Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth

Chapter 18: Sucking the Marrow

His companion hadn't managed more than a sip at the iced tea in her hands. No doubt both thinking about the missing member of the group, someone whose very absence had created this new collaboration. Having gone it alone for so many weeks now, Gus had reached a minor breaking point and had dialed up the young woman out of the desperate need for companionship. Juliet, possibly suffering in her own way for lack of radical interaction, had agreed to lunch at the hot dog place near the station.

Now, though, rather than rewarding conversation or even the airing of work related irritants they sat quietly, both in deep study of the Old Man and the Sea accoutrements gathering dust on the walls. The one positive of this place, other than guaranteed acid reflux, was fast service. Under six minutes and the waitress was already returning with their order.

The next five minutes involved dressing up the dog on his plate with horseradish and mustard as well as removing several fries that had been haphazardly dumped across the lumpy chili and cheese concoction. Licking fingers, approving of the spicy flavor that tasted leagues better than it looked, Gus finally stabbed a fork in his meal and cut free a bite. Shoveling it in before the slowly dripping goo could stain his shirt, he looked across at Juliet while he chewed. She hadn't done more than drag one fry through ketchup.

She looked up, making an effort to smile before taking a bite.

They ate and sipped their drinks and only looked at one another when the other was occupied with watching other patrons. Juliet had never been a difficult person to talk to before. Easier than her partner, that wasn't a shock. Easier, at times, than Shawn – though that had more to do with his efforts at seeking an exchange that didn't involve random subject shifts between popcorn logic and, well, popcorn.

“Ketchup?” Gus held out the bottle in spite of the pool filling a good portion of Juliet's basket. She shook her head and dipped another fry. Her dog remained untouched.

Mental jumble aside, Gus cut and chewed and dipped his way through his food, washing it down with regular sips of soda. He only looked up again when the waitress stopped by to refill their glasses. Juliet had eaten about half of her hotdog by this point but didn't look as though she planned to finish. Wiping chili from his jaw, Gus set down knife and fork and folded his hands.

“You have a chance to visit him since he's been home?” No point clarifying the “who” he was speaking about.

Juliet shook her head. “Not since he was in the hospital. How about you?”

“Every day.” He hadn't meant it as a guilt trip but saw it had been taken that way. He leaned forward a little, pushing aside his plate to place his elbows on the table. “He isn't really talking yet. I don't know how ready he is for a lot of visitors. Mr. Spencer says he spends most of his time in his room.” He stopped himself after that, feeling like he was sharing something private. Shawn's trauma wasn't for idle conversation, even with friends. Especially when the friend was someone the boy had been romantically stalking for the past four years.

Juliet prodded the lemon that had drifted to the bottom of her glass, stirring the straw through mostly melting ice and lifting up a cloud of shed pulp and a single seed. “Is he... how is he... looking? I mean, does he seem to...?”