(no subject)
It's just... that... I have my silly Torrin!universe stuck in my head...
Title: Just Like You: Etiquette
Pairing: C/Z
Rating: Light R (?)
Warning(s): homophobia, religious themes
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Some people are more contradictory than Zeke could ever strive to be.
“No doughnut?”
Casey turned his head to look in the backseat. “Sorry, hun; 'Honeydew's is closed for a couple weeks. They're making it look nice, remember?” he told Torrin, who made a dramatic sigh.
“Mebbee Bigford's has the doughnuts,” he said.
“You like waffles, right? With whipped cream?” Zeke asked the boy. At Torrin's nod, the man smiled. “Well, you'll get it there.”
“Wiff strawberries?”
“Wiff strawberries.”
Casey snorted once and patted his very-hungry belly. That hunger was about to be sated; Zeke pulled the car into Bickford's lot, parked and they got out. It took everything Casey had to wait for his family instead of running inside straight into the kitchens to make things faster. Zeke took Torrin's hand and led the way. “What're you gonna have? I'm thinking about the 'Threebie' platter.”
“I'm getting the 'Fat Fuck',” Casey said, making Zeke chortle.
Now inside, Casey felt his heart sink. It seemed every table was full, with two families in the waiting area. 'Damn it, Zeke...' he thought his husband's way, secretly bitching him out in his thoughts for needing to make his hair 'presentable'. No movie star on Earth spent as much time on their hair as Zeke, Casey was sure of it.
~*~
Zeke gave Casey a wry smirk from across the table. “There. That didn't take THAT long, did it?”
“Long enough. Starving...” Casey drifted off as he scanned the menu. Their waitress arrived, holding a full pot of coffee.
“Hey, guys; the name's Suzy, I'll be taking care of you today,” The perky-looking young woman said, her hair up in a messy ponytail, face wearing a bright grin. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please,” Zeke said. Casey nodded and smiled back, pushing his mug closer to her.
Once she finished pouring, she looked to the other side of Casey where Torrin sat. She leaned in and beamed. “And who's this little guy? Hi!”
“Tell her your name, kiddo,” Casey said.
“Torrin,” the boy said while tapping his spoon on his nose.
“Ooh, that's a really cool name, I like it. What do you want to drink, sweetie?” Suzy asked.
The boy blinked and looked between his fathers. “Can I get milkshakes, Daddies?” he asked.
“Sure, why not?” Casey said.
Suzy nodded and whipped out her meal-ticket book. “We have chocolate, vanilla and strawberry, which one would you like?”
“Strawberry, cos' I'm getting strawberry waffles, I want that.”
“Hold on, we haven't ordered food yet...” Zeke said, finally grabbing the menu he'd been ignoring. Casey stiffened. He knew what he wanted, damn it; the man was the most talented procrastinator he ever met...
“Strawberry it is. I'll be back in a jiff,” Suzy said.
As she left their aisle, Zeke watched her go with a smile on his face. “Love it when they don't even flinch...”
“Yea, awesome, pick something already,” Casey blurted, slapping his menu down on the table.
“Jeeesus...” Zeke drawled and began looking. As if he knew that Casey would start gnawing on the table should he take too long, he nodded and closed the menu. “Fish and chips sounds good.”
Casey wrinkled his nose. “For breakfast?”
“Yea? You almost always have something breakfast-y at dinner when we go out to places like this, and?”
“SO different.”
Suzy had kept to her word; Casey wanted to know her secret for going light-speed when she returned moments later with Torrin's milkshake. The boy's eyes went wide as the tall glass full of pink milk and cream with strawberry bits was slid over to him. “Be careful, it's really full,” Suzy said.
“Eggsalint,” Torrin said in a drowsy, happy voice.
The girl laughed outright and brought out the pad and pen again, but when another waitress passed by and leaned in quick to hiss, “Church just let out, be warned,” Suzy glanced to the front of the place. Sure enough, large groups of Sunday-best-dressed folks were piling in, the front-of-house girl and guy rummaging through the waiting list to get them all into it.
“Ah. It's gonna get crazy...” she said.
“You must make a ton of tips on Sundays, huh?” Zeke said. Suzy gave him a mysterious smile and tapped her pen in the air.
“So, you're still going for the waffles with strawberries and cream, sweetie?”
Torrin nodded emphatically, adding that he wanted extra whipped cream along with a very polite, “Please?” Casey put his order in next (“The 'Lumberjack', with a blueberry muffin on the side. Oh, and can I get a double-serving of hash browns?”) then Zeke's dinner-breakfast. Suzy took it all down then looked to the table next to theirs, where the couple who'd been eating were getting their coats on.
“I need to clear some tables, but I'll zip this over to the kitchens right after, okay?” she told them.
“Sure,” Zeke said.
Casey bit down the urge to make loud, hungry and whiny protests, knowing that the girl had a job to do. The couple gave her smiles, the man saying, “Thanks, it was great,” before leaving. Suzy gave them a “have a great day!” before piling their dishes and silverware together. Casey smirked, seeing her smile in finding a ten and two ones as a tip.
“Maybe I should get a job as a waiter. I'd probably make more than I do with what my fuckin' doctorate got me...” he said.
“With how YOU eat? The food wouldn't make it to the tables,” Zeke said while adding yet more sugar to his already super-sweet coffee.
“Oh yea? At least I don't gain an ounce no matter what goes down. You eat a carrot and have to do sit-ups to burn it off before it gets to your chunky-monkey thighs,” Casey teased.
“Hah, cocky, huh? Like you're not getting a little bit of gut lately.”
“Bull--”
All of them including Torrin hopped a little in their seat when a very loud voice boomed in the air, a little boy's to be exact, who was walking with his family-presumably mother, father and another boy over to the table by the Connor-Tyler's. Suzy made one last, quick wipe of their table with her cloth, managing to keep the dirty dishes together in the other hand as she smiled at them. “Hi, guys; welcome to Bickf--”
“I want ice cream!” the loud boy proclaimed.
“David, remember; no louder than lovely,” the mother told him while patting his arm.
Casey kept his face straight as he was facing them, but it was hard to do with the expression Zeke was wearing; Christ, we're in for it, his cocked eyebrow and grimace said to Casey, who couldn't help the tiniest of smirks to return the sentiment. Zeke went stone-faced and his eyes widened when the little boy clambered to get into the booth, knocking every bit of himself against it and making Zeke bump about a bit. Glancing to the parents, Casey found them unconcerned as to how the kid was acting.
“Mommy, can I get ice cream too?” the other boy sitting on the other side with his father asked, just as his brother unwrapped his silverware over the table in a sharp clatter.
“Now boys, we're here for breakfast...” Dad said.
Suzy, who'd been standing by with a kind but stiff smile, asked, “Would you like some coffee to start with?”
“No, thank you; we'll both be having some orange juice, please,” Dad told her. “The boys will be having milk, one-percent if you have that.”
“Sure--”
“But I want a milkshake!!”
The screeching was turning heads; Zeke almost looked over his shoulder at them, but Casey was glad he didn't. The poor brat would've dropped dead with Zeke's glare set on him.
“Michael, you had some nice treats at the church's bake sale. It's time for something a little healthier, okay?” Mom told David, who began grumbling and bumping his back into the seat, over and over again. At least he was on the other side, not subjecting Zeke to more bangs and quakes.
“I'll get your drinks, take your time with the menus, okay?” Suzy said. The adults nodded and the waitress was off again, passing Casey, Zeke and Torrin's table. “Be back for you guys soon,” she told them.
“You wanna take it all back now-the career change you considered?” Zeke muttered. Casey snorted.
“I dunno. College-aged kids can be just as bad,” he whispered back.
“Hey... strawberry!” Torrin drew the long spoon provided for him from the shake, bringing a large berry out.
“Yea, look at that... can I have it?” Casey said, leaning in to open his mouth wide.
“Nut uh, no way,” Torrin said. He shoved it past his lips quickly, giving Casey a sly grin.
“Greedy.”
“HE got a shake!”
Casey darted his eyes back to Zeke's side; Zeke did as well, which couldn't be helped as David was turned around to face them, pointing over the seat to Torrin. Mom looked over, biting her lip as she took her son's wrist to bring it back to their side.
“Darling, don't be rude. Worry about yourself-look at the menu with me,” she said. “They have pancakes, you like those...”
“He has waffles, wiff berries, cream, I want THAT,” David said-yelled. Again.
“All right, just turn and sit, sweetie.”
Zeke made a long-winded sigh, reached into his wallet and drew out a slip of paper-a folded receipt from their last shopping trip at Wal-Mart, presumably. “Got a pen?” he asked Casey, who frowned.
“Why?” he asked, but dug around in his messenger bag to get one anyway. He handed it to Zeke, who clucked his tongue and began writing. Casey watched with curiosity until the paper was pushed across the table to him and he read:
maybe Suzy will suggest today's special: a big plate of SHUT THE FUCKING FUCK UP
Casey snorted hard to hold back loud, rampant chuckles. He took the pen and wrote back: poor Suzy. She'd best get a HUGE tip putting up with their crap
there ain't enough goddamned money in the world. was Zeke's reply.
“Hi!!”
Again, their attention was grabbed by David, who was hanging over his seat to stare at Torrin. Despite the deep annoyance, Casey forced a smile on his face, looked to Torrin and said, “You can say 'hi' back, Tory.”
“Um... hi,” Torrin haltingly replied.
“Your name's Tory? But that's a girl's name!”
“It's... short for 'Torrin',” Casey interjected before the youngest of their party put on his father's deadly glare in response.
“Wow, that's a weird name!” David proclaimed. And again, his mother reached over to pat his arm.
“Honey, they're trying to eat...”
“They're not eating yet, I was just saying hi.” David beamed at Torrin now as he asked, “Which one is your daddy??”
Oh, great. This. Torrin remained cool and collected as he looked between his fathers then said, “Both of 'em.”
“Huh?”
Casey was tempted to chortle at the boy's confusion, but before he could even smile he saw the mother turn her face to them quick. Pure, undiluted panic was written all over it. After a few looks given, she turned around fast, pulling David with her with enough force to make him yell, “Ow, Mommy!” Dread began creeping into Casey's veins...
'They'll just ignore us. Not every god-jockey's an asshole. They'll just ignore us,' he thought in a mantra, just as he felt paper press against his knuckles. He looked down, finding another note.
I felt that.
Felt what?
The FEAR.
Casey wanted nothing more than to reply, neh, they'll get over it, but couldn't; not with how the woman was leaning over the table, hissing to her husband. Whatever she was saying made the man set his jaw, sit straighter and scratch the top of his head. 'Let. It. GO,' Casey thought at them, just as Suzy returned to them with another full pot of coffee.
“Would you like a warm-up, guys?” she asked.
“Yea... thanks,” Casey said. Zeke took the offer as well.
“I loooove my shake,” Torrin chimed-in, pink-lined lips spread into a big smile. Suzy beamed back at him again.
“I'm glad... I make a good shake, huh?”
“You maded it? Yea, it's lishus.”
“Maybe you can tell my boss, see if he'll give me the raise I'm due for,” Suzy said with a wink. Torrin blinked blankly at the joke, which Casey and Zeke chuckled at.
“Excuse me, Miss?”
Casey shot his eyes back to the family next to them; the father had his hand raised halfway, sights set on Suzy. The waitress gave them one last smile before going over. “Yes?”
“Um...” With a cautious glance to Casey and his family, he waved her down-whatever he wanted to say required hushed tones.
'It's not that. Can't be,' Casey thought, but with Suzy's quick look to them, brow furrowed, Casey felt his stomach clench.
“I'm... sorry, Sir, but--”
“It's just that we don't...” More muttering Casey couldn't hear. Suzy looked worried now, conflict made obvious in the lip-biting and shaking head.
“There's really nothing... else I can give you, Sir...”
“We're moving to another table?!” Micheal all but howled. David sat up high and looked to the other side of the restaurant.
“Can we get one by the windows?? I want to sit by the windows!”
Their mother's loud, “Shh!!” was just as distracting as the yelling. However tense Casey felt, he was glad to see the diners sitting across from them in a two-seater, a pair of older and also well-dressed women, giving them disapproving glances. Casey's other comfort was in Torrin's total obliviousness, his search for another 'honky-huge strawberry' as he put it being his only concern.
Zeke, however... “What're you doing?” Casey asked when he saw him grabbing his coat from the empty spot next to him.
“We're getting this to-go,” he growled back. This snagged Torrin's attention; he stared at Zeke, blinking furiously.
“'We're leaving? But... we're at the restaurant...” the boy said.
“I know, honey, but--”
Casey slapped his hand down over Zeke's, holding it still. “No. Just... siddown, who cares?” he said in a hiss.
For a moment, all Zeke did was stare back at Casey, nostrils flaring and eyes ablaze. He sniffed, grabbed the receipt again and scribbled a reply furiously upon it...
I'm NOT subjecting Torrin to this bullshit, we LEAVE.
Casey gnawed his lower lip as he scribbled back: #1, too fucking hungry, #2, you hate food in the car, + #3, like hell we're not standing our ground. He flicked it back to Zeke, who read it with a glare. Before Casey could worry that his vote would go ignored and Zeke would grab his and Torrin's hands to forcibly remove them all, Zeke flicked the note back to the middle of the table, picked up his coffee and made the simple act of sipping look deadly. Casey wouldn't be swayed, however; he watched as Suzy, looking annoyed, walked away from the table of idiots to head back to the kitchens. The seat-change being denied, leaving the husband and wife to bicker together over the table urged Casey on into making another note.
We gotta think of poor Suzy. We leave and another family of Jesus freak douchebags is in her section. He had to make a tiny smile as he passed it back. Though Zeke didn't grin back upon reading it, he put both hands up by the wrist and turned to Torrin.
“Find any more strawberries?”
“One, and it was small.”
Casey shook away his apprehensions, smiled and said, “I bet you get a few monsters on the waffles, though.”
“Yea. Hungry...” Torrin said.
“Be patient, hun,” Zeke replied.
“HEY! Cut... cut it OUT!”
As much as Casey could've done without ever looking at this family ever again, he had to; the younger boy's yelling and reaching over the table to his brother, who was shoving another spitball into the end of his straw and aiming for Micheal's face was making the table behind them turn and stare at the family. The man seated unfortunately behind Michael's bad behavior was bolder than anyone else here thus far, as he held his hand up and said, “Excuse me... your boy is making me feel like there's an earthquake right under me...?”
The father made a sickeningly fake smile as he guided his son back into a sitting position, while Mom grabbed David's straw and leaned in to mutter something. “We're sorry, Sir,” Dad told the complainant, who nodded slowly, rolled his eyes and turned back to eat.
When the boys calmed down (for the moment, anyway), the woman started hissing to her husband again. Casey couldn't hear what was being said, but going by Zeke's still, quiet demeanor, he could. Instead of frowning and turning on the family like an angry cobra, he sucked in smiling lips and held the back of his wrist to them.
“What?” Casey whispered. Zeke shook his head, grabbed the note and began scrawling once again. It was handed to Casey...
She told him, “I can't sit next to these devils, I just can't!” LAWL
This was funny? Casey frowned and scribbled, What the fuck?? DEVILS??!! then snapped it back to Zeke with his thumb and forefinger.
Come on, you gotta laugh.
Not when those kids are gonna grow up with this crap, sorry, not funny.
Zeke frowned at Casey's reply. He glanced from the note to Casey then back again before writing more.
Them being homophobes is the LEAST of my worries... they'll be methheads in lock-up before they graduate HS, for fuck's sake.
Okay... Casey HAD to chuckle over that. But before he could come up with an equally humorous prediction, Torrin sat up quick and clapped. “Ooh, yay!” he said, bringing attention to the food being put upon their table by a smiling Suzy.
“Here we go, that didn't take TOO long, did it?” she asked Torrin.
“For me, it did,” Casey said, pulling his giant breakfast to his spot. He feared drowning the place in his saliva, the scent of bacon, eggs, buttered wheat toast, hash browns and muffin making him have to swallow a few times. He swore his eyes filled with tears as well as he began seasoning the eggs.
“Lookit that, oh yum,” Torrin said as he gazed at his meal. “So much cream!”
“I made sure you got a whole lot...” Suzy's smile grew wider, if that was even possible, as she made the quickest of glances to the table next to them before saying, “...You're one of the most well-behaved, politest little boys I've ever met, you know.”
Casey rather enjoyed the mother's looking back at Torrin then to her own noisy, annoying brood who busied themselves with drumming their silverware and blurting out random, sing-song syllables. Zeke smirked and said, “Yea, he's all right.”
“Mmm. Enjoy your meal, guys,” Suzy said. Casey noticed her steeling her jaw before going to the other family, order book out. In a much blander, unemotional tone, she asked them, “So, have we decided yet?”
For this family, ordering a nice meal was more like an argument. According to David, Michael wasn't allowed to order the same meal as him; according to Michael, his brother had eaten more brownies than HE had back at church, so he got to order first. After a solid, agonizing minute of the mother trying to rationalize the absolutely irrational nature of this situation, Dad took the reins and said, “They'll both be having blueberry pancakes with syrup; Michelle and I will both have the 'Triple-Twos'.”
Nothing was more dreadful than the old-fashioned practice of a husband ordering for his wife, in Casey's opinion. That opinion changed however, when Michael pounded his fists on the table, just once but hard enough to rattle every item upon it. The sound of that and his cry of, “But I wanted chocolate-CHIP pancakes!” canceled-out the ordering-for annoyance.
“You already had brownies. Those were chocolate.” Dad folded his hands at his chin and stared off into space while David chuckled.
“You're such a baby, Mikey-Wikey.”
“Stop teasing me!”
“Wah! Wah! Wah!”
Casey startled at the movement coming from behind the father; the same man who'd spoken up had stood in a shot, his jacket getting thrown over himself in hasty movements. “I need a smoke,” he proclaimed, tugging the collar of the jacket in quick snaps against his neck. A woman's mumbling came from the same booth. “I don't need the rest of it, my card's in my wallet. I'll be outside.”
The man now strode down the aisle; Casey went to avert his eyes but stopped when the very tall, muscled diner looked directly at him, shook his head and mouthed, sorry. Casey could only nod before returning to the delicious food before him.
“'Abby, I meeb a mabgin!” Torrin said through a mouthful, waving his hand to the napkin dispenser by Zeke's elbow. Zeke chuckled and pulled a huge handful out.
“Lookit you, dang...” he said.
Casey had to laugh as well; their son really had been hungry, going by the red-and-white mess threatening to drip down from Torrin's chin to his lap. “Slow down, no rush,” Casey said... and meant it. Fuck the intolerance sitting mere feet away. A talking-with-his-mouthful Torrin was a etiquette-instructor's dream, compared with the two little bastards crying, whining and taunting at each other. Torrin managed to clean himself up, but made a long pause, napkins still covering his mouth. The corners of his smiling lips poked around the paper.
“I burped,” he said in a muffled voice.
“And you say... what?” Casey haltingly asked.
“But I did it so you didn't hear it,” he said. Casey cocked an eyebrow at him; sighing, Torrin put the napkins down, smirked and replied, “'Scuse me.”
“S'right,” Casey said, patting his son's shoulder. He then took his biggest bite yet, collecting a wedge of potato, bit of bacon and mound of egg onto his fork and slipped it into his mouth. “Dang, s'good...”
“Honeydew's is gonna be outta commission for another month or five... I vote we make this our 'Sunday thing' 'til they get back in business,” Zeke said... loud enough for the other undesirable patrons to hear. Casey nodded.
“Maybe even do it every other week, doughnuts then here, doughnuts then here...”
“Whattaya say, Tory?” Zeke asked.
“Sure, this is yummy-yummy,” Torrin replied. “I like Suzy, too.”
“Me too,” Casey said.
“She's real pretty, I like her hair.”
Torrin's comment made Casey chuckle again, while Zeke raised his eyebrows and ahh'ed. “She's a little too old to be your girlfriend, though.”
“Huh?” Torrin paled a little, and not from the next dollop of cream he'd tried shoving into his gut. “I don't want a girlfriend... 'til I'm... a hundred years old!”
Casey almost choked on his next bite of egg at this, while Zeke tried to sip some coffee, tittering at the rim of his mug.
It wasn't long before the natural disaster next to them was being served their food; Suzy strained to pass the father his plate, almost having it knocked from her hand by an overeager Michael who went to grab it, yelling, “Is this one mine??” Mom once again began explaining in too-much-detail about how he had to be patient, Suzy sniffing as she handed Michael his meal. David all but dove across his mother to get HIS breakfast; this time, Dad wasn't as patient.
“David! Sit down,” he said in a much sharper tone than he'd used so far. David didn't pay him any mind, warbling maniacally and grabbing his silverware as his plate was put before him. With every meal in place, Mom cleared her throat.
“Okay, now; let's take hands and say 'grace'...”
“GRACE!”
David's outburst made Michael chortle noisily. Casey watched as Dad reached over to him and took his hand in a firm grip. “We don't joke around when it comes to the Lord, you know that,” he said to his son.
“Was jes' kiddin'...” David said.
“All right... dear Lord, thank you for this lovely meal, and for all the blessings you give our family every day...”
Casey rolled his eyes but stopped dead when he saw Zeke folding his hands and miming a ridiculous, over-exaggerated praying along with them. To stifle the urge to laugh uproariously, Casey shoved a huge bite of toast into his mouth; he still trembled and shook, growing worse when Zeke slowly slid his hand to his mouth and mimicked the motions usually seen during a blowjob. Casey flicked his eyes to Torrin, hoping he didn't catch it; the boy was staring at the family however, nose and brow crinkled.
“What're they doing?” he hissed in question.
“Begging for mercy,” Zeke remarked in a whisper.
“Zeke, shh-hh...” Casey said before clapping his hand over his mouth.
Finished with her serving, Suzy moved onto their table. They'd become her oasis, the eye of the storm, shown in her face brightening as she stood before them now. “How's everything here?” she asked.
Casey looked up and grinned. “Fantastic, thank you,” he said.
“Are those waffles as good as you thought they'd be, Torrin?” she asked the boy.
“Ya, I'm almost done cos' they were way too yummy,” Torrin replied, nodding to his near empty plate.
“I see that, yea,” Suzy said, chuckling. “And thank you again for being so nice and polite. Your daddies must teach you about manners BIG time.”
“Ya. I burped before, but diddit in a napkin. I still had to say 'scuse me, though.”
She gave off another hearty laugh. “Oh god, you're my new fave kid...” she said; with a, “Take your time, guys,” and the promise of another warm-up, she left them alone again.
“She's right, you know,” A voice came from across the aisle. They looked over to the two older women sitting there, the one drinking her tea and wearing granny-glasses smiling Torrin's way. Like Suzy, she made a conspicuous glance to the other table, dealing with yet another disaster involving syrup getting all over the table and David's nice, brand-new dress slacks before adding, “You are a very well-behaved young man.”
Before the proud fathers could give their thanks, the other woman dressed in a bright and beautiful lavender dress stood up and went over, holding her opened purse. “If it's all right with your daddies... I have special sweet treats for special occasions like this,” she said.
“What... kind of treats?” Torrin said, staring at the flower-printed bag in her hands.
“Is it all right with you gentlemen...?” she asked them; Casey looked down at the opening of the bag, where she was letting him see the corner of a pack of Skittles poking out.
“Fine by me,” Casey said.
Seeing Zeke's nod, the woman lifted the bag of candy and showed it to Torrin, who gawked and sat up straighter. “I love Skittles!” he said in an awed voice.
“I figured you did; you look a lot like my grandson. He's a very nice boy, too, so I always keep sweets handy.” The kind lady handed them over to their very grateful boy.
“Thank you!” he said in a light cheer.
“You're welcome, sweetheart. I'm glad to give them,” she said. Before she left them, she leaned in, whispered, “Don't let the bastards get you down,” and went back to her table, being replaced by a coffee-carrying waitress.
~*~
The chaos and calamity of the table behind Zeke was barely a gnat's buzzing by the time the check had arrived, letting Casey, Zeke and Torrin not just enjoy their meal, but linger when it was finished. After all, Torrin had earned the right to eat candy after breakfast, not a common custom in their household. The sweet, kind surprises from their waitress and the grandmothers who'd left not long ago-both of them smiling at them and saying, “God bless,” as they'd left, with the agnostics replying, “You too,” without pause-had inspired Torrin into not just asking if he could have the rainbow'ed treat, but give his fathers a small pile, as well.
It didn't matter that David was being badgered to finish the pancakes he'd barely touched, him giving loud, nasal whining that he wasn't hungry as a reply, and Casey had grown used to Micheal's complaining that THEY hadn't gotten any candy from the elderly diners. Their parents didn't pay it any mind after a while, talking over the babbling and bumping as if it wasn't happening. Perhaps they'd accepted the fact that they were a pair of extremely shitty parents, and the dark looks they received from nearly everyone around them had been earned. The only other argument they engaged in was over David's not wanting to shop for new dress shoes after breakfast at the Payless next door.
“Your Auntie's wedding is next weekend, remember?” she opened with, going on to explain how important it was to look nice for such a special occasion, onto how they needed to treat clothes with respect, “Especially your church clothes,” and... she didn't get it.
“Because I'm your father,” put an end to ridiculous arguing when Casey had been a child, and while he wasn't as firm or unyielding as his own dad when it came to his parenting Torrin, he didn't let the boy get away with the kind of asinine, argumentative behavior this family displayed. Even Zeke, someone who'd grown up without attentive parents knew better. He'd always said he wouldn't be like his father, and he wasn't. He was a natural, someone who truly understood what set a kid on the right path. All of that and so much more was why Torrin rarely threw tantrums or acted-out; not just because they'd send him to bed without dessert or give him time-outs, but because he was a good, nice person and they treated him like a person. Torrin wasn't a thing, a trophy or 'what married people did', but a human being and he knew it. He was allowed to ask questions, or even take his toys apart to see how they worked.
“It's how they learn,” Casey had said when Zeke had been annoyed with Torrin for dismantling his talking alphabet toy-one of three, really, and the oldest of the bunch. “And it's his stuff. If he regrets it later, well...” Casey hadn't needed to finish, especially when Zeke himself had gotten curious over one of the metal parts Torrin had revealed. It'd taken him away from the question, “Where'd he get the stupid screwdriver from, anyway?” to “Wow, wonder what THIS thing does...” and all was well.
But when Casey saw the mother getting their coats and Dad walking off to the register to pay their bill, he went on the defense again. Relieved that they were leaving, yes; he still didn't want any mean looks or comments, if they so dared to give them. Mom seemed fine with keeping her gaze averted, however, concentrating on forcing the boys into their jackets... even if, according to them, it was getting 'hot' out. It'd been barely forty degrees when they'd arrived, a typical New England December day.
With Dad's return, the family trudged their way down the aisle-still not looking to the Connor-Tyler table, nor anyone else. Casey swore he heard someone clapping in the next row as they reached the front doors and exited. A heavy sigh of relief flooded out from Casey's chest, making him wonder if he'd been holding his breath. Zeke tossed a green Skittle in his mouth, turned to the vacated table and made a low whistle.
“Jesus wept,” he muttered.
Casey strained to look over the seat then cringed at the scene. The large pools of jam, syrup and milk would've been nice as an avant-garde piece, but not-so when it came to the staff who had to clear it away. A fork was stabbed into the metal menu-holder, one of the tines bent up from what had to be a violent shove. The salt shaker had been uncapped to let a large pile of the seasoning escape and mix with the three, mashed-up and open butter packets next to it. Torn napkins, bits of pancake, even a link of what HAD to be chewed-up sausage sat on the provided dessert menu.
“That's just fucking wrong,” Casey said, just as Suzy arrived to survey the damage. She paused at the table but for a moment before she sighed and stayed professional; she must have seen this coming, as Casey hadn't seen her carrying a small plastic container full of soapy water, sponge and large rag during other table clean-ups, until now.
“Well...” Zeke shrugged and nodded to one of the plates, where a bill was sticking out. He next gave Suzy an apologetic smile. “...It's only ten bucks, but it's something.”
Suzy smirked, raised her eyebrows and turned to him. “It's a fakie.”
“A... what?” Zeke asked.
Still smirking through the pain, Suzy lifted the plate and removed the bill-which ended up not being currency at all. She handed it to Zeke and said, “We know what church they go to; they've been here before.”
Casey leaned in quick to look at the item along with Zeke. When he saw what it was, he gasped. “What... the... fu...”
“'The Lord loves you... that love is MUCH more important than material goods and wealth, and we give you His blessings along with our thanks for your loving service,'” Zeke read the text in the middle of what was supposed to be money-markings, growing more and more crimson as he spoke. “'Keep this in a special place as a reminder that God loves you and does his best to show you that love every day.'... 'K, it's in all-caps now, but just pretend I'm shouting it, 'God bless you and all who heed his Word!'”
“There are like, fifty of those taped up by the time clock; you want it?” Suzy asked. How she could smile, having had this done to her, was an enigma.
“That's... disgusting. And wrong,” Casey said, still in disbelief.
“We know, we know,” Suzy said. “I got the warnings from the other girls who've served them before. I've only been here two weeks, hadn't had a run-in with 'em yet. I guess I've been... christened.”
“You're doing a damned good job, 'k? I figured you were a veteran with the service you gave us,” Casey said in an angry spit.
“Aw... thanks. You guys are awesome, too. I'm... um, sorry if you heard anything they'd... said.”
“We've heard it before, but it's dying down,” Zeke said.
“Good.”
“We worship the Flying Spaghetti Monster.”
Torrin's sudden conversation-starter made them all look to him; Suzy chortled heavily. “Bless his noodly appendages!” she all but cheered then went over, her hand held up in a high-five position to Torrin, who grinned like an idiot and gave her one. Casey and Zeke smirked and sat back as she walked off, still laughing.
“So... she's getting herself a nice, hefty tip. Like, half-the-bill nice and hefty,” Casey said.
“Damned right.”
Casey stood up to get his and Torrin's coats. “C'mon, kiddo; let's go to the park.”
“Ooh,” Torrin said. He put up no fuss at all getting his jacket on, of course. Casey smiled, helped him from the seat and wandered to the front. Zeke lagged behind a little, setting the bill-holder down in the middle of the table then getting his coat on. Suzy then came from the kitchens; she smiled and went over to Torrin.
“Have a nice day, buddy! I work every Sunday, so come visit me again,” she said.
“Yea, we will!” Torrin said; he wanted another high-five, apparently, which Suzy was glad to give him. She then wandered down the aisle to their table; Zeke saw her coming, made a nervous smile then jogged down to where Casey and Torrin stood.
“'K, let's go...”
“Daddy, can I have a gumball?”
Casey looked to the large, shiny gumball dispenser right by the door. Despite the fact that he'd had a mountain of sugar for both breakfast and his 'grandma gift'... “Yea, sure,” he said, digging change out from his pocket. He looked to Zeke as he handed Torrin a quarter and said, “That's okay, ri... what's wrong?”
“Nothing, let's hurry up and motor--”
“Hey-hey, wait a minute, guys!”
Zeke winced, Casey barely noticing it when he looked up again. Suzy was jogging back to them, holding up what looked to be money. With a puff of chuckles, she said, “Sir, I-I think you made a mistake...”
“No, no mistake... go on, Torrin, get some gum...”
“There's two-hundred-and-fifty bucks here, this is a BIG mistake,” Suzy said.
Casey looked the bills she held and stared, but Zeke busied himself with helping Torrin turn the machine's knob. “Please be blue, PLEASE be... oh, darn, a dumb white one...” Torrin said as his candy rolled down the neon-lit track. Zeke stood, bit his lower lip and finally turned to face the girl.
“You just gotta promise me one thing,” he said mysteriously. Suzy, unblinking, nodded slowly.
“Oh... 'kay...”
“Next time those rotten pricks come in and order something... you come out with a stack of empty plates. When they ask where their food is, you let 'em know that 'God's love' is more important than eating,” he said. When the girl let out a loud whoop of laughter, Zeke raised his eyebrows. “I'm dead serious.”
“Dude, I'd probably lose my job.” Suzy held the money out to him. “I can't keep that promise, so you get it back.”
Zeke flicked his eyes from her face to the cash; a slow smile spread over his lips. “Spit on their food?”
“Oh god...”
“Go to the bathroom, not wash your hands?”
“Zeke, c'mon...” Casey took his arm, looked to Suzy and smiled. “Just ignore his demands, keep it.”
Suzy turned a dozen shades of pink before putting the bills in her pocket. “I'll... think of something,” she said. Casey swore he saw tears in her eyes as she said, “Thank you.”
Zeke smiled, made a lazy salute then slung his arm over Casey's shoulders to lead him out, Torrin going to Casey's other side. Once outside in the chilly air (too hot for coats nothing, Casey would ground Torrin for not wanting to wear a coat in this weather) Zeke glanced to the Payless. “Hey... do we need shoes?” he asked.
“I don't think so, we-NO.” Casey laughed and pulled Zeke over to the lot where their car waited for them. Imagining Zeke throwing large wads of cash at the unfortunate shoe salespeople dealing with the hell-beasts was amusing, but Casey's wonderful, giving and always-loving husband had saved enough poor souls from overbearing and hateful Bible-thumpers for one day.
Title: Just Like You: Etiquette
Pairing: C/Z
Rating: Light R (?)
Warning(s): homophobia, religious themes
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Some people are more contradictory than Zeke could ever strive to be.
“No doughnut?”
Casey turned his head to look in the backseat. “Sorry, hun; 'Honeydew's is closed for a couple weeks. They're making it look nice, remember?” he told Torrin, who made a dramatic sigh.
“Mebbee Bigford's has the doughnuts,” he said.
“You like waffles, right? With whipped cream?” Zeke asked the boy. At Torrin's nod, the man smiled. “Well, you'll get it there.”
“Wiff strawberries?”
“Wiff strawberries.”
Casey snorted once and patted his very-hungry belly. That hunger was about to be sated; Zeke pulled the car into Bickford's lot, parked and they got out. It took everything Casey had to wait for his family instead of running inside straight into the kitchens to make things faster. Zeke took Torrin's hand and led the way. “What're you gonna have? I'm thinking about the 'Threebie' platter.”
“I'm getting the 'Fat Fuck',” Casey said, making Zeke chortle.
Now inside, Casey felt his heart sink. It seemed every table was full, with two families in the waiting area. 'Damn it, Zeke...' he thought his husband's way, secretly bitching him out in his thoughts for needing to make his hair 'presentable'. No movie star on Earth spent as much time on their hair as Zeke, Casey was sure of it.
~*~
Zeke gave Casey a wry smirk from across the table. “There. That didn't take THAT long, did it?”
“Long enough. Starving...” Casey drifted off as he scanned the menu. Their waitress arrived, holding a full pot of coffee.
“Hey, guys; the name's Suzy, I'll be taking care of you today,” The perky-looking young woman said, her hair up in a messy ponytail, face wearing a bright grin. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please,” Zeke said. Casey nodded and smiled back, pushing his mug closer to her.
Once she finished pouring, she looked to the other side of Casey where Torrin sat. She leaned in and beamed. “And who's this little guy? Hi!”
“Tell her your name, kiddo,” Casey said.
“Torrin,” the boy said while tapping his spoon on his nose.
“Ooh, that's a really cool name, I like it. What do you want to drink, sweetie?” Suzy asked.
The boy blinked and looked between his fathers. “Can I get milkshakes, Daddies?” he asked.
“Sure, why not?” Casey said.
Suzy nodded and whipped out her meal-ticket book. “We have chocolate, vanilla and strawberry, which one would you like?”
“Strawberry, cos' I'm getting strawberry waffles, I want that.”
“Hold on, we haven't ordered food yet...” Zeke said, finally grabbing the menu he'd been ignoring. Casey stiffened. He knew what he wanted, damn it; the man was the most talented procrastinator he ever met...
“Strawberry it is. I'll be back in a jiff,” Suzy said.
As she left their aisle, Zeke watched her go with a smile on his face. “Love it when they don't even flinch...”
“Yea, awesome, pick something already,” Casey blurted, slapping his menu down on the table.
“Jeeesus...” Zeke drawled and began looking. As if he knew that Casey would start gnawing on the table should he take too long, he nodded and closed the menu. “Fish and chips sounds good.”
Casey wrinkled his nose. “For breakfast?”
“Yea? You almost always have something breakfast-y at dinner when we go out to places like this, and?”
“SO different.”
Suzy had kept to her word; Casey wanted to know her secret for going light-speed when she returned moments later with Torrin's milkshake. The boy's eyes went wide as the tall glass full of pink milk and cream with strawberry bits was slid over to him. “Be careful, it's really full,” Suzy said.
“Eggsalint,” Torrin said in a drowsy, happy voice.
The girl laughed outright and brought out the pad and pen again, but when another waitress passed by and leaned in quick to hiss, “Church just let out, be warned,” Suzy glanced to the front of the place. Sure enough, large groups of Sunday-best-dressed folks were piling in, the front-of-house girl and guy rummaging through the waiting list to get them all into it.
“Ah. It's gonna get crazy...” she said.
“You must make a ton of tips on Sundays, huh?” Zeke said. Suzy gave him a mysterious smile and tapped her pen in the air.
“So, you're still going for the waffles with strawberries and cream, sweetie?”
Torrin nodded emphatically, adding that he wanted extra whipped cream along with a very polite, “Please?” Casey put his order in next (“The 'Lumberjack', with a blueberry muffin on the side. Oh, and can I get a double-serving of hash browns?”) then Zeke's dinner-breakfast. Suzy took it all down then looked to the table next to theirs, where the couple who'd been eating were getting their coats on.
“I need to clear some tables, but I'll zip this over to the kitchens right after, okay?” she told them.
“Sure,” Zeke said.
Casey bit down the urge to make loud, hungry and whiny protests, knowing that the girl had a job to do. The couple gave her smiles, the man saying, “Thanks, it was great,” before leaving. Suzy gave them a “have a great day!” before piling their dishes and silverware together. Casey smirked, seeing her smile in finding a ten and two ones as a tip.
“Maybe I should get a job as a waiter. I'd probably make more than I do with what my fuckin' doctorate got me...” he said.
“With how YOU eat? The food wouldn't make it to the tables,” Zeke said while adding yet more sugar to his already super-sweet coffee.
“Oh yea? At least I don't gain an ounce no matter what goes down. You eat a carrot and have to do sit-ups to burn it off before it gets to your chunky-monkey thighs,” Casey teased.
“Hah, cocky, huh? Like you're not getting a little bit of gut lately.”
“Bull--”
All of them including Torrin hopped a little in their seat when a very loud voice boomed in the air, a little boy's to be exact, who was walking with his family-presumably mother, father and another boy over to the table by the Connor-Tyler's. Suzy made one last, quick wipe of their table with her cloth, managing to keep the dirty dishes together in the other hand as she smiled at them. “Hi, guys; welcome to Bickf--”
“I want ice cream!” the loud boy proclaimed.
“David, remember; no louder than lovely,” the mother told him while patting his arm.
Casey kept his face straight as he was facing them, but it was hard to do with the expression Zeke was wearing; Christ, we're in for it, his cocked eyebrow and grimace said to Casey, who couldn't help the tiniest of smirks to return the sentiment. Zeke went stone-faced and his eyes widened when the little boy clambered to get into the booth, knocking every bit of himself against it and making Zeke bump about a bit. Glancing to the parents, Casey found them unconcerned as to how the kid was acting.
“Mommy, can I get ice cream too?” the other boy sitting on the other side with his father asked, just as his brother unwrapped his silverware over the table in a sharp clatter.
“Now boys, we're here for breakfast...” Dad said.
Suzy, who'd been standing by with a kind but stiff smile, asked, “Would you like some coffee to start with?”
“No, thank you; we'll both be having some orange juice, please,” Dad told her. “The boys will be having milk, one-percent if you have that.”
“Sure--”
“But I want a milkshake!!”
The screeching was turning heads; Zeke almost looked over his shoulder at them, but Casey was glad he didn't. The poor brat would've dropped dead with Zeke's glare set on him.
“Michael, you had some nice treats at the church's bake sale. It's time for something a little healthier, okay?” Mom told David, who began grumbling and bumping his back into the seat, over and over again. At least he was on the other side, not subjecting Zeke to more bangs and quakes.
“I'll get your drinks, take your time with the menus, okay?” Suzy said. The adults nodded and the waitress was off again, passing Casey, Zeke and Torrin's table. “Be back for you guys soon,” she told them.
“You wanna take it all back now-the career change you considered?” Zeke muttered. Casey snorted.
“I dunno. College-aged kids can be just as bad,” he whispered back.
“Hey... strawberry!” Torrin drew the long spoon provided for him from the shake, bringing a large berry out.
“Yea, look at that... can I have it?” Casey said, leaning in to open his mouth wide.
“Nut uh, no way,” Torrin said. He shoved it past his lips quickly, giving Casey a sly grin.
“Greedy.”
“HE got a shake!”
Casey darted his eyes back to Zeke's side; Zeke did as well, which couldn't be helped as David was turned around to face them, pointing over the seat to Torrin. Mom looked over, biting her lip as she took her son's wrist to bring it back to their side.
“Darling, don't be rude. Worry about yourself-look at the menu with me,” she said. “They have pancakes, you like those...”
“He has waffles, wiff berries, cream, I want THAT,” David said-yelled. Again.
“All right, just turn and sit, sweetie.”
Zeke made a long-winded sigh, reached into his wallet and drew out a slip of paper-a folded receipt from their last shopping trip at Wal-Mart, presumably. “Got a pen?” he asked Casey, who frowned.
“Why?” he asked, but dug around in his messenger bag to get one anyway. He handed it to Zeke, who clucked his tongue and began writing. Casey watched with curiosity until the paper was pushed across the table to him and he read:
maybe Suzy will suggest today's special: a big plate of SHUT THE FUCKING FUCK UP
Casey snorted hard to hold back loud, rampant chuckles. He took the pen and wrote back: poor Suzy. She'd best get a HUGE tip putting up with their crap
there ain't enough goddamned money in the world. was Zeke's reply.
“Hi!!”
Again, their attention was grabbed by David, who was hanging over his seat to stare at Torrin. Despite the deep annoyance, Casey forced a smile on his face, looked to Torrin and said, “You can say 'hi' back, Tory.”
“Um... hi,” Torrin haltingly replied.
“Your name's Tory? But that's a girl's name!”
“It's... short for 'Torrin',” Casey interjected before the youngest of their party put on his father's deadly glare in response.
“Wow, that's a weird name!” David proclaimed. And again, his mother reached over to pat his arm.
“Honey, they're trying to eat...”
“They're not eating yet, I was just saying hi.” David beamed at Torrin now as he asked, “Which one is your daddy??”
Oh, great. This. Torrin remained cool and collected as he looked between his fathers then said, “Both of 'em.”
“Huh?”
Casey was tempted to chortle at the boy's confusion, but before he could even smile he saw the mother turn her face to them quick. Pure, undiluted panic was written all over it. After a few looks given, she turned around fast, pulling David with her with enough force to make him yell, “Ow, Mommy!” Dread began creeping into Casey's veins...
'They'll just ignore us. Not every god-jockey's an asshole. They'll just ignore us,' he thought in a mantra, just as he felt paper press against his knuckles. He looked down, finding another note.
I felt that.
Felt what?
The FEAR.
Casey wanted nothing more than to reply, neh, they'll get over it, but couldn't; not with how the woman was leaning over the table, hissing to her husband. Whatever she was saying made the man set his jaw, sit straighter and scratch the top of his head. 'Let. It. GO,' Casey thought at them, just as Suzy returned to them with another full pot of coffee.
“Would you like a warm-up, guys?” she asked.
“Yea... thanks,” Casey said. Zeke took the offer as well.
“I loooove my shake,” Torrin chimed-in, pink-lined lips spread into a big smile. Suzy beamed back at him again.
“I'm glad... I make a good shake, huh?”
“You maded it? Yea, it's lishus.”
“Maybe you can tell my boss, see if he'll give me the raise I'm due for,” Suzy said with a wink. Torrin blinked blankly at the joke, which Casey and Zeke chuckled at.
“Excuse me, Miss?”
Casey shot his eyes back to the family next to them; the father had his hand raised halfway, sights set on Suzy. The waitress gave them one last smile before going over. “Yes?”
“Um...” With a cautious glance to Casey and his family, he waved her down-whatever he wanted to say required hushed tones.
'It's not that. Can't be,' Casey thought, but with Suzy's quick look to them, brow furrowed, Casey felt his stomach clench.
“I'm... sorry, Sir, but--”
“It's just that we don't...” More muttering Casey couldn't hear. Suzy looked worried now, conflict made obvious in the lip-biting and shaking head.
“There's really nothing... else I can give you, Sir...”
“We're moving to another table?!” Micheal all but howled. David sat up high and looked to the other side of the restaurant.
“Can we get one by the windows?? I want to sit by the windows!”
Their mother's loud, “Shh!!” was just as distracting as the yelling. However tense Casey felt, he was glad to see the diners sitting across from them in a two-seater, a pair of older and also well-dressed women, giving them disapproving glances. Casey's other comfort was in Torrin's total obliviousness, his search for another 'honky-huge strawberry' as he put it being his only concern.
Zeke, however... “What're you doing?” Casey asked when he saw him grabbing his coat from the empty spot next to him.
“We're getting this to-go,” he growled back. This snagged Torrin's attention; he stared at Zeke, blinking furiously.
“'We're leaving? But... we're at the restaurant...” the boy said.
“I know, honey, but--”
Casey slapped his hand down over Zeke's, holding it still. “No. Just... siddown, who cares?” he said in a hiss.
For a moment, all Zeke did was stare back at Casey, nostrils flaring and eyes ablaze. He sniffed, grabbed the receipt again and scribbled a reply furiously upon it...
I'm NOT subjecting Torrin to this bullshit, we LEAVE.
Casey gnawed his lower lip as he scribbled back: #1, too fucking hungry, #2, you hate food in the car, + #3, like hell we're not standing our ground. He flicked it back to Zeke, who read it with a glare. Before Casey could worry that his vote would go ignored and Zeke would grab his and Torrin's hands to forcibly remove them all, Zeke flicked the note back to the middle of the table, picked up his coffee and made the simple act of sipping look deadly. Casey wouldn't be swayed, however; he watched as Suzy, looking annoyed, walked away from the table of idiots to head back to the kitchens. The seat-change being denied, leaving the husband and wife to bicker together over the table urged Casey on into making another note.
We gotta think of poor Suzy. We leave and another family of Jesus freak douchebags is in her section. He had to make a tiny smile as he passed it back. Though Zeke didn't grin back upon reading it, he put both hands up by the wrist and turned to Torrin.
“Find any more strawberries?”
“One, and it was small.”
Casey shook away his apprehensions, smiled and said, “I bet you get a few monsters on the waffles, though.”
“Yea. Hungry...” Torrin said.
“Be patient, hun,” Zeke replied.
“HEY! Cut... cut it OUT!”
As much as Casey could've done without ever looking at this family ever again, he had to; the younger boy's yelling and reaching over the table to his brother, who was shoving another spitball into the end of his straw and aiming for Micheal's face was making the table behind them turn and stare at the family. The man seated unfortunately behind Michael's bad behavior was bolder than anyone else here thus far, as he held his hand up and said, “Excuse me... your boy is making me feel like there's an earthquake right under me...?”
The father made a sickeningly fake smile as he guided his son back into a sitting position, while Mom grabbed David's straw and leaned in to mutter something. “We're sorry, Sir,” Dad told the complainant, who nodded slowly, rolled his eyes and turned back to eat.
When the boys calmed down (for the moment, anyway), the woman started hissing to her husband again. Casey couldn't hear what was being said, but going by Zeke's still, quiet demeanor, he could. Instead of frowning and turning on the family like an angry cobra, he sucked in smiling lips and held the back of his wrist to them.
“What?” Casey whispered. Zeke shook his head, grabbed the note and began scrawling once again. It was handed to Casey...
She told him, “I can't sit next to these devils, I just can't!” LAWL
This was funny? Casey frowned and scribbled, What the fuck?? DEVILS??!! then snapped it back to Zeke with his thumb and forefinger.
Come on, you gotta laugh.
Not when those kids are gonna grow up with this crap, sorry, not funny.
Zeke frowned at Casey's reply. He glanced from the note to Casey then back again before writing more.
Them being homophobes is the LEAST of my worries... they'll be methheads in lock-up before they graduate HS, for fuck's sake.
Okay... Casey HAD to chuckle over that. But before he could come up with an equally humorous prediction, Torrin sat up quick and clapped. “Ooh, yay!” he said, bringing attention to the food being put upon their table by a smiling Suzy.
“Here we go, that didn't take TOO long, did it?” she asked Torrin.
“For me, it did,” Casey said, pulling his giant breakfast to his spot. He feared drowning the place in his saliva, the scent of bacon, eggs, buttered wheat toast, hash browns and muffin making him have to swallow a few times. He swore his eyes filled with tears as well as he began seasoning the eggs.
“Lookit that, oh yum,” Torrin said as he gazed at his meal. “So much cream!”
“I made sure you got a whole lot...” Suzy's smile grew wider, if that was even possible, as she made the quickest of glances to the table next to them before saying, “...You're one of the most well-behaved, politest little boys I've ever met, you know.”
Casey rather enjoyed the mother's looking back at Torrin then to her own noisy, annoying brood who busied themselves with drumming their silverware and blurting out random, sing-song syllables. Zeke smirked and said, “Yea, he's all right.”
“Mmm. Enjoy your meal, guys,” Suzy said. Casey noticed her steeling her jaw before going to the other family, order book out. In a much blander, unemotional tone, she asked them, “So, have we decided yet?”
For this family, ordering a nice meal was more like an argument. According to David, Michael wasn't allowed to order the same meal as him; according to Michael, his brother had eaten more brownies than HE had back at church, so he got to order first. After a solid, agonizing minute of the mother trying to rationalize the absolutely irrational nature of this situation, Dad took the reins and said, “They'll both be having blueberry pancakes with syrup; Michelle and I will both have the 'Triple-Twos'.”
Nothing was more dreadful than the old-fashioned practice of a husband ordering for his wife, in Casey's opinion. That opinion changed however, when Michael pounded his fists on the table, just once but hard enough to rattle every item upon it. The sound of that and his cry of, “But I wanted chocolate-CHIP pancakes!” canceled-out the ordering-for annoyance.
“You already had brownies. Those were chocolate.” Dad folded his hands at his chin and stared off into space while David chuckled.
“You're such a baby, Mikey-Wikey.”
“Stop teasing me!”
“Wah! Wah! Wah!”
Casey startled at the movement coming from behind the father; the same man who'd spoken up had stood in a shot, his jacket getting thrown over himself in hasty movements. “I need a smoke,” he proclaimed, tugging the collar of the jacket in quick snaps against his neck. A woman's mumbling came from the same booth. “I don't need the rest of it, my card's in my wallet. I'll be outside.”
The man now strode down the aisle; Casey went to avert his eyes but stopped when the very tall, muscled diner looked directly at him, shook his head and mouthed, sorry. Casey could only nod before returning to the delicious food before him.
“'Abby, I meeb a mabgin!” Torrin said through a mouthful, waving his hand to the napkin dispenser by Zeke's elbow. Zeke chuckled and pulled a huge handful out.
“Lookit you, dang...” he said.
Casey had to laugh as well; their son really had been hungry, going by the red-and-white mess threatening to drip down from Torrin's chin to his lap. “Slow down, no rush,” Casey said... and meant it. Fuck the intolerance sitting mere feet away. A talking-with-his-mouthful Torrin was a etiquette-instructor's dream, compared with the two little bastards crying, whining and taunting at each other. Torrin managed to clean himself up, but made a long pause, napkins still covering his mouth. The corners of his smiling lips poked around the paper.
“I burped,” he said in a muffled voice.
“And you say... what?” Casey haltingly asked.
“But I did it so you didn't hear it,” he said. Casey cocked an eyebrow at him; sighing, Torrin put the napkins down, smirked and replied, “'Scuse me.”
“S'right,” Casey said, patting his son's shoulder. He then took his biggest bite yet, collecting a wedge of potato, bit of bacon and mound of egg onto his fork and slipped it into his mouth. “Dang, s'good...”
“Honeydew's is gonna be outta commission for another month or five... I vote we make this our 'Sunday thing' 'til they get back in business,” Zeke said... loud enough for the other undesirable patrons to hear. Casey nodded.
“Maybe even do it every other week, doughnuts then here, doughnuts then here...”
“Whattaya say, Tory?” Zeke asked.
“Sure, this is yummy-yummy,” Torrin replied. “I like Suzy, too.”
“Me too,” Casey said.
“She's real pretty, I like her hair.”
Torrin's comment made Casey chuckle again, while Zeke raised his eyebrows and ahh'ed. “She's a little too old to be your girlfriend, though.”
“Huh?” Torrin paled a little, and not from the next dollop of cream he'd tried shoving into his gut. “I don't want a girlfriend... 'til I'm... a hundred years old!”
Casey almost choked on his next bite of egg at this, while Zeke tried to sip some coffee, tittering at the rim of his mug.
It wasn't long before the natural disaster next to them was being served their food; Suzy strained to pass the father his plate, almost having it knocked from her hand by an overeager Michael who went to grab it, yelling, “Is this one mine??” Mom once again began explaining in too-much-detail about how he had to be patient, Suzy sniffing as she handed Michael his meal. David all but dove across his mother to get HIS breakfast; this time, Dad wasn't as patient.
“David! Sit down,” he said in a much sharper tone than he'd used so far. David didn't pay him any mind, warbling maniacally and grabbing his silverware as his plate was put before him. With every meal in place, Mom cleared her throat.
“Okay, now; let's take hands and say 'grace'...”
“GRACE!”
David's outburst made Michael chortle noisily. Casey watched as Dad reached over to him and took his hand in a firm grip. “We don't joke around when it comes to the Lord, you know that,” he said to his son.
“Was jes' kiddin'...” David said.
“All right... dear Lord, thank you for this lovely meal, and for all the blessings you give our family every day...”
Casey rolled his eyes but stopped dead when he saw Zeke folding his hands and miming a ridiculous, over-exaggerated praying along with them. To stifle the urge to laugh uproariously, Casey shoved a huge bite of toast into his mouth; he still trembled and shook, growing worse when Zeke slowly slid his hand to his mouth and mimicked the motions usually seen during a blowjob. Casey flicked his eyes to Torrin, hoping he didn't catch it; the boy was staring at the family however, nose and brow crinkled.
“What're they doing?” he hissed in question.
“Begging for mercy,” Zeke remarked in a whisper.
“Zeke, shh-hh...” Casey said before clapping his hand over his mouth.
Finished with her serving, Suzy moved onto their table. They'd become her oasis, the eye of the storm, shown in her face brightening as she stood before them now. “How's everything here?” she asked.
Casey looked up and grinned. “Fantastic, thank you,” he said.
“Are those waffles as good as you thought they'd be, Torrin?” she asked the boy.
“Ya, I'm almost done cos' they were way too yummy,” Torrin replied, nodding to his near empty plate.
“I see that, yea,” Suzy said, chuckling. “And thank you again for being so nice and polite. Your daddies must teach you about manners BIG time.”
“Ya. I burped before, but diddit in a napkin. I still had to say 'scuse me, though.”
She gave off another hearty laugh. “Oh god, you're my new fave kid...” she said; with a, “Take your time, guys,” and the promise of another warm-up, she left them alone again.
“She's right, you know,” A voice came from across the aisle. They looked over to the two older women sitting there, the one drinking her tea and wearing granny-glasses smiling Torrin's way. Like Suzy, she made a conspicuous glance to the other table, dealing with yet another disaster involving syrup getting all over the table and David's nice, brand-new dress slacks before adding, “You are a very well-behaved young man.”
Before the proud fathers could give their thanks, the other woman dressed in a bright and beautiful lavender dress stood up and went over, holding her opened purse. “If it's all right with your daddies... I have special sweet treats for special occasions like this,” she said.
“What... kind of treats?” Torrin said, staring at the flower-printed bag in her hands.
“Is it all right with you gentlemen...?” she asked them; Casey looked down at the opening of the bag, where she was letting him see the corner of a pack of Skittles poking out.
“Fine by me,” Casey said.
Seeing Zeke's nod, the woman lifted the bag of candy and showed it to Torrin, who gawked and sat up straighter. “I love Skittles!” he said in an awed voice.
“I figured you did; you look a lot like my grandson. He's a very nice boy, too, so I always keep sweets handy.” The kind lady handed them over to their very grateful boy.
“Thank you!” he said in a light cheer.
“You're welcome, sweetheart. I'm glad to give them,” she said. Before she left them, she leaned in, whispered, “Don't let the bastards get you down,” and went back to her table, being replaced by a coffee-carrying waitress.
~*~
The chaos and calamity of the table behind Zeke was barely a gnat's buzzing by the time the check had arrived, letting Casey, Zeke and Torrin not just enjoy their meal, but linger when it was finished. After all, Torrin had earned the right to eat candy after breakfast, not a common custom in their household. The sweet, kind surprises from their waitress and the grandmothers who'd left not long ago-both of them smiling at them and saying, “God bless,” as they'd left, with the agnostics replying, “You too,” without pause-had inspired Torrin into not just asking if he could have the rainbow'ed treat, but give his fathers a small pile, as well.
It didn't matter that David was being badgered to finish the pancakes he'd barely touched, him giving loud, nasal whining that he wasn't hungry as a reply, and Casey had grown used to Micheal's complaining that THEY hadn't gotten any candy from the elderly diners. Their parents didn't pay it any mind after a while, talking over the babbling and bumping as if it wasn't happening. Perhaps they'd accepted the fact that they were a pair of extremely shitty parents, and the dark looks they received from nearly everyone around them had been earned. The only other argument they engaged in was over David's not wanting to shop for new dress shoes after breakfast at the Payless next door.
“Your Auntie's wedding is next weekend, remember?” she opened with, going on to explain how important it was to look nice for such a special occasion, onto how they needed to treat clothes with respect, “Especially your church clothes,” and... she didn't get it.
“Because I'm your father,” put an end to ridiculous arguing when Casey had been a child, and while he wasn't as firm or unyielding as his own dad when it came to his parenting Torrin, he didn't let the boy get away with the kind of asinine, argumentative behavior this family displayed. Even Zeke, someone who'd grown up without attentive parents knew better. He'd always said he wouldn't be like his father, and he wasn't. He was a natural, someone who truly understood what set a kid on the right path. All of that and so much more was why Torrin rarely threw tantrums or acted-out; not just because they'd send him to bed without dessert or give him time-outs, but because he was a good, nice person and they treated him like a person. Torrin wasn't a thing, a trophy or 'what married people did', but a human being and he knew it. He was allowed to ask questions, or even take his toys apart to see how they worked.
“It's how they learn,” Casey had said when Zeke had been annoyed with Torrin for dismantling his talking alphabet toy-one of three, really, and the oldest of the bunch. “And it's his stuff. If he regrets it later, well...” Casey hadn't needed to finish, especially when Zeke himself had gotten curious over one of the metal parts Torrin had revealed. It'd taken him away from the question, “Where'd he get the stupid screwdriver from, anyway?” to “Wow, wonder what THIS thing does...” and all was well.
But when Casey saw the mother getting their coats and Dad walking off to the register to pay their bill, he went on the defense again. Relieved that they were leaving, yes; he still didn't want any mean looks or comments, if they so dared to give them. Mom seemed fine with keeping her gaze averted, however, concentrating on forcing the boys into their jackets... even if, according to them, it was getting 'hot' out. It'd been barely forty degrees when they'd arrived, a typical New England December day.
With Dad's return, the family trudged their way down the aisle-still not looking to the Connor-Tyler table, nor anyone else. Casey swore he heard someone clapping in the next row as they reached the front doors and exited. A heavy sigh of relief flooded out from Casey's chest, making him wonder if he'd been holding his breath. Zeke tossed a green Skittle in his mouth, turned to the vacated table and made a low whistle.
“Jesus wept,” he muttered.
Casey strained to look over the seat then cringed at the scene. The large pools of jam, syrup and milk would've been nice as an avant-garde piece, but not-so when it came to the staff who had to clear it away. A fork was stabbed into the metal menu-holder, one of the tines bent up from what had to be a violent shove. The salt shaker had been uncapped to let a large pile of the seasoning escape and mix with the three, mashed-up and open butter packets next to it. Torn napkins, bits of pancake, even a link of what HAD to be chewed-up sausage sat on the provided dessert menu.
“That's just fucking wrong,” Casey said, just as Suzy arrived to survey the damage. She paused at the table but for a moment before she sighed and stayed professional; she must have seen this coming, as Casey hadn't seen her carrying a small plastic container full of soapy water, sponge and large rag during other table clean-ups, until now.
“Well...” Zeke shrugged and nodded to one of the plates, where a bill was sticking out. He next gave Suzy an apologetic smile. “...It's only ten bucks, but it's something.”
Suzy smirked, raised her eyebrows and turned to him. “It's a fakie.”
“A... what?” Zeke asked.
Still smirking through the pain, Suzy lifted the plate and removed the bill-which ended up not being currency at all. She handed it to Zeke and said, “We know what church they go to; they've been here before.”
Casey leaned in quick to look at the item along with Zeke. When he saw what it was, he gasped. “What... the... fu...”
“'The Lord loves you... that love is MUCH more important than material goods and wealth, and we give you His blessings along with our thanks for your loving service,'” Zeke read the text in the middle of what was supposed to be money-markings, growing more and more crimson as he spoke. “'Keep this in a special place as a reminder that God loves you and does his best to show you that love every day.'... 'K, it's in all-caps now, but just pretend I'm shouting it, 'God bless you and all who heed his Word!'”
“There are like, fifty of those taped up by the time clock; you want it?” Suzy asked. How she could smile, having had this done to her, was an enigma.
“That's... disgusting. And wrong,” Casey said, still in disbelief.
“We know, we know,” Suzy said. “I got the warnings from the other girls who've served them before. I've only been here two weeks, hadn't had a run-in with 'em yet. I guess I've been... christened.”
“You're doing a damned good job, 'k? I figured you were a veteran with the service you gave us,” Casey said in an angry spit.
“Aw... thanks. You guys are awesome, too. I'm... um, sorry if you heard anything they'd... said.”
“We've heard it before, but it's dying down,” Zeke said.
“Good.”
“We worship the Flying Spaghetti Monster.”
Torrin's sudden conversation-starter made them all look to him; Suzy chortled heavily. “Bless his noodly appendages!” she all but cheered then went over, her hand held up in a high-five position to Torrin, who grinned like an idiot and gave her one. Casey and Zeke smirked and sat back as she walked off, still laughing.
“So... she's getting herself a nice, hefty tip. Like, half-the-bill nice and hefty,” Casey said.
“Damned right.”
Casey stood up to get his and Torrin's coats. “C'mon, kiddo; let's go to the park.”
“Ooh,” Torrin said. He put up no fuss at all getting his jacket on, of course. Casey smiled, helped him from the seat and wandered to the front. Zeke lagged behind a little, setting the bill-holder down in the middle of the table then getting his coat on. Suzy then came from the kitchens; she smiled and went over to Torrin.
“Have a nice day, buddy! I work every Sunday, so come visit me again,” she said.
“Yea, we will!” Torrin said; he wanted another high-five, apparently, which Suzy was glad to give him. She then wandered down the aisle to their table; Zeke saw her coming, made a nervous smile then jogged down to where Casey and Torrin stood.
“'K, let's go...”
“Daddy, can I have a gumball?”
Casey looked to the large, shiny gumball dispenser right by the door. Despite the fact that he'd had a mountain of sugar for both breakfast and his 'grandma gift'... “Yea, sure,” he said, digging change out from his pocket. He looked to Zeke as he handed Torrin a quarter and said, “That's okay, ri... what's wrong?”
“Nothing, let's hurry up and motor--”
“Hey-hey, wait a minute, guys!”
Zeke winced, Casey barely noticing it when he looked up again. Suzy was jogging back to them, holding up what looked to be money. With a puff of chuckles, she said, “Sir, I-I think you made a mistake...”
“No, no mistake... go on, Torrin, get some gum...”
“There's two-hundred-and-fifty bucks here, this is a BIG mistake,” Suzy said.
Casey looked the bills she held and stared, but Zeke busied himself with helping Torrin turn the machine's knob. “Please be blue, PLEASE be... oh, darn, a dumb white one...” Torrin said as his candy rolled down the neon-lit track. Zeke stood, bit his lower lip and finally turned to face the girl.
“You just gotta promise me one thing,” he said mysteriously. Suzy, unblinking, nodded slowly.
“Oh... 'kay...”
“Next time those rotten pricks come in and order something... you come out with a stack of empty plates. When they ask where their food is, you let 'em know that 'God's love' is more important than eating,” he said. When the girl let out a loud whoop of laughter, Zeke raised his eyebrows. “I'm dead serious.”
“Dude, I'd probably lose my job.” Suzy held the money out to him. “I can't keep that promise, so you get it back.”
Zeke flicked his eyes from her face to the cash; a slow smile spread over his lips. “Spit on their food?”
“Oh god...”
“Go to the bathroom, not wash your hands?”
“Zeke, c'mon...” Casey took his arm, looked to Suzy and smiled. “Just ignore his demands, keep it.”
Suzy turned a dozen shades of pink before putting the bills in her pocket. “I'll... think of something,” she said. Casey swore he saw tears in her eyes as she said, “Thank you.”
Zeke smiled, made a lazy salute then slung his arm over Casey's shoulders to lead him out, Torrin going to Casey's other side. Once outside in the chilly air (too hot for coats nothing, Casey would ground Torrin for not wanting to wear a coat in this weather) Zeke glanced to the Payless. “Hey... do we need shoes?” he asked.
“I don't think so, we-NO.” Casey laughed and pulled Zeke over to the lot where their car waited for them. Imagining Zeke throwing large wads of cash at the unfortunate shoe salespeople dealing with the hell-beasts was amusing, but Casey's wonderful, giving and always-loving husband had saved enough poor souls from overbearing and hateful Bible-thumpers for one day.