17 - Dinner

Sal sighed and sat herself on Robin's bed. With a wave, she called Robin to take a seat.

"I'm sorry about your friend," she said.

Robin smiled. "Yeah. I am too."

"Do you mind telling me a little bit about her?"

"Um..."

"You don't have to tell me what you don't want to," Sal said, crossing her legs.

"Erin's ten - ten and a half," she corrected herself. "She has crazy red hair and it's so pretty." Robin managed a smile in place of a sob.

"She sounds like a really cute kid."

"Yeah, she is."

Robin petted Serafina, the faux glittery fur passed through her fingers. Staring down at her hand, she flinched when a drop plucked it. She wiped it on her shorts.

"Hey, hey," Sal whispered.

Robin wouldn't let her eyes return to Sal's.

"I didn't mean to make you upset."

"No, I'm fine."

"No, Robin, you're not."

"I am. Look. See, I'm fine." Robin met her friend's eyes. Though they weren't red, Robin had to force the tears away with all her might.

"I'm not an idiot. I know I have my moments of it - a lot of moments - but I'm not always one." She laughed as she picked up Robin's hands and sandwiched them.

"I never said you were an idiot."

"I know that you're hurting and from the way you act all trying to be strong and all, you like to bottle stuff up."

"Sal-"

"Let me finish."

Silence passed between them, but Robin nodded eventually.

"I also know from the look on your face you've been told what I'm telling you now."

Averting her gaze, Robin bowed her head.

"I'm your friend, Robin. You can tell me stuff and it never has to leave the walls of wherever we are. You can trust me."

Trust. That word made everything fall apart. All her life she wanted to trust. Trust in Santa, trust her parents, trust in God, trust here and there. Robin gave it out quick as a whip just to believe that something greater was out there. But every time she trusted, she was let down. Santa was a myth, he never existed after age eight. God. Her parents, they were supposed to be the ones she could look up to, but they lived lives filled of lies, betrayal, and secrecy. And God. She was between fury and complete despair. He was supposed to save her when her father pushed her down, but He didn't come. He refused to take her mind away from the pain those days she laid on the floor in agony after her punishment. He was the last person she wanted to trust. The worst part was, He still hadn't taken her away.

"Robin? You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Your eyes are red."

"I'm fine, okay."

"Robin-"

"Dammit, Sal, stop it." Robin registered her words. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I've never heard you cuss before," Sal said with surprise.

Robin's cheeks flushed. "I don't like to make it a habit."

"That's fair."

The chat stalled.

"I'm starving."

Locking eyes with Sal, Robin laughed. "That was random."

"Well, not really. I mean, I think I smell food and I'm so freaking hungry!" Her stomach rumbled on cue. "Ya hear that? See!"

"Yeah, I heard."

"Robin, Sal!" Mrs Simms's shouted. "Please come downstairs. Dinner's ready."

"I guess I gotta go." Sal gave a lopsided smile as she and Robin climbed down.

Mrs Simms was still there. "If your parents are okay with it, we'd love to have you as our guest?"

"Are you sure, Mrs Simms? I don't want to impose."

"Don't worry about it, love. Just give your parents a ring and come tell me. I'll be in the dining room setting the table."

"I should go help," Robin said. Leaving Sal at the banister, Robin and Mrs Simms grabbed plates and set them down.

"So, what did you girls talk about?"

"Nothing much."

"Right."

Robin wanted to glare at Mrs Simms, but she didn't. She had given the woman an answer amounting to nothing, so the woman was justified.

"Mrs Simms, my mother said I could stay! She just asked that I be home by, at the latest, seven."

"That shouldn't be much of an issue."

"Good!" Sal smiled wide, her teeth showing.

Mrs Simms called the rest of the family.

After grace, Sal, Robin and the Simms dug into the roast beef.

"So, Sal. Why don't you tell us a bit more about yourself. You go to Tyler's school isn't that correct?"

"Yes, Mr Simms. Tyler and I are in the same grade. We only have...one class together?"

Tyler nodded and continued chewing.

"Anyway, my parents want to keep me here to take care of the café, but I just don't see myself staying here and running the business.

"What do you plan to do once you get into a university?" Mrs Simms asked.

"Study law," Tyler answered for her through a mouthful.

Sal straightened and offered her own reply, "I am looking into going for criminal law after a year or two after I graduate from high school.

"Criminal law as in defending the alleged guilty guys?" Patrick perked up.

"Yes."

"What made you want to study that?" Mr Simms asked.

"Well, my parents could really use the money, and I've always believed that even though someone looks guilty, it doesn't mean they actually are. Plus, everyone deserves the right to counsel, but I don't see myself keen on defending the really twisted..." she paused and looked toward Patrick. "Bad people," Sal concluded.

Me Simms nodded with a look of understanding.

"So, where do you plan to get your degree then?" Mrs Simms asked.

"Probably University of Michigan. I like the cold and I get some independence. It's only a six hour drive, I think, so I can commute back home for the holidays within a day."

"I heard that was a good school."

"Yeah, I can join their cross country team or rowing."

"You like sports?" Mrs Simms said.

"Eh. I have a love-hate relationship with it. Ha! It's the scheduling and all."

"Oh."

"May I ask, Mr Simms, didn't you take your LSAT?"

He almost dropped his fork. "Yes, I did. How did you know?"

"My mother was in your office a while back. You might not remember, but she had I think some sort of financial stuff, and she had come to you for it. Anyways, she said she saw some awards hanging from the wall. Lawyer stuff."

"How long ago was this? I don't remember her being here."

"Well, it was years ago I think. She's literally the memory brain of my family! Lord know she can beat someone in memory match with her eyes closed!" Sal laughed and her stomach shook. "Yeah, she's sharp as a whip - sharper than me even!"

"That's amazing," Mrs Simms said.

"Robin, you've been awfully quiet," Mr Simms said. "You too Tyler. What's the matter, not feeling good, son?" he teased.

"No, Dad. I'm fine. I'm just letting Sal talk." Tyler shoved another forkful into his mouth.

Mr Simms turned to Robin.

"What Tyler said," she said as she proceeded to hastily put the intensions in her mouth. Robin didn't desire to talk. As far as she was concerned, Sal could have the spotlight all to her gleaming self.

"Uh huh."

"Daddy," Pat said. "May I have more food, please?"

"Sure," Mrs Simms chimed in. "Here, I'll go get it."

"So, Tyler, how was work?"

"Nothing over the top. Same old, same old. Although, there was a girl who came in, and she had seriously long hair!" he said in between eating. "Like, it was down to her bum!"

"Wow! I've always wanted my hair that long, but I'd get annoyed trying to run and all," Sal said.

"My hair was about that long when I was sixteen," Robin said.

"Really?" Tyler replied.

"Yes." Robin ran her hand through her hair. It missed the small of her back by a mere hand length.

"That's so cool!" Sal gushed.

"You know, Kristine's, my wife's, hair used to be about to her hip the first year we dated."

"Pardon? I heard my name," Mrs Simms asked from the kitchen. "Do you need anything?"

"Nothing, love. We're fine."

"Okay."

"Anyway, she got it cut because she joined the swim team and apparently it was too much of a burden to handle, I suppose."

Serving Patrick, Mrs Simms sat down. "What are we talking about?"

"Long hair," Tyler said.

"Oh, I guess you told them about my hair, Keith? That why I heard my name?"

He nodded. "Yes. It was quite lovely. I miss it. Sometimes." He added with a little blush.

"I certainly don't." Mrs Simms chuckled. "It was bothersome. I much prefer my hair at this length, actually even a tad shorter."

Mr Simms nodded again. "Anyway, pictures about the long haired girl. What else happened?"

"Nothing. She was the only customer with something unique-ish."

"Robin, your hair is quite long, do you plan on cutting it soon?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Well, why don't you think about it. I'm going to make an appointment soon, Tyler, you should get a good trim too. Your hair is starting to get long," Mrs Simms said. "I'd love to have you come and meet my stylist. She's a lovely lady and very experienced!"

"Ok, I'll think about it." No promises though.

The room went quiet.

"Sal, how is the café doing? You did say your parents run one."

"Oh, well, business has been booming since the storm. We've even gotten a quarter enough to pay for next month's rent! My parents are thrilled."

"Congratulations!"

"Thanks. We're doing really well."

It silenced again. The rest of the dinner went uneventful. With the exception of a few meaningless conversations.

Robin having finished her meal before everyone else picked at her plate with her fork, lazily drawing random patterns.

"Robin, would you like anymore food?" Mrs Simms got up.

"No thanks. May I be excused? Please?"

Mrs Simms looked to her husband and nodded. "Sal, are you finished with your plate as well?"

"Yes, can I go with Robin?"

"Sure. It's close to Patrick's bedtime, so please keep the noise down?"

"Not a problem, Mrs Simms. We'll be as quiet as mice, you won't even hear us."

Robin and Sal headed up to Robin's room and laid on the bed.

"You know, you can talk to me about anything, and I wouldn't tell anyone," Sal started. "I promise."

"I know, you told me earlier." Robin's arm laid over her forehead. Her eyes were closed.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew."

"Thanks. I know you're there for me."

"Always."

Robin sat up.

"I'll always be there, you just call me and I'll be there as quick as I can to listen." Sal looked at Robin with a small smile.

"Always," Robin said.

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A/N: The story is going to pick up pace. We're done Part I, it's time we get along to the ACTION!! XD

(2) I am dedicating this chapter to BrownEyedGirl65 and her story The Road Goes Where We Go. This paranormal story highlights twelfth century Ireland witches. It is sure not to disappoint. I know it. ;)