Family Issues Ch. 08

"Come on, let's check the bar, I'm jonesing for a drink." She dragged him again, and Kevin searched for Helen but couldn't see her anywhere.

"Hi. What would you recommend?" he asked the Middle Eastern-looking bartender.

The man gave him a well-practiced smile. "Domaine Leroy, sir."

"Oh, sorry, I'm Kevin." Kevin shook his hand.

Sharon snorted. "It's the name of the wine, dummy."

"Oh, I knew that. I was just trying to be funny."

"Sure."

"That would be a hundred and fifty dollars, sir."

Kevin stared at him open-mouthed. "You're fucking with me, right?"

"Certainly not, sir."

"A hundred and fifty for two glasses of wine?"

"Each."

"Ahhh, do you have something more...? Like a drink that doesn't require me to sell a kidney?"

"What is your budget, sir?"

"Probably less."

"Bottled water?"

"Sure."

"That would be a hundred dollar for two bottles, sir."

"Jesus, I didn't ask to pay your water bill, just a bottle."

"I would like to point out, sir, that all of tonight's revenues will go to financing the shelter for women at risk."

Kevin sighed and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. "It's really hard sometimes to do the good thing. That's my lunch budget for three weeks." He sipped the water from the wine glass and clinked it with Sharon's. "You said you wanted me to meet someone?"

"See that tall Justin Bieber lookalike, talking with that brunette over there? That's Rob Fulton."

"Arctic Banana's drummer? He's your ex, right? Want me to meet him?"

"Fuck no! Quick, he's looking our way." She grabbed Kevin's neck and pulled him for a deep French kiss. Her tongue entered his mouth and ran circles around his. They were both flushed when she pulled out, Sharon from excitement and Kevin due to embarrassment.

"What? Don't look at me like that. I just wanted to give the son of a bitch something to think about."

"Jesus, Sharon, we've been through that. And now I have a girlfriend, so—"

"Helen? She's way too old for you."

"First, she's not too old, she's twenty-nine, not sixty-nine, and second, she's not my girlfriend."

"Does she know?"

"That she's not my girlfriend?"

"Because she's head over heels for you."

Kevin waved his hand in dismissal. "Fuck off. We're good friends."

"Yeah? If life were a Disney movie, she would have pink hearts circling her head and in her eyes right now."

"Based on what?"

"Based on the fact that I'm a woman, and I saw how she looks at you."

"Bullshit!"

"It's not so hard to figure out," Sharon smirked. "Does she try to spend as much time with you as she can?"

"She doesn't have many friends. What? I like spending time with her too."

"Aha! Does Helen go the extra mile to dress nicely when you're around? Does she laugh at your stupid jokes?"

"My jokes are awesome, that's why she laughs."

"Aha! Is Helen dating anyone right now? Because she's a stunner, even with the eyepatch. It's not like she'd have any problem picking up guys."

"She's very insecure."

"You're an idiot, Kev. She doesn't date anyone because she has her sights set on you, hard. She's not emotionally available to other guys."

"Emotionally what?"

"Available." Sharon shrugged. "Wanna dance?"

"Maybe later, I feel bad now for ditching her for so long. That was a dick move. I came tonight only because she needed my support. See ya sometime." He left Sharon at the bar and went to find Helen. He saw her at the other side of the hall talking to a tall, elderly woman. Helen's body language told him she was not enjoying the conversation. Her face lit up when she saw him, and she excused herself.

"Hey, there you are."

"Yep."

"Had fun with my boss's daughter?"

"She's more than I can handle. I mean, she's just as spoilt as Diana, only she has unlimited access to money, and everyone on YouTube and Twitter keeps telling her how hot she is. Her ego is the size of Nevada. Scary."

Helen laughed.

"Wanna dance?" Kevin said.

"I don't dance."

"Why not?"

"I don't dance!"

"Is it because my head reaches your chin?"

"Yeah, nailed it. You're too short, Kevin."

Kevin made a Bronx cheer. "If I had a dollar for every girl who told me, 'You're too short, but I'll sleep with you anyway,' I would have lots of fifty cents coins right now."

Helen laughed at Kevin's stupid joke. "I don't qualify to dance."

"You've got limbs, that's enough qualification."

"I can't dance."

"You couldn't dive a month ago either. Come on, you think any of these monkeys in suits knows how to dance?"

"Most of them are my colleagues, Kev."

"Most of them are clueless. None of them look as hot as you."

She smiled, gave him her hand, and he pulled her after him to a more secluded area on the dance floor. The band played salsa, not too fast, not too slow. Kevin placed his right on her hip, held her hand high and showed her how to put her other hand on his shoulder.

"I..."

"Just follow my lead."

Helen saw Sharon's little sister on the dance floor, dancing herself to oblivion with a slim Latino-looking guy. All of her boss's daughters were futanari, even though Carmela didn't manifest the gene. It made her feel a little better about Kevin and herself.

Forward, step, step, back, step, step. Kevin started a simple rhythm, and Helen did her best to follow. She glanced sideways at the people around her. Any minute they might notice the alien amongst them who couldn't move.

"Hey, relax, look at me."

She missed a step and almost stumbled, but Kevin steadied her and winked. Helen laughed.

Forward, step, step, back, step, step.

Little by little her breathing slowed and her jaw, which had unconsciously clenched, relaxed. All around her, people were focused on their own small worlds. She felt silly and concentrated on synchronizing her movements with the man holding her.

Forward, step, step, back, step, step.

"See? Easy!" Kevin spun her around. "And fun."

It really wasn't hard, and Helen wondered why the hell she'd never tried it before. It was fun. She had always been an athlete and like most athletes had good control over her body. Kevin's warm hand holding hers felt good, and so did his hand on her hip.

Forward, step, step, back, step, step.

"That older woman you were talking to?" he said.

"Suzan Owens?"

"Yeah, who is she?" Kevin said.

"A stockholder. She sits on the board. Why?"

"I could swear I recognize her voice from somewhere, but I can't exactly place it. Weird." Kevin shrugged. "Okay, you've got the basics, let's go extra." His hand left her hip and took her hand off his shoulder. He pulled her body closer and tried to tilt her. Helen pushed back when she was supposed to relax. She lost her balance, decided to use Kevin's body as a counterweight, and then the laws of physics gave her the middle finger. They crashed together against the elevated stage.

For a few seconds, Helen was on top of him, her body against his, feeling him squirming against her. He was laughing. Helen had forced herself a long time ago to stop her daydreaming about him. She thought it was immoral to have these thoughts about a friend who cared about her so much, even if her fantasies remained confined to her skull. She abolished them, and they sneaked into her wet dreams.

Helen felt herself harden, and she pulled back, alarmed.

"Sorry," Kevin laughed. "That was massively stupid."

The traitor between her legs didn't think it was stupid. It acted like a dog that had just been asked, 'Who wants to go out?' It practically wagged. Helen felt herself grow and was grateful for the low lighting. "I'm sorry, I need..." She ran on her gazelle legs through the crowd, made her way to the nearest toilets, and locked herself in a booth, breathing hard.

She waited for her pulse to slow and the Judas to grow soft, but the bastard had a brain of its own. Feeling disgusted with herself, she stumbled out to the back of the hall. Helen found an empty balcony that was facing the city instead of the bay. Millions of lights caused the dense mass of skyscrapers to glitter. Below her, the streets were like veins of red, white, and blue. Her body finally relaxed in the cold air.

The orchestra stopped playing, and the people left the dance floor. Dinner was about to be served.

She checked her mobile for messages because now she felt sorry about bailing. She saw she missed a WhatsApp from Jack, the divemaster from the club and Kevin's assistant.

"Hey, there you are." Kevin stepped out from the hall. "Why did you run off?"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who should be sorry. That was good enough to be a YouTube Fail video."

"Ouch."

He did a spin and a half salsa step. "But nobody saw us crashing like idiots, so no harm was done. I'm still cool. You're texting me?"

She pretended to look at the blinking lights below; it was easier than looking into his purple eyes. "I'm texting Jack; he just asked me out on a date."

"Fuck yeah, high five!"

"I told him 'Thanks, but not at the moment.'"

"What? Why? He's a great guy. He's studying to be an architect, and he's got his own gig selling belts online. Diving is just a hobby."

"Still."

Kevin spread his arms. "You're not getting married, Helen, it's just a date. Go have some fun, for fuck's sake!"

"You saw what happened with Dennis."

"Dennis was a total tool. Jack is one of the good guys."

"I'm awkward around other people. I always feel like they're judging me because I'm a futanari and because..." She pointed at her eyepatch. "I never know what to do. Whatever I say, I feel like I'm embarrassing myself. I always end up acting like a cold bitch or a total fool."

"That's bullshit, Helen. Just be yourself, and you'll do fine."

"Be me?"

"I know it sounds corny, but it's good advice. Be yourself."

"Because I intend to show up with a painted mustache and tell him that I'm Hitler?"

"Just show him how smart and funny and loving you are, or you can show him your boobs. Guys aren't that complicated."

"Guys can be complex."

Kevin shook his head. "We only have two states: horny and hungry. If a guy doesn't have an erection, just buy him a hotdog or something."

Helen gave a short laugh. "Hotdog, and personality doesn't count, boobs do. Great advice, Kev."

"Personality counts, but mostly when you're naked."

"Wait, I wanna write it down."

Kevin shook his head again. "You're overthinking everything. Just do what you always do—be yourself. Once you let people inside, even a little bit, it's impossible not to like you. Give Jack a call, come on! Be a sport!"

"No."

"You don't like him?"

"I do; Jack is cute, and I'm not just saying it because he's your friend. It's...It's not that. I just feel that if I want to date someone, I should be giving him my full undivided attention. I can't do that right now, and it's unfair because he really sounds like a great guy. I don't feel I'm emotionally available."

"So if not Jack, try someone else- I mean, what, wait, wait, what? What did you say? Emotionally what?"

The orchestra started playing again, beginning with bass and slow cello. The lead singer joined, singing a soft, sad melody.

"Over a single sane moment, I could see the sorrow ships,

They sank beneath a deep blue of little hopes and wine."

Helen turned to him with a faint smile. "What? I'm not... I don't want to date anyone, Kevin." She turned back to the city.

"Over a single sane moment, I could see angels in the city skyline,

And my, oh my, God was on our side."

Over a single sane moment, Kevin finally could see what everyone else, including Diana, already knew, and his heart overflowed. He stared at her, mouth agape and eyes round with shock.

The human heart is a puzzle made of life pieces.

The pieces synchronized. Aligned, sharp edges gone, borders fused, and it became impossible to tell where one person ended and the other began.

Helen had never looked as beautiful as he saw her that night under the city moonlight. Helen, the girl with the eyepatch and the deep scar that crossed her cheek all the way to her broken heart. Helen, born to a tragedy because no one was going to kidnap her to Troy, certainly not Kevin.

Because when the borders of delusion touched the frame of reality, Kevin suddenly remembered who he was, and who his real girlfriend was.

"I like the view from up here," Helen said. "The city. You can't see the ugliness when it's dark. It's so beautiful."

"Mesmerizing." Kevin was staring at her. "I wish she could be mine and I could be hers."

"What? The entire city?"

Kevin didn't answer.

*****

To be continued...

You know the drill. I sweat and write the story, you leisurely punch the stars and show me love/or hate. Yep, I'm an attention whore. No, seriously, I write stories, so people would read them not out of an artistic zeal.

More than a few rants, questions, recommendations, others, have accumulated in the postback/comments section. So, I'll start using the comments to answer, argue and rant right back at you.

Chapter 9 is being edited as we speak, yep. Chapter 10 is a work in progress.