Strangers in the Storm ✔

Chapter 18: Trigger Words

DAMIEN

Damien's mother acted like she wasn't dying of cancer and Damien couldn't decide whether that was a blessing or a curse. On the one hand, handling the entire situation like this was probably better than lying in bed and crying and on the other, she was ignoring every advice the doctor gave her.

For the past month, she had been travelling, partying and God only knew what else. Damien wished she had done it all earlier, though, and wondered as he looked at her whether people truly figured out how to live only when it was too late.

Today, three of her closest friends came to her house for a barbecue. Damien has been preparing meat since morning, setting up the fire under the burning sun and trying to stay sober at the same time.

Dana's friends sat on the porch in the deep shade, pouring liquor down their throats like it was a youth elixir.

There was Irene; the fifty-something thin, tall lady dressed all in black, with huge designer glasses hiding her slightly wrinkled face. Irene used to be a model and she kept the figure and the superiority, even though the modelling industry kicked her to the curb a quarter of a century ago. Irene said it was because she turned twenty-five and those sons of bitches wanted a jailbait, but Damien guessed her cocaine problem played a role, too.

Then there was Sylvie; a much younger blonde who married a corporate lawyer down the street. Sylvie studied management, but never finished. It didn't stop her, though, for claiming she knew everything about everything. One thing she was right about. Judging by her husband, she recognised an opportunity when she saw one.

Marge, Dana's high school friend, was the last lady at the party; a short, slightly obese kindergarten teacher. Marge was Damien's favourite. Out of the bunch, she was the most honest one. Others tried their hardest to present themselves as better than they truly were. Marge claimed her life was shit and blamed her five children and her husband for it. Not the most productive mind-set, but at least she didn't hide her flaws behind designer sunglasses.

The four of them sat on the porch, talking shit about the one friend that couldn't make it to the party and waiting for Damien to dutifully serve them. Throughout the day, he has only had one beer and he was desperate for something way stronger.

Or he could share his misery.

Deciding on the latter, he texted Roxanne.

He felt guilty for dragging her into this, but if there was anything that could save his day, it was her. Damien also knew she wouldn't mind that much. After all, she was a waitress, she probably knew how to talk to drunk ladies.

There was also a sadder reason why he called her. When he looked at his mother's gradually shrivelling figure, he wondered whether there would be a better moment to introduce them. Maybe Dana chose to ignore it, but Damien was aware of the time slipping away from her. So, he jumped the steps in his and Roxanne's relationship, because he might not have another chance.

By the time she arrived, the barbecue was ready.

Dressed in a white, flowy, sleeveless dress, brown sandals and her red hair falling loosely over her back and shoulders, she immediately made Damien's day better. Even after almost two months, Damien couldn't believe how effortlessly beautiful she was.

Her doe-like eyes brightened when she looked at him, "Hey, there."

Damien opened the gates for her, "I have to warn you, there's four of them."

"So?" Roxanne chuckled. "I've dealt with more middle aged ladies in one place."

Damien leaned towards her, "They have margaritas."