by Scott Baron
With Randy at work, Dorothy took a quick walk up the road to Fausto’s. She greeted the Italian warmly, then made a quick beeline to the alterations experts.
“Ladies, I need your help.”
The three sisters looked up from their work.
“We know you,” Klotthie said, fidgeting with her spindle.
“Yes, I was in with my boyfriend a few months ago,” Dorothy replied.
“You’re right,” Atroppie muttered. “We do know her.”
“What’s changed?” Lakhie wondered. “So interesting. So unusual!”
Dorothy cut to the chase.
“I have a new dress, but it needs fitting. Do you think you can help me? I need it by tomorrow night.”
The three women circled her, examining her as they did.
“Do we run the thread out?” Klotthie wondered. “Something is different.”
“Different is uncomfortable. I say we cut, while we can,” Atroppie posited. “I’ll get my shears.”
Lakhie stayed her sister’s hand.
“No.” She studied the young woman for several moments, taking her in, head to toe. “At least not yet. But soon? Perhaps. First we have much to understand.”
Dorothy had no idea what the three old Greek women were on about.
I hope they can get my alterations done in time.
“Yes, we can,” Klotthie’s eyes sparkled.
“What?”
“Your alterations. We can have them by tomorrow afternoon.”
How did she know what I was thinking?
The three women smiled.
“Come,” Lakhie said. “Let us measure. You will look beautiful on your big night.”
“I still say we cut.”
“Atroppie,” her sister muttered.
“Fine, we measure. Always the measuring, never the cutting. You’re too sentimental, Lakhie.”
Ten minutes, and a great deal of fraternal bickering later, Dorothy headed for the door.
“It will be ready anytime after twelve, tomorrow,” Klotthie called out to the departing girl. “It is a big day for you. Trust us, you’ll look wonderful.”
CHAPTER 30
Dorothy stood alone on the dark corner, a vision in a beautiful deep red dress, flashing its color when a passing car would flap her long, black coat aside in its wake.
What’s taking him so long?
She’d been standing there for several minutes, waiting. Randy was being mysterious this evening, full of a barely contained nervous energy. Fortunately for him, that just made him all the more charming in her eyes.
But even charming only went so far when you were left hanging on a lonely street corner.
Well, at least no one’s propositioned me, she thought with a smile.
Yet.
Dorothy thought she might wind up regretting that last thought as a shiny black Mercedes sedan glided to a stop in front of her, its powerful engine thrumming in quiet rhythm as it reflected her image back to her in its deeply polished flanks.
The driver’s door opened, and Randy stepped out.
What the…?
“M’lady,” he said with a bow as he came around and opened the passenger door for her. “Your carriage awaits.”
“But you haven’t driven since—”
“Special occasion,” he interrupted her. “No buses for you tonight. Nope. Tonight, my girl travels in style.”
Dorothy wasn’t about to argue, so she slid into the soft leather seat. Randy closed the door after her, then trotted back to climb into the driver’s seat and buckle in.
“And away we go!” The excitement in his voice had her curiosity piqued. Soon enough she’d learn their mysterious and special destination.
Really? she thought. This?
Having shed her coat, Dorothy was resplendent in her beautiful new outfit, not a hair out of place, and certainly the best-looking woman in the establishment by a long shot.
“So this is our special night out?” she said from the confines of their familiar vinyl booth. The diner was only moderately busy, but she was still acutely aware of just how out of place they both looked. “I mean, I like it here, don’t get me wrong, but you were really hyping things up, Randy.”
Randy didn’t even notice the other diners as he shifted nervously in his seat. His every sense was fixed on Dorothy with laser intensity. Finally, he spoke in carefully measured words.
“Do you know why this is special? I mean, why it is so special to me?” He looked deep in her eyes as he spoke, his pulse strong under his collar as his heart beat hard.
“It’s special because you blew me off in this booth. This is where we first met. And while it may just be some booth in a diner to anyone else, to me, it’s the most important place I can think of.”
Well, mister, flattery will get you everywhere, you know. She smiled at him, and was about to verbalize the thought, when Randy unexpectedly started to rise.
Wait, are we going already? We just got here.
Before she could voice a protest, Randy’s stance took an unexpected turn as he went from two feet to quite the opposite, dropping to one knee on the polished linoleum floor, deftly popping open the small box hidden in his hand.
“Look, I know this is kind of out of left field, but when you know, you know, and… well, the thing is… Dorothy, will you marry me?”
Dorothy touched her cheeks. They were wet, she found, as her unplanned tears of joy welled forth.
“You know who I am. What I am,” she said as he took her hands in his.
“Angel of Death, or crazy lady from the nuthouse—the thing is, whoever you are, I love you with all my heart, and there’s nobody else I can imagine wanting to be with for the rest of my life. Baby, if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”
He held his breath as he awaited her response.
Could I? I mean, could I really? She was amazed to find herself actually considering it. Famine and the others seem to be doing a good job picking up the slack without me, she reasoned, weighing the likely repercussions of her choice. She looked at Randy’s loving gaze, waiting for her answer. You know what? I think I can live with that just fine.
Dorothy slowly raised her hand for him.
“I’d be honored, Randy.”
His face looked like it would split in half, he was smiling so broadly as he slid the delicately crafted ring onto his fiancée’s finger. She looked at it glistening on her hand, admiring the vintage-design swirl of sapphires and rubies.
Angela glanced over at what was happening and nearly dropped the plates she was carrying. Fortunately, she managed to toss them on the counter before screaming with joy as she ran over to congratulate her friends.
“Oh my God! Congratulations! I can’t believe it! This is amazing!”
“Well, it’s largely thanks to you, Angie. If you hadn’t pushed me that night… well, thanks for kicking my ass into gear.” She laughed, then hugged them both, mascara running down her cheeks.
“Listen, you two, don’t go anywhere. I have to take care of the family at table twelve, but then I’ll be right back. This is so exciting!” She dabbed her face with a napkin, leaving it looking like a somewhat Goth shroud of Turin, then hurried to the waiting guests.
“So, what do you say?” Randy asked. “Shall we grab a bite? I know I must’ve just burned a whole week’s worth of blood sugar worrying what you’d say.”
“Baby,” she said, “you’ve really outdone yourself.” She then leaned in and gave him a tender kiss.
An hour later they lounged in the booth, full from a hearty meal and relaxing in the glow of the evening’s events. Randy had left his pocket watch on the table along with his phone, and Dorothy picked it up as she’d done so many times since they’d met, absentmindedly fiddling with the ornate design on the case.
As she traced the inlaid metal lines, sitting with the man who wanted to be with her forever, a warm sense of calm washed over her.
Now this was a good day, she thought as she baske
d in a happy glow. An actual life, she marveled at the possibilities. That means we have, what, fifty or sixty years? The world will be fine for that, and besides, really, it’s just a blink of the eye. She smiled at Randy as she imagined all the good times in store.
“I think this calls for a celebration beyond our celebratory pie and coffee, wouldn’t you agree?” Randy asked.
“What did you have in mind?” she replied with a mischievous smile, her eyebrow raised in a manner that left no doubt what she was thinking.
“Well, I just so happen to have a lovely bottle of champagne chilling at home. I had to disguise it as a case of Budweiser.”
“Now I know why that suddenly showed up.”
“Well, I knew you’d never touch the stuff, so—”
At that moment something clicked in her hand. Dorothy wasn’t even thinking about her movements as she absentmindedly traced the design of one of the runes she’d learned with her finger. To both their surprise, the enamel gave way as a small piece of the case slid aside under her finger, the back of the watch popping open with a soft ping.
“Hey, how’d you do that?” Randy said, surprised. “I’ve never been able to get it open. I guess you must have the magic touch.”
“There’s an engraving,” Dorothy noticed.
“What does it say?”
She opened the case fully and read the ornate text.
“Forever is today, but forever.”
A little smile blossomed on her lips as she closed the case and handed it back to him.
“Hmm, kind of anti-climactic, but sweet nonetheless,” he mused.
“I think it was perfect,” she said. “And fitting for our celebration.”
“Speaking of celebrations,” Randy added, a sexy smile in his eyes, “we have more celebrating to do back home. Allow me to fetch your chariot, m’lady. I’ll be right back.”
He rose to his feet, kissed his fiancée deeply, then stepped out into the night, walking on air as he headed to retrieve the rented luxury car from the nearby parking garage.
“Congratulations again!” Angela said as she wrapped Dorothy’s slender frame in her arms and gave her a massive hug. “I’m so happy for you two! Now go home and celebrate!” she said with a mischievous wink.
“Thanks, Angie. We’ll see you soon,” she replied as she stepped out into the cool night air.
Dorothy paced down the street a bit, aimlessly pivoting on her toes, stretching up in a bouncing gait, a physical manifestation of her excellent spirits. She was downright glowing with happiness as she waited for Randy’s return, perma-grin firmly plastered to her face.
With no warning, out of the shadowy alleyway beside the diner, a huge hand broke her trance as its owner roughly dragged her into the darkness around the corner.
Big Stan.
“It took me months, but I finally found you, you bitch!” his deep voice rumbled, his fingers digging into her arms as he held her firmly in place.
“We’re clear across town, Stan,” she said, “and nowhere near Camview. I’m out of your hair. Why can’t you just let me be?”
“Doc said to bring you back. One way or another.” His smile was unnerving. “I’m kind of hoping for ‘another,’” he said, the threat clear in his tone.
“Hey now, let’s not be rude on her special night,” a familiar voice said from the shadows.
Curtis stepped forward into the light, sizing up Stan as he gave a little smile to his surprised friend.
“Curtis?” she uttered his name in shock.
Stan rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, his attention turning to Curtis as he shoved Dorothy into some boxes and out of his way. He eyed the AWOL nutjob like a lion eyeballing a juicy steak after a long fast.
Today, the lion was hungry.
“Oh, little man,” he growled, “I’m going to enjoy this.”
The ever-present smile slowly slid from Curtis’s face.
“No, Stan,” he replied. “No, you aren’t.”
The huge man was taken aback by the escaped mental patient’s demeanor. Curtis was actually being serious, and he was never serious. And hang on, had he actually just challenged him?
Stan lunged at his much smaller adversary, but his swinging fist met with empty air as Curtis deftly dodged out of the way. All this did was make him angrier.
“All right, no more messing around,” Stan bellowed as he charged, confident in his sheer size overwhelming his prey.
Curtis paused for a millisecond, then his posture shifted, ever so subtly, and for the first time since she’d known him, Dorothy watched her friend unleash violence.
And oh, what violence it was.
I don’t believe it. I had no idea, she marveled.
To her great surprise, her jovial and previously harmless-seeming friend moved with the speed and skill of a master martial artist, easily avoiding the pawing swipes of his much larger opponent as he ducked clear, then lunged in, landing devastating combinations of knees, elbows, and kicks before deftly sliding back out of range of Stan’s counterattacks.
In short order it became very clear that Stan was horribly outmatched, and as that unsettling realization flashed across the huge man’s shocked face, Curtis allowed himself a little smile, locking eyes with the lion, who had now become the prey.
Stan’s eyes betrayed a glimmer of fear, but before he could fully realize that thought and wrap his brain around the fact that someone had actually scared him (which hadn’t happened since well-before his teenage growth spurt), Curtis was upon him.
My God, he’s so fast, Dorothy thought as she watched her friend lay into the man once more. She could tell this was the coup de grace, as Curtis sprang into an even faster burst of action, his flurry of brutal blows raining down on Stan like a relentless hail storm, pummeling him with granite fists until he dropped to the damp pavement with a thud.
Stan may have only been unconscious, but he certainly wasn’t going to be getting up anytime soon.
Curtis was breathing hard, a slight sheen of sweat glistening on his brow, his body tense and ready for a fight.
Dorothy stared at him, not sure what to make of her friend.
And then, as if he’d simply flipped a switch, Curtis gave a little roll to his shoulders and his posture returned to its usual relaxed and casual state as he loosened his muscles and stood up straight. He sighed, letting the tension slide from his body as easily as shedding a loose coat.
With one last neck roll, he looked up to the sky.
“God, that felt good,” he said, a faint smile on his lips.
He shifted his gaze to Dorothy, eyes glinting with happiness at the sight of his friend. She didn’t hesitate, running up and giving him a huge hug.
“Curtis, that was amazing!” she gushed. “How on Earth did you—and hey, where have you been? It’s been months!”
“Well, there was a big lockdown after you left. Plus, I kinda figured you two kids could use some alone time.” He glanced at the vintage ring on her finger and smiled. “Guess I was right.”
“But how did you get out? How did you know that Stan—I mean, what were you thinking?”
“Hey, I have my ways. Besides, I told you, someone has to look out for you.” He kissed her on the cheek and gave her a warm look, then turned to walk away.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“Why, back, of course. It’s movie night, and I’m missing out on the free popcorn.”
“But you should stay.”
He smiled at her kindly, looking unusually wise for a goofy jokester.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said before walking away. He stopped and turned back one more time. “Go on now, go be happy,” he called to her, then with a final Cheshire grin, he vanished down the dark alley.
I really don’t know him as well as I thought, Dorothy pondered as she dusted herself off, still unsure what to make of her friend’s hidden talent.
She looked at Stan lying prone in the alley. He was going to be a pr
oblem if she didn’t do something about him.
I’ll call in an anonymous tip to the police when we get home, she thought. Say there was a mugger in the alley. That should give me enough time to think of a more long-term solution.
She walked out of the alleyway to the street where Randy was waiting for her in the sedan. He saw her, his face brightening as he stepped out of the sleek Mercedes.
“There you are!” he called to her, smiling at the sight of her, though it had just been a few minutes. “I didn’t see you when I pulled up, thought maybe you got cold feet and changed your—”
The silver sedan really wasn’t even speeding that much when it drifted across the lane and smashed into Randy as he closed the driver’s side door.
At the last second the driver had hit the brakes, the screech of tires desperately grabbing for traction coming far too late as his alcohol-impaired reflexes had no chance of preventing the impact.
Randy’s body flew through the air, arms and legs flapping this way and that as he tumbled off the hood of the car and rolled to a pile in the street.
Dorothy stood there in shock as Angela rushed out of the diner and sprinted to Randy’s side.
“Call an ambulance!” she yelled to the lone patron who had followed her outside.
“I’ve got 9-1-1 on the line,” the man replied. “A man has been run over…” he began into the phone.
Standing stock-still on the sidewalk, Dorothy stared, frozen in place.
That’s odd, where did that car come from? And what’s that noise?
She didn’t realize that noise was her own screaming as she slid deep into shock.
The inebriated driver managed to stumble from his car with a lurch.
“Is he okay?” the man asked, then slumped drunkenly against his hood.
If Dorothy had her wits about her, she might have recognized him from her nightmares. Andy, the man whose soul she’d failed to take all those months ago.
“Dorothy!” Angela yelled to her. “Dorothy! Snap out of it! Come here and help me! Dorothy!”
Finally the fog seemed to lift from her brain, and Dorothy forced her leaden legs to shuffle forward. She gazed at Randy, bloody and unconscious, and slid to the ground at his side, taking his hand in hers as she sobbed.