Seth jerked awake when someone yanked off his blanket. His warm cozy cocoon vanished in an instant, leaving a rush of cold air to assault him.
"Wake up, kiddo!"
The voice was familiar, but Seth's groggy brain had trouble placing it. He grumbled and rolled over, snatching a pillow to cover his head with. Maybe if he drowned out the voice, it'd go away and he could get back to sleep.
The pillow was also yanked away. "Seth Veregin!"
Hearing his name in a raised voice was just as effective as bucket of ice cold water to the face. He gasped, sitting up and eyes snapping open as a couple of interesting facts blossomed to life in his brain.
He was not alone in his apartment.
A certain old lady towered over his bed, scruffy gray brows inching up her forehead like caterpillars. She held the pillow she'd snagged from him.
Seth failed to stop his jaw from dropping. "What—what are you doing?"
Never mind that, how did she even get into his apartment? He had the only key, and he always made sure to lock the door.
Laughter danced in her dark eyes. "You're late," she said matter-of-factly. "It's almost noon. Get dressed, unless you want to flash your cute penguins around town."
"Late for what? What are you talking about?" He glanced down at the ratty t-shirt and the shorts he usually slept in. His face flamed instantly. Oh no. Just like she mentioned, his shorts were the penguin ones. Again.
He grabbed the blanket and yanked it up to his chest. "Why are you here? How did you get in?"
"I just told you." A very unlady-like snort came from Mrs. Beakor, before she turned away. "I'll wait by the door, kiddo. Hurry up." He heard her chuckle as she left his bedroom and disappeared into his apartment.
Ugh. He pressed his hands against his face. Heat radiated from his skin and ears like a furnace. It was too early in the day to deal with this.
He managed to scrounge up a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that smelled okay and didn't have any visible stains. After he quickly washed up in the bathroom and got dressed, he cautiously ventured into the living area of his apartment.
Mrs. Beakor was sitting on the coffee table, rifling through the newspaper he'd found outside his door a couple of mornings ago. He stood in awkward silence, not sure what one was supposed to say to an intruder. It was a little alarming to find her in his apartment out of the blue, never mind dragging him out of bed.
Yet one look at her, browsing the newspaper as if she were in her own place, and he couldn't bring himself to tell her to leave. He could only stand helplessly, and hope she said nothing further about his penguins.
"Ready?" She glanced up, her wiry hair bouncing about her head. Her face was perfectly composed, showing no sign of whatever she was thinking. Yet her eyes seemed to laugh at him.
"For what?" There were so many questions whirling in his mind, making him feel a little nauseous. His dropped his eyes to the phone he held in his hand. He'd checked it first thing to see if there were any new notifications, but there wasn't. Not that he expected any. Lydia had said it'd be a few more days.
"Your furniture is at Ivan's," she told him, putting the paper down. "We'll pick that up, and then there's another place I want to take you to."
He frowned, not liking the sound of the last thing. "Where?"
"It's a diner. Nothing scary, I promise." She stood, and went to the door. He followed, though it was more like being tugged along in the currents left in a speedboat's wake.
Mrs Beakor led the way out of the door, waiting patiently while Seth made sure he had his key and that door was locked.
As they headed down the hallway, Seth couldn't wait any longer. "How'd you get in? I always lock my door."
A hint of smile tugged at Mrs. Beakor's lips. "You sure about that?"
"Yes."
"Huh," she shrugged. Then she lengthened her stride abruptly, putting herself ahead of him so that he no longer was able to see her face. He hurried to catch up, yet somehow, she managed to always be a step ahead of him.
Even when they took the stairs, she remained ahead. Seth moved faster, certain that he could keep up with an old woman. Yet by the time they reached the main floor, she was still in front of him and he was huffing and puffing like a dying pig.
She paused, glancing back. "You okay there, kiddo?"
Seth narrowed his eyes. Are you sure you're 80? He wanted to ask, but said nothing. His shredded pride moped in the corner. Besides, there was no way he was going to admit that an old lady was in better shape than he was.
"Fine," he muttered.
She smiled, a heartwarming grandmotherly smile, yet Seth got the feeling it was an act. The more he got to know Mrs Beakor, the more he was learning that she fit none of the stereotypes. Everything she did was unexpected.
And with that, the anxiety came roaring back. Mrs. Beakor led them to the parking lot, where an old beater of a car waited. It looked even older than Mrs Beakor.
Seth hesitated. "Why are we going to a diner?"
Mrs Beakor opened the taxi door andarched a steely gray brow at him. "I thought it was better than taking you to a nice quiet spot in the middle of the woods, where I could slit your throat and leave you for the wolves."
Seth choked on his own spit. What the heck?!
"I'm kidding," she said, perhaps a little too gleefully. "You're perfectly safe with me. Now get in, kiddo."
Seth really didn't feel like it. He eyed the old car. It beckoned for him to enter its dark, unknown depths. It didn't feel safe. Once he was inside, the door would undoubtedly slam shut behind him, trapping him inside for all of eternity.
Butterflies danced in his belly. He took a step back. "Maybe this isn't—"
"Seth." He lifted his gaze to meet hers. She gave a soft smile, different from her usual predatory style. It softened her entire face, made her seem like a regular gentle grandmother. "It'll be all right. We'll have some breakfast, since you just got out of bed, and then we'll pick up your furniture. After that, we'll go to the diner. It's small and quiet place, and it's owned by an old friend of mine. He's willing to give you some work, if you're okay with it."
Seth stared at her. His stomach turned over sickeningly. He really appreciated the help with the furniture, but he wasn't so sure about the diner situation. She'd gone out and found him a job?
That was too much.
You need a job, though.
But not this soon! And he didn't even know the place. Or the people. Or-
Give it a try, Fenn's voice whispered.
A knot had formed in Seth's throat. He swallowed it down. That was right. He had to try. He couldn't sit in his apartment forever. Eventually he'd have to start paying for the place, and he couldn't do it without a job.
It was just...it was embarrassing though that Mrs Beakor was doing so much for him. Why? Why would she go so far?
"Seth?" She prompted. "If you really don't want to, then we don't have to. I'm just trying to help you out since you're new to the area."
He wanted to say no. He wanted to run back to his apartment, curl up in a dark corner, and hide. It would be a thousand times easier than facing the unknown and dealing with things he knew would freak him out, like having to talk to strangers who'd probably judge him on the spot as some pathetic loser.
That's what he really wanted to do.
But, just like in Eliona, he wanted to get a little stronger. A little braver. He was living on his own now, after all. That meant he had to start doing things on his own, even if they were absolutely terrifying.
So he gave a tense nod. "Let's go."
Her eyes danced. "You sure?"
No. He absolutely wasn't. But he nodded again anyway.
"All right, kiddo. Get in the car."
He did. Though after remembering he was in a car from the first world war that was being driven by someone who lived the better part of a century, he made sure to put on the seatbelt. It was one of those lap belts that didn't even possess the shoulder strap. But the door had a pretty solid handle, so he gripped that tight in case she accidentally drove over a fire hydrant.
She drove them to the mall across the street. It was very anticlimactic. And, as it turned out, so was the whole moving the furniture thing. Between Ivan's pick-up truck, and Mrs Beakor's muscles, it didn't take them long to move a couch, table and chairs over to his apartment. There were even some pillows and a matching blanket that Ivan threw in at no extra charge.
Forty minutes later, he and Mrs Beakor were back on the road. He nibbled on a breakfast sandwich she'd grabbed from the store, too nervous to have much of an appetite.
"It'll be fine." She glanced at him from the driver's seat. (Despite Seth's expectations, she was a pretty decent driver.) "If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. But at the very least, just give it a try."
Despite himself, Seth huffed out a laugh. "That what my uncle told me."
"The one who helped you move?"
He'd already told her about Uncle Fenn when she first invited him over for lasagna, so it was a reasonable assumption. "Yeah."
Seth took a small bite out of the sandwich. It was made with a croissant as the bun, so it was extra buttery and fluffy. Even though he didn't feel hungry, it was tasty enough to entice him to have another bite.
"You'll have to bring him over when he visits you next," Mrs Beakor said. "From the way you've talked about him, he sounds like a wonderful man."
Seth flushed. Now that was just awkward. While he would actually love to see the two of them meet, the prospect also worried him. Mrs Beakor would probably worm all kinds of embarrassing details out of Fenn, who would be absolutely delighted to share. Fenn would make the penguin pajamas look tame.
Seth muttered something noncommittal and focused on scarfing down the rest of the sandwich.
The car turned down a street full of little odds and ends shops, and pulled up to a curb beside an old brick building. One of its windows was bordered up and the other gave a peek into a cozy little place filled with tables and chairs and checkered tile flooring. That was all the glimpse Seth got before Mrs Beakor opened her door.
"Here we are," she said.
From the outside, the diner didn't look like much. In fact, it appeared more run-down and decrepit up close. Instead of neon lights that were favoured by most little places like these, this place had dark metal letters attached to the side of the building, with yellow light bulbs beneath to illuminate them when it got dark. The metal letters proclaimed that this was THE GRUBBERY.
Seth scratched at his jaw nervously. So far, this wasn't exactly what he had pictured when Mrs Beakor had mentioned a diner. The Grubbery was a name that didn't exactly scream out fine dining.
When they went inside, a wave of heat enveloped them as the temperature increased by about twenty degrees. This was accompanied by the smell of hot grease and yeasty baking.
"Hey, Trip!" Mrs Beakor bellowed into the diner. The suddenness and volume of her shout nearly stopped Seth's heart mid-beat. "Get your arse out here!"
There were a couple of men decked out in reflective gear and steel-toe boots at a nearby table. At Mrs Beakor's shout, they started in surprise and turned to stare. Seth shifted so that she stood in between them and him. Not that he was hiding behind her. Oh no, definitely not.
He peeked around, and was very grateful to see that the two construction workers or whatever they were happened to be the only customers in the small diner. It seemed like a rustic sort of place, with wooden tables and chairs and dim yellow lights. The counter where food was ordered looked more like a bar counter, and the chalkboards hanging behind it proclaimed the menu and prices.
Eyeing the menu, it appeared The Grubbery had a current daily special of homemade chili or spicy fish sticks, and homestyle curly fries. For desert, they offered cinnamon rolls, key lime pie, or a Grub Sundae, whatever that was.
Oh, and there was a chalkboard dedicated to alcohol, which was only served after 4pm.
A small Asian man pushed through the swinging kitchen door. He had a slender gray moustache, wire-rimmed glasses, and a filthy apron over a polo shirt and slacks. He zeroed in on Mrs Beakor right away, his face breaking into a wide grin.
"Hel," he exclaimed. He walked around the counter and opened his arms wide. To Seth's surprise, the small man and Mrs Beakor embraced. It was almost funny too, since the man's face came up to her chest. Yet she didn't seem to mind at all when the man happily settled in for a hug that lasted several moments too long.
"Ah Hel," the man said again, though now his voice was muffled by her chest. "It's been too long."
"You're a liar, Trip," Mrs Beakor said fondly. "I just saw you two days ago."
"Truly?" Now the man—Trip—finally pulled away. He had to tilt his head back a little so he could look her in the face, though that lasted all of two seconds. Trip lowered his gaze and stared directly at her chest. "But it feels so much longer, my sweet Hel."
Seth stared with wide eyes. This was an 80 year old woman. And Trip—though he appeared to be somewhere between 50 and 70 himself—was openly ogling her. What shocked Seth even more was the fact that Mrs Beakor didn't seem to care.
"Enough with that," Mrs Beakor reached back and pulled Seth in front of herself. "This is Seth."
Seth found himself the subject of Trip's attention. The small man was shorter than Seth's average height, yet Seth couldn't help but feel like Trip towered over him. The man oozed confidence, yet he wasn't arrogant in the slightest. On the contrary, he seemed quite friendly and welcoming.
Trip gave Seth an easy smile, the kind that reached his eyes. He offered a hand. "Hello Seth. A pleasure to meet you. Call me Trip, as everyone does."
After a moment of hesitation, Seth shook the man's hand awkwardly, feeling his cheeks warm slightly.
"Um, thanks," he mumbled. When Trip released his hand, Seth relaxed a little, although his nerves were already frayed. He wasn't sure what was expected of him here, of how he was supposed to respond or act.
Mrs Beakor looked satisfied. "I'll leave the kiddo in your care then, Trip. Try not to break him, all right?"
Break-? Severance's eyes widened. She's kidding, right?
"Of course, I shall be on my best behaviour." Trip seemed amused.
Shaking her head, Mrs Beakor left the little diner. Seth watched the door close behind her with a sinking feeling in his gut. He inhaled slowly, trying his best not to devolve into a blubbering, panicking pile of goo.
At this moment, he thought he'd rather be running a dungeon with three men in black. At least then, he knew what to expect.
"Come then," Trip said. "Let's get you introduced to Jake. He'll show you what to do."
Seth supposed he didn't have much choice. He was here now, and if he survived this, he'd go demand 12 lasagnas from Mrs. Beakor. Because nothing short of that would make him forgive her for throwing him into this stressful situation. He nodded slowly.
"Great. To the kitchen, then!" With a grand gesture, Trip stepped around the counter. He strolled easily across the uneven flooring before pushing open the swinging door that led into the kitchen. "Jake my boy, we've got a helper!"
Upon following Trip into the kitchen, Seth was surprised to see that it was a lot smaller than he originally imagined. It was cluttered and cramped, yet still appeared organized and somewhat clean. The smell of hot oil and spices wafted towards him, prompting his stomach to growl quietly.
Seth barely noticed. He was busy staring at what had to be the largest man he'd ever seen in his life.
This is Jake?!