incoming dread of Finals week, what they were planning to do during the weekend, it was all familiar territory. Someone had placed a coin into the jukebox on the opposite end of the restaurant as Come Fly With Me played through the speakers installed throughout the building -- the one piece of modern technology that betrayed McCarthy’s otherwise-authentic 50’s diner motif.
A clatter of plates brought Irene back to attention as the waitress returned, placing her meal down on the table. The food itself looked fine, although its messy plating left a lot to be desired. The rabbit placed a cup down on the table, holding a pot filled with coffee in her other hand. “House blend, yeah?”
“Yeah. Black is fine.”
“Uh huh.” The rabbit began to pour coffee into the cup, until it reached the edge of the cup -- and then spilled over, making a mess of the table as the waitress continued pouring. Irene scrambled back as the hot liquid began to pour onto the bench, nearly splashing onto her legs. Her eyes shot up at the rabbit, irritated.
“Okay, you want to tell me what the hell your problem is?” Irene barked out.
The rabbit placed the pot down with another clatter, betraying her customer service skills as a few eyes shot towards her. “You know damn well what my problem is! You hurt her feelings.”
“Oh my God, are you kidding me right now?”
“She came to me in tears, did you know that? There’s only one reason she’d be that upset, and I’m looking right at her.”
Irene sighed. “That’s no reason to take it out on my food!” She looked at the rabbit’s name tag. “Ashley.”
“How could you be so cruel, trying to make her do such awful things? She’s not your puppet, you know!”
Irene’s face ran hot. “I know! I know. That’s why I’m here. Well, the other reason I’m here.” She poked her finger at the burger bun; it squished against her touch in an unappetizing way. “I wanted to apologize.”
“I don’t think she wants to talk to you, Irene.”
“That’s...yeah, I expected that.” Irene closed her eyes. “I get it. I fucked up.”
Ashley’s expression remained stern, but her tone softened. She took the seat opposite the squirrel’s, taking out a cloth to mop up the spilled coffee. “You really hurt her.”
“I said I’m sorry, already!”
Ashley stopped in the middle of her task, crossing her arms in front of her to prop herself on the table. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to, you know.”
Irene smirked slightly. “Geez, you don’t let up, you know that?”
“I’ve been told I can be a bit stubborn, yes.” Ashley sighed. “You know, you’re nothing like what Camelia told me about you.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That you’re loud. Brash. Inconsiderate.”
“Oof. Sorry I asked.” Irene relented, looking defeated. Ashley pulled back as well.
“...okay, I lied. That’s what I thought of you. She was a lot nicer about it.”
A flash of anger crossed the squirrel’s face, but it faded as quickly as it came. “Thank you, you’ve made your point. Can you please stop rubbing it in?”
“Camelia really likes you, Irene. Like, a lot. But you’re trying to make her something she isn’t. She didn’t appreciate that. And neither do I.”
Irene’s ears flicked, then folded as she felt her mood turn. She placed her head in her hands. “So, she told you about last week.”
“She did.”
“Figures. She probably thinks I’m a monster.”
“No, she doesn’t. She thinks she’s one, though.” Ashley’s expression changed at that moment, from anger to concern. “She’s had a hard time at work lately. She’s training a new guy, and apparently she’s been trying to set up a book sale on campus and the head honchos are giving her hell over it.”
“Oh. Shit. She didn’t tell me that.”
Ashley shrugged. “Apparently the Dean said some pretty mean shit to her, and it’s been eating away at her ever since.”
“Fuck. I didn’t know. Why didn’t she say anything about it?”
“Camelia doesn’t like to pester people about her problems. Don’t even ask how I managed to pry that much out of her.” The rabbit looked out the window. “You couldn’t have known.”
The squirrel lowered one of her arms, resting the other in the palm of her hand. “So what do I do? I don’t want her to be mad at me.”
“She’s...she’s not.” Ashley snuck her finger across the table, stealing a fry off the plate to chew on. “Not really, anyway. But you really should apologize. If she’ll let you.”
“Yeah. Of course.” Irene tried to smile. “Any chance we could start over? Doesn’t help my case if her friends are steamed at me, too.”
Ashley hmmed to herself. “I suppose we can work things out. If you buy me a milkshake.” She allowed herself a wry grin.
“Heh. All of this started because of a milkshake, you know. You’re tempting fate, Ms. Waitress.”
“I prefer the term barista. It sounds fancier. Inaccurate, given the time period we’re supposed to be emulating, but fancier.”
Irene couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, barista. Milkshake’s on me. If you make me a fresh burger. I think my appetite is coming back.”
“Look at you making demands. You’re a terrible negotiator.” Ashley smiled as she stood up, helping to buss the table. “But I can see why Camelia likes you so much. Too bad she got to you first.”
The squirrel woman blushed. “Oh, you better not let her hear you say that. She might get jealous.”
“Oh, she’s not the jealous type. But I am.” Ashley gave Irene a wink as she retreated back into the kitchen to help place a fresh order.
As the time passed by, Irene looked out the window, noticing how dark it had become. The days had grown shorter without her realizing it, and despite the hour, many customers had paid for their meal and left, leaving the restaurant much quieter than when she first arrived. Exams must have been approaching faster than she remembered, as the few customers that remained were much older, among them several professors who had completed their lessons hours ago.
Ashley snapped her back to attention, placing a plate of hot food in front of her -- another Sunnyside Up burger, its composition and plating much neater than the first one she received. She poured a fresh cup coffee for the squirrel, being careful not to spill this time, before sitting aside the squirrel on the opposite bench. In front of her was a large vanilla milkshake, mixed into a fountain shoppe glass. Irene smirked as she watched.
“You sure you have time for a coffee break? Dinner rush could be here any minute.”
Ashley chuckled, taking a sip of the creamy concoction. “Enh, this week’s been pretty slow. Not that I mind. I don’t mind being busy, but I like my down time a lot more.” She gestured to the other employees that continued to clean the tables and take orders from arriving customers. “Besides, I’ve been on my feet all day. My crew can handle things.”
“Heh. If you say so.” Irene pressed down on the burger’s bun, allowing the yolk to run over the edges of the patty and into the bread, before taking a bite. She chirred with delight -- it was still as delicious as ever. “Okay, you’ve got to tell me your secret. These burgers are so damn good, I can’t get enough of them.”
“Nope. Trade secret.”
“Aw.” Irene pouted, her lower lip protruding. The bunny giggled happily, her short tail wiggling back and forth out of the squirrel’s sight as she continued to enjoy her milkshake.
“Okay, enough banter. Let’s get to the good stuff -- all the stuff Camelia wouldn’t tell me, anyway.” Ashley gave the squirrel a playful, knowing look. “She told me you play for a band. Anyone I know?”
“Not unless you’re a jazz fan. I play for a band called Revelation. We usually perform at Jazz At Night, Downtown.
Ashley’s eyes squinted a bit. “Huh, jazz. Really? Didn’t know people still listened to that stuff.”
“It’s not hard to find a band that plays what you’re in the mood for, if you know where to look. We actually opened for a polka band, once.”
“No shit,” she replied, giggling. “Like I’m one to talk. I’m probably the only person on the planet my age that still likes those cheesy disco songs from the seventies.”
Irene chuckled herself, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s not all that weird. Disco bars are making a comeback -- and yes, they do attract people our age.”
“Heh. And here I thought I was the eccentric one. Here’s to the millennial life.” Ashley raised her glass, with Irene doing the same.
“Cheers to that,” she replied mirthfully, tapping her glass against Ashley’s. As she took a sip of her coffee, saving the creamy aftertaste left behind from her last bite of cheeseburger, she looked outside the window into the dimly-lit street, mulling over a nagging thought. “Hey, Ashley?”
“Call me Ash. All my friends do.”
“Wow, I went from Public Enemy number one to nickname status that fast? Sometimes I amaze myself.” Irene giggled again, but was quick to backpedal, her expression pensive. “Um, don’t take this the wrong way, but...can you tell me more about Camelia?”
Ashley tilted her head, her long ears flopping forward. “Seriously? I mean, you’re going out with her! You’d know more about her than I would! I just know what coffee she likes.”
“Beats what I know. I mean, I don’t even know her last name. How sad is that?”
“Not as sad as you think. She doesn’t tell anyone that.”
“Wait, really? Whatever, that’s not the point. I don’t know a thing about her. What she likes, what she doesn’t, nothing. Well, except that she enjoys being a shifter. Hell, I’m not even sure about that, now.” She slumped into her bench, looking forlorn. “I know it’s really shitty of me to ask for advice from a waitr -- erm, barista -- about the girl I’ve only been dating for a month, but I’m desperate. I don’t want to keep falling into pits trying to decipher who she is.”
Ashley hummed a little, nibbling at the top of her straw. “If I had that answer for you, I’d be dating her myself. She’s never been the best about opening up to others. Don’t even get me started on what it took to get her to talk about work.”
“You mentioned that. Something about a book sale?”
“Yeah,” Ashley said, nodding. “Normally she’s got a handle on things. She treats that library of hers like a second home, but...lately, I’ve seen the stress taking its toll on her.”
“And I’m pretty sure I’ve been adding to it.” Irene couldn’t hide the dejection in her voice. Ashley leaned forward, reassuringly.
“Actually, it’s quite the opposite. She thinks about you a lot. Any stress she’s under on that front has nothing to do with you.”
“Not even our date?”
“No. Well, not by itself. The Camelia I know would just laugh it off or play along, even if it bothered her on the inside. But I think she’s been doubting herself lately, and what you said struck a nerve.”
Irene closed her eyes, nodding. “Figures.” She folded her arms over her chest, her ears folding back.
“Do you like her?”
“Of course I do! I wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t.”
“Then you don’t need my advice.” Ashley smiled softly. “Camelia’s a little strange, but from what I can tell, you and her are a lot alike. You’re just more forward about it.”
Ashley’s words struck a chord inside of the squirrel, forcing her to smile. “That’s probably the nicest thing anyone has said to me all week. I don’t think I’m the bookworm type, though.” Irene reached for a fry, which the rabbit playfully batted away in order to steal another one for herself.
“I didn’t mean it like that, silly! I mean, you’re both so nervous around one another. It’s cute!”
“Wait. I’m the nervous one? No way.”
Ashley wriggled her nose, in that way only rabbits knew how. “It’s true. I’m good at reading people, and it’s written all over your face. She’s got you good, and you don’t know how to handle it.”
The squirrel’s cheeks grew hot, forcing her to look down, and away from the rabbit’s piercing gaze. “Come on, you don’t have to say it like that. God, I feel like I’m in high school again.”
“That’s not a bad thing. It just means you two are still feeling each other out.” Ashley ate her french fry, swallowing before addressing the squirrel, her tone firm. “If you really care about Camelia, you’ll find a way to make this work. Just trust your gut.”
Irene raised her head as if to raise a protest, but knew the rabbit was right. She had been so preoccupied with finding an easy solution to her problem, that she blinded herself to the answer, all this time. “Okay. I will. I mean, it’s never been wrong before, except for every other time it’s been wrong.”
“Oh, stop. You’ll figure this out. At least you better, because I’m very protective of my best customers!” The rabbit gave the taller squirrel woman a wry smile, who gave a grin of her own in reply. She felt a small twinge of concern form in the back of her mind at the squirrel’s grin -- there was an edge to it, one that felt playful, mischievous, but most of all, predatory. “Erm, I might have forgotten that you’re a shifter too. Jesus, even your smiles are the same.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, and you’re forgiven for forgetting. This time.” Irene reached over to tap the barista on the nose, making her blush underneath her white cheeks. She couldn’t help but laugh at the reaction. “Just don’t push your luck. Some squirrels have a taste for rabbit.”
Ashley could feel her knees going weak as she struggled to stand up. “Gosh, both of you are awful teases, you know that?”
“Heh, guess that’s another thing Camelia and I have in common. Oh, I should get going before the library closes.” Irene reached into her wallet to pay for the meal, but Ashley placed her hand on top of the squirrel’s.
“This one’s on me. My treat...and an apology for being rude to you earlier. You still owe me for the milkshake, but I’ll jot that down as an I.O.U. for next time. Just don’t blow your chance. Pretty sure this is the last one you’re going to get.”
Irene nodded. “Right. Thanks, Ash. Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need it, but I’ll cross my toes for you. You know what they say about rabbits and feet, after all.” She gave the squirrel a wink as she walked away, leaving Irene to gather her belongings, her meal left half-eaten.
The moon had already risen by the time Irene hopped onto her moped, starting it up and pulling into the street. It wasn’t hard to spot the library; it was the largest building in that part of town, its weathered brick walls layered in a sea of ivy that ran all the way up to its rooftop. The structure itself was incredibly tall, at least a good three -- no, four stories, capped off with a glass dome at the top of the structure. Most of the library’s windows were unlit, making her worry that she came too late, but a series of cars still remained parked in front of the building’s small lot, including Camelia’s. She breathed a sigh of relief as she parked, making her way up the marbled steps.
“Wow. So she really runs this place,” Irene whispered as she reached the top of the steps. She placed her hand on the door’s handle, yet she couldn’t bring herself to pull. There were too many thoughts running through her brain, too many concerns. She was practically barging into the canine’s territory, unannounced. The last thing she wanted was to be rejected now, but she knew she had come too far to run away. Besides, up until that point, Irene had been letting others guide her on what was best for her relationship, and she hadn’t gotten very far in that regard. Ashley was correct -- she had to do this on her own, and follow her own instincts.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, Irene pulled the door handle and made her way inside.
