Shutout

Chapter 3 - Kane

When I walk into the restaurant, I try to survey what I can see to find Karla. The hostess doesn't seem to understand what I'm doing. 

"Um, hello. How many?"

"Oh!" I finally do see the redhead seated in a booth in the far corner, "I'm actually meeting someone. She's over there."

She insists on walking me to the booth, which is embarrassing for both of us, I presume. My crutch almost falls from leaning against the booth, so I just throw my backpack farther into the seat, slide the crutch behind me on the seat, and sit forward. Karla already has a Coke placed in front of her.

"Finally, I thought you were never coming."

I grin at my friend, opening the menu as if I'll order something new from what I order literally every time. This is our lunch spot, "You can't rush beauty, Karla. You, of all people, should understand."

She swirls her straw in her cup, narrowing her eyes at me, "Was that a backhanded compliment or an insult?"

I don't have time to reply because the waiter, a gentleman who still has pep in his step, so likely fresh into his shift, pops out of nowhere and asks what I want to drink. I get an orange soda every time, too. We try to rotate our lunch options for our bi-weekly meet-ups because we're both embarrassed that the staff will recognize us if we come too often. Luckily, they haven't made any indication that they have. 

"Whew, I'm sweating. It's so hot out today," I fan myself with the menu, and Karla stares at me with disdain. 

Karla was my physical therapist four years ago when I first moved to Indianapolis. We got along instantly, and when I decided I could no longer afford to keep the appointments financially, we agreed to meet outside sometime. Thus, she became one of my best friends in the city, and we try our best to schedule some type of meet-up every couple of weeks or so. It's usually based on Karla's schedule because she has a real grown-up job and a toddler to shuffle her life around. 

"Should I drop you off at the free water park in Meadows Park?"

"Imagine my disabled ass trying to run through the sprinklers with a bunch of toddlers. I would be arrested."

Karla grins evily, "Perfect, right?"

Karla was objectively very beautiful. She's only two years younger than me, but I feel like she looks more mature in a stoic way. She had dark red hair, artificially darker than her natural red that I've only seen in photos but that her daughter...Hailey shares. Since it's the weekend, the restaurant bustles around us, and Karla isn't in her work clothing like she sometimes is. 

Again, the waiter pops out of nowhere, probably blending into the chaos of the scenery, placing a bubbling orange soda in front of me. Karla orders first, something she has learned to do instinctively after eating out with me so often. 

Although I know exactly what I want, I have to open the menu and carefully read it off the laminated paper. Even after all these years, ordering food gave me anxiety. My speech was no worse than anyone else at this point, but I always felt like I'd regressed as the waiter stared at me with intent. Luckily, this time, I didn't stumble and handled the menu back over. 

Once the waiter is gone, Karla folds her arms onto the table, "Okay, do you want to go first, or should I?"

"You," I take a light sip of my soda, "duh."

"Okay, so last time I told you about one of the caretakers at Hailey's preschool slash daycare, it had been gone for a couple of weeks." Daycare...I remember! She was the main one, but every time Hailey was dropped off or picked up, she wasn't there anymore, and Karla didn't know what happened, "I finally found out why. Her son, the oldest, I think, got arrested for domestic abuse against his girlfriend and baby mama."