"Guess who," Alex said, walking through the front door with an extra spring in her step.
"Someone who's late for dinner?" Stef's voice called back.
"True, but I was kind of looking for a different answer," she replied, now making her way through the living room.
"Alex?" Jude guessed.
"Also right, but again, kind of looking for another answer here," Alex said, now outside the kitchen where everyone was gathered around the table, eating helpings of salad and portions of grilled chicken.
"I don't know, just tell us," Jesus said, his voice muffled by a mouthful of food.
Alex stepped into the kitchen, making her grand entrance and smiling. "You, my friends, are looking at the newest employee of Anchor Beach's finest diner establishment."
"You got a job?" Callie asked.
"I got a job," Alex confirmed, still not able to wipe the smile off her face. For once it actually felt like she was doing something right, and from the expressions of those at the table, it looked like the general consensus was that other people felt like she was doing something right too.
"Honey, that's wonderful," Lena said, motioning to the empty chair beside her. "Here, sit down, tell us more," she said, pulling it out and patting the seat.
"Well, what do you want know?" she asked, happily taking the seat Lena offered.
"Do we get free food?" Jesus asked seriously, looking up from his plate for the first time since he'd sat down.
Alex laughed. "I don't know, I'll have to ask the manager. But a discount probably? I mean I'd assume," she shrugged.
"Sweet, works for me," he said with a head-nod, returning his attention to his dinner.
"What's the dress code like?" Mariana asked.
"There's a uniform."
"Oh god, is it bad?" Mariana asked, placing a hand on her chest and closing her eyes, bracing for the impact.
Alex sucked a breath in through her teeth. "There's a skirt and apron involved."
Mariana slit one eye open. "That has the potential to not be completely horrible…go on…"
"It's got ruffles. A lot of ruffles," Alex admitted.
"No!" Mariana replied, her eyes shooting open. "Ugh, why?"
"It's like an on-the-beach diner thing; they want it to be quaint and festive. It fits the sailing theme."
"You're going to look like a total dork," Mariana said, rolling her eyes.
"Hey," Lena chastised.
"I know, I'm going to look completely stupid," she agreed without offense. "But it's a job. Plus, you can help me accessorize so I can keep the idiocy to a minimum."
Mariana considered this for a moment before nodding slowly. "I guess I could do that."
"Good. Next question?"
"Hours?" Stef asked.
"Shitty," Alex replied, deadpan.
"What about pay?" Lena inquired.
"Even shittier."
"Keep it up and your entire first paycheck is going in the swear jar," Stef admonished, giving her a look at her below-satisfactory answers.
"We have a swear jar?" Brandon piped up.
Stef walked over to the cabinet, grabbing an empty canning jar and plopping it onto the counter. "We do now. Dollar a piece."
"A whole dollar? That's hella harsh," Mariana commented.
"Really?" Stef asked, not amused, while the rest of the table stifled a laugh. "Hand it over," she demanded, sticking out her palm.
Mariana smirked, pulling a dollar bill from her pocket. "Totally worth it."
"What happens when the jar's full? Which by the looks of it might happen tonight," Callie asked cheekily.
"Then we'll donate it," Stef replied, placing the jar on the counter and retaking her seat.
"To where?" Jude asked innocently.
"To you, Jude," Lena said, placing her hand over his. "Because you're the only child we actually like."
"Whoa, that's hella rude," Brandon said, already removing his wallet and handing Stef a crumpled bill. "Oh shoot, the smallest I have is a five."
"That's hella too bad," Callie said. "There, you can pay for me too. Now you're only three dollars over," Callie smirked.
"You are all making a mockery of the swear jar, and I command you to stop," Stef said with faux-seriousness, crossing her arms.
"Damn, we're sorry," Alex said, prompting a look from Stef and her hand shooting towards her to collect reparation.
"Brandon's got me covered on this one. Right Brandon? All right, two more swears and your full five dollars is used up," Alex said. "Who's gonna take it?"
"No one is going to take it!" Lena exclaimed, causing the table to go silent. "No one is going to use it unless you want the fine to go up to ten dollar a pop. How about that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Anybody want to say anything now?" she asked, pursing her lips, daring anyone to accept the challenge.
Stef cleared her throat. "Well," she said solemnly, "I guess that ends this installment of Foster Dinner Theatre. Everybody finished? Yes? Okay good, plates in the sink. Alex, why don't you hang back, help me do the dishes," she said seriously, taking charge. "The dishes are hella dirty," she said, straight-faced, stifling a laugh while the rest of the table couldn't contain theirs.
Lena's eyes shot towards her wife, whose mouth was threatening to quiver into a smile. Lena sighed and simply placed a hand on Jude's shoulder.
"They keep it up at this rate and you're going to have enough to pay for college by the end of the month."
"So tell me, what are the hours and the pay? Preferably in more than one expletive," Stef asked, turning on the sink and picking up a plate after the kitchen had cleared out.
"I'll probably work mostly morning shifts, four or five days a week for about seven to eight hours at a time."
"Hey, that's not bad. What's the pay?"
"Minimum. Bare minimum. Lowest legal wage."
"Ouch," Stef replied, rinsing off a fork. "Oh, I remember those days," Stef said, chuckling a little.
Alex laughed with her, "and the early shift starts at five," she said, a good-natured pained look on her face.
"Oh, even more ouch," Stef replied, throwing her head back.
"But it's a job," Alex pointed out.
"It is," Stef agreed. "And Lena and I are proud of you for it. It shows some real responsibility and maturity and those are two big steps to gaining our trust."
Alex smiled, towel-drying a recently rinsed cup. "Thanks."
The two were taken over by a silence, though unlike most times regarding the couple, it wasn't awkward. It felt almost…normal, the relationship having gotten to the point of doing mundane household chores side-by-side without a lot of tension. Alex had grown fond of the banter-like relationship that had been building up, and so she didn't want to keep it silent. She was finally starting to feel a little comfortable, like she could get used to this, so she made the decision to test the waters a bit. To open herself up just the tiniest bit by offering some information that wasn't being pried out of her.
"You remember that story about the tattoo I told you?" she asked. "Symbol of freedom and uniqueness, all that shit?"
"For the hundredth time, watch your mouth, but yes," Stef said with half-hearted reprimand.
"I didn't lie to you," Alex replied defensively, playfully holding up her hand. "Not really, at least. It is a symbol, just of something else," she said mysteriously.
"What do you mean?" Stef asked casually, intrigued.
"Irony, I guess," she shrugged, momentarily pausing mid-wash, trying to figure out what to say. "I got the tattoo to cover up a scar," she said, going back to washing.
However, this revelation had an adverse effect on Stef, who now stopped her rinsing. "I'm listening," she directed her full attention to Alex.
"Wait, what?" she asked in confusion, looking up at Stef, who was staring at her.
"I said I'm listening."
"Listening to what?" she questioned.
"The story," Stef said with a single nod.
"What story? That was the story." Alex responded, growing a little panicked, but trying to cover it by intensively gazing at the sink instead.
"How'd you get the scar?" she tilted her head, not completely oblivious to Alex's nerves, but attempting to remain conversational.
"That's not part of the story," she said quickly, breathing a laugh to try and keep the mood joking and casual, hoping that way Stef would let it go.
"Humor me," she pried, squinting.
"Okay, I, uh, cut it on a piece of glass," she shrugged, frantically drying a plate.
"What, you just play with glass shards in your spare time?" she tried to keep it light, as not to overwhelm her, though the nagging feeling in her stomach forced her to continue with questions instead of letting the topic go.
"Not frequently, no," she laughed, but was holding back tears. It was either laugh or cry and she could not get hysterical. This was not supposed to go this far. She was not supposed to end up here.
"Then what?"
"It was from a broken bottle."
"How the hell did you cut yourself on a broken bottle?" Stef asked. And there it was: the straw that finally broke the camel's back. Alex grew silent at the question, looking down at the water-filled sink, her eyes fixated on the soapy suds.
"Alex?" she repeated more softly, but still with authority. "How'd you get the cut?" She tipped her head so that it would land in front of Alex's gaze, forcing her to at least acknowledge her.
"Fighting with my mom," she admitted quietly, looking down at her hands.
"So you didn't cut yourself on it," she stated, standing up straighter, her back stiffening. Her jaw was clenched, her fists were tightened. She was pissed.
"I guess not technically, but I did break a rule. She was just mad. It was an accident," Alex shook her head defensively.
"What rule?" Stef crossed her arms.
"I don't even remember. I mouthed off or something and she got angry and she just happened to be drinking at the time. I don't know, one minute she was holding the bottle and the next minute she wasn't, all right?" Alex shrugged, picking up a plate.
"Because it was coming towards you?" she asked, adopting a softer tone.
"I don't want to talk about this, okay?" Alex responded, trying to sound firm, though her cracking voice betrayed her as she harshly dropped the plate back in the sink.
"Honey," Stef said gently, reaching out to rub her arm.
"I'm serious," Alex said, ripping her arm away. "Can you please just drop it?"
Stef stood there, too shocked at the defensiveness and reaction to reach out or speak up again.
"I shouldn't have even brought it up," Alex said, sloppily swiping her arm across her face, wiping her running nose and eyes on her sleeve.
Stef finally picked up a bowl, her gaze not leaving Alex's. "You can always bring things up."
"Well not if I'm going to be interrogated about them," she snapped, vigorously scrubbing another plate.
After a few moments of silent washing, Stef spoke up to apologize. "I'm sorry I pushed you."
"It's fine," she answered quickly, though her tone suggested it was anything but fine, as did her rigid posture.
"Can I just say one thing?" Stef ventured to ask.
Alex cast her a harsh glare. She wasn't in the mood for any lectures or talking.
"Just one second is all I ask," Stef put her hands up in defense. "You don't even have to talk, just listen."
"Fine, shoot," Alex said dully.
"It's a fact of life that you're going to get hurt," she began. "Some way, some how, no one makes it out of life unscathed. And sometimes you screw up, and that's the reason why you get hurt. It's gonna happen. There are times when you're just going to really mess up and then learn from your mistakes and move on. We can agree on that, yes?" Stef asked, trying to keep Alex engaged in the conversation.
"Yeah," she nodded, her voice passive. Her mind was elsewhere, and she didn't need another lecture about responsibility right now.
"But you know what? Sometimes other people hurt you, and it's not your fault at all. Sometimes it's their fault and they take their problems out on you, and it's not fair, but they do it. Because those people, they want to make you feel like it's your fault, because it makes them feel better about themselves," Stef said softly. Alex was listening more intently now, a reaction being drawn out of her. She was biting down on her lip and sniffling every so often, avoiding Stef's gaze, her eyes darting around the room.
"But you shouldn't let them convince you, because by accepting blame where blame doesn't belong helps them win. That guilt they make you feel gives them power over you. And that way they can keep hurting you far after the scar is covered and the bruises are faded," she said, causing Alex to choke back a whimper. "Does that make sense?" she asked quietly.
Alex nodded, quickly wiping a second, heavier round of tears away. She cleared her throat, but only spoke when she was sure her voice wouldn't betray her. "Look, I have stuff I have to do so…"
"Go do your stuff," Stef replied, holding back a sigh.
She didn't want to let her leave. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around her and whisper comforting words, but she knew that would do more harm than good. So instead she compromised with herself, simply squeezing her shoulder as she left the room and walked up stairs, the gesture bringing on a whole new wave of tears.
Tears she'd only cry in the painful safety of loneliness.
Some laughter, some tears, and some swearing. How did you like this chapter? Are you enjoying the blossoming relationship between Stef and Alex? They've come pretty far, but they still have quite a ways to go, don't you think? And do you think it will continue to grow with smooth sailing or face some setbacks? Let me know what you thought! I always love and appreciate any and all of your feedback.
Thanks Liz and Grace. You're the bombs.