The Return of Pluto's Socket

15. Faith of the Void

Vanessa's POV

December 23

I rode a train to a restaurant called the Roasters, established during the 1990s. It quickly declared itself a popular location for tourists who wanted to see Washington (at least, the side that wasn't affected by the war). College students from different districts would gather to taste their coffee, tea, burgers, waffles, and other sweet treats. Its peaceful atmosphere attracted employees for good work and decent pay. Whenever a visitor would walk in, there would be study groups scattered around, busy people who wanted a quick snack, families of different backgrounds, and couples making small talk. There were decorations hung along the walls according to the season, providing the perfect touch to the average coffee shop experience. It was a place to catch up with old friends, become acquainted with crucial clients, and open opportunities for different consumers.

I had brought a tote bag containing my laptop, a pencil case, two notebooks, and an encased envelope for today's acquaintance. A week had passed since my latest adventure, but I missed the feeling of going into an unfamiliar setting and stepping into insecurity. Today was cloudy in Washington, and I had just finished my classes. I felt suspension change into tensed shoulders as I opened the door to the restaurant. The sound of a bell played when I walked in, indicating my presence, and I looked around before walking to a face I recognized.

I stood in front of a booth that sat by a window. I waved, knowing I wouldn't get a big reaction, "Good morning, Ingrid."

The woman came from her cold-stone gaze and turned to me. She nodded and responded, "Hello, Vanessa."

"Looks like somebody is feeling talkative today." I tried to play a joke with her since she seemed stressed. I took the opposite side from her, sat down, and put my bag to the side.

Ingrid leaned back in her chair and scoffed. "I don't understand how you can casually talk to me like we're friends. I don't even like you."

"Oh, please. I fixed your leg, and you told me about your daughter. I would say we've reached beyond acquaintances." I looked underneath the table with curiosity. "Speaking of which, how is it?"

She rested her cheek on her hand, "It's been healing. The doctor at my workplace said I sprained it, so he put a proper brace around my ankle and gave me Tylenol." She looked off to the side, "He said that if I didn't have the cast and kept walking, it could've been a lot worse."

I smiled, "At least that's a plus, right?"

Suddenly, a waiter walked to our table with two menus. He wore a red, white checkered shirt with blue ripped jeans. He had an apron tied at his waist with a notepad inside. As I accepted the food list, he spoke in a slight French accent, "Good morning, folks. How are we doing today? Can I get you started with any drinks?"

"Uhm." I thought, then answered, "Can I have a strawberry smoothie, please?"

Ingrid said softly, "I'll have a glass of water."

The waiter quickly took out the notepad and wrote down our order. "Okay, I will be back with those shortly! Why don't you two look at the menu while I get your drinks?"

After the man left with a swift pace, I looked at Ingrid. "The food here looks palatable. Did you see the pictures?"

She rolled her eyes, "First of all, I have no idea what the fuck palatable means. Second, we didn't come here for leisure time. We need to get to business." She folded her menu and put it on the edge of the table. "I can't afford to stay here for long, let alone afford the food. It's way too expensive for my budget."

I laughed, "Relax, don't be so stressed. We'll get to it soon, but I'm hungry, so I want to order some food." I whispered, "By the way, it means tasty... And do you not have a lot of money to spend?"