Race was late. He knew he was late. He knew he should have left twenty minutes ago, but he couldn't bring himself to stop playing with the kitten long enough to properly get ready for work and now he was running late. Katherine was going to have his head, that was for certain. He wasn't usually late like this, at least not quite this late. Sure, he had been late in the past one or two times. Okay, maybe three or four times . . . or at least five times but never late like this. Never almost half an hour late. He was going to have to come up with some excuse like there was an accident on the way or he couldn't find his house key or something. Yes, Katherine was going to kill him. He was a dead man walking all because he was freaking late.
He ran from the bus stop to the shop, hefting his bag over his shoulders and huffing and puffing as he weaved his way through other pedestrians, pushing through as politely as he could, which in his state of being wasn't very polite at all. When he finally got to the shop he burst through the doors, ready to rush to the back and put on his apron and clock in, but when he entered the shop he immediately stopped, taken aback by the scene playing out in front of him.
Spot was arguing with a customer, a tall man in a hat, who's face Race couldn't see. He was standing at the register, trying to talk to Jack, but Jack just stood there, hands over his ears and shouting at the man to get out. He looked to be trembling, and it only took a moment for Race to figure out who the man was.
Spot was in the man's face, threating to call the cops if he didn't leave the shop immediately. Other customers were staring at the scene in shock, all whispering to themselves and gasping at the events playing out before them. A few moments later Katherine and Davey came out the back, joining Spot and threatening for the man to leave before they called the authorities on him. Just when Race thought it couldn't get any worse the man shoved Spot, and that was the end of it. Spot grabbed him by the arm and began 'ushering' the man outside, Race stepping out of the way.
"And don't come back!" Spot shouted, slamming the door shut behind him. He turned back to Davey and Katherine. "Call the cops," he said. "We can charge him for getting violent."
Davey nodded and immediately went to the back. Everyone in the shop was still staring in shock around each other, all whispering and pointing fingers at the stunned barista behind the counter. Katherine made eye contact with Race and frowned, obviously irritated with him but not saying anything just yet. Instead she made her rounds around the shop, talking with each customer and assuring them everything was alright, offering to give them half priced drinks as compensation for having to endure that altercation.
Spot looked over at Race, a sour look still on his face. "Where the hell have you been?" he whispered.
"I got caught up in traffic," Race lied quietly. "What the hell happened here?"
"All hell broke loose that's what," Spot answered, turning his attention towards Jack, who was still standing stock still behind the register, hands still covering his ears and face turned towards the ground. He looked white as a sheet. Katherine had gone over and was quietly trying to talk to him, but he wasn't responding, as if he couldn't even hear her.
Race stepped up to the counter, and Katherine turned on him. "You're late," she hissed, glaring up at him.
"Got caught in traffic," Race explained quickly. "It won't happen again."
"Swell day for you to be late," Katherine said sarcastically. She turned back to Jack. "Jack, I need you to look at me, alright?"
Jack didn't respond, his eyes tightly shut. He still seemed to be trembling slightly, and his hands gripped over his hears tightly.
"I don't know what's wrong," Katherine whispered, looking up at Race as if he had some explanation.
"I do," Race said knowingly. He walked over behind the counter and came around to Jack's side, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. Jack flinched and Race immediately pulled his hand away. "Hey Jack," Race said softly. "Let's get out of this room, alright? Let's go talk."
Jack made no move, and Race carefully again put a hand on his shoulder. Jack flinched once more, but this time Race didn't remove his hand, instead gently nudging him to the side. Slowly, Jack started to move, taking a few steps in the direction Race guided him in, Race a couple of steps ahead. Together, they made their way out of the room and walked to the back hallway, stepping into the storage room and Race closing the door behind them.
"Let's sit down, okay?" Race said, helping Jack sit on the floor, Race taking a seat beside him. They both sat in silence for a moment, Jack still holding his hands to the side of his face and looking down at his feet.
"You, uh, wanna talk about it?" Race asked, patting Jack's shoulder reassuringly.
"I don't know what's going on," Jack whispered, his voice trembling slightly.
"Looks to me like you'se having an anxiety attack or panic attack or whatever the right name for them is," Race said. "I get them sometimes. It'll pass."
"When?" Jack asked, still not looking up at him.
"Give it a few minutes," Race said. "How's your breathing?"
"Hard," Jack answered, and Race just noticed that he seemed to be breathing too quickly.
"Alright, first thing's first, let's slow down your breathing," Race said. "Breathe in and count to seven, then breathe out and count to nine. Try it with me, okay?"
Jack nodded, doing as he was told and breathing with Race, counting to seven on the inhale and counting to nine on the exhale.
"Good," Race said. "This'll help you start to calm down."
Jack nodded, and they both just continued breathing for a few minutes, Jack's heart rate finally beginning to slow.
"Alright, can you look up at me now?" Race asked, hand still on Jack's shoulder.
Jack shook his head, still looking down at his feet.
"That's okay, you don't have to," Race said. "Let's just sit here quiet for a minute, alright, or do you wanna talk?"
Jack was silent for a minute. "Quiet sounds good," he said.
Race nodded in understanding. He didn't speak, allowing the silence to take over. Jack had finally stopped trembling, but he still didn't look up, slowly massaging the sides of his head with his hands.
They sat in silence for several minutes, Race never removing his hand from Jack's shoulder. He wanted him to know he was still there, to help ground him. After what felt like several minutes, Jack finally looked back up, meeting Race's eyes for the first time that day.
"How ya doing, buddy?" Race asked kindly, rubbing Jack's shoulder.
Jack rubbed his hands over his face, sighing deeply. "Fine," he breathed.
"Good," Race said. "Jack, what happened out there?"
Jack shrugged. "He just showed up out of nowhere," he explained. "I was making a drink and the next thing I know he was standing there and I . . . I panicked."
"What was he even doing here?" Race asked, confused.
"He said he wanted to talk," Jack said. "I know it's about the money left from mom. It was going to him cause I was technically a dependent but now that I'se not it's supposed to go to me, especially since I turned twenty-one. I don't know, he probably wants me to come back to living with him or something so he can still get the checks."
"You wouldn't, would you?" Race asked.
Jack shook his head. "Course not," he answered. "But, honestly? If I had let him ask me, I don't know how easily I could have said no."
"Why do you think that is?" Race asked, curious.
Jack shrugged. "Not that good at saying no to him," he admitted.
"Because you feel like you don't have that option," Race guessed. "Because you'se not allowed to say no?"
Jack looked at him. "Yeah, how did you-?"
"I know the feeling," Race explained. "I'se been there before."
"With that guy, Josiah?" Jack asked, his voice growing quieter.
Race nodded. "Yeah," he answered. "He'd have me do things I didn't want to do, and convince me that I did. I didn't know I could say no, cause we was a thing and you'se supposed to make your partner happy and all that. I thought I was making myself happy too when in fact I was making myself miserable, until one day I finally ran. And I'se guessing it's the same way with you and Snyder. You feel like you can't say no to him cause he was the closest thing you got to a dad, and he probably convinced you along the way that you didn't have the right to tell him no, am I right?"
Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah," he agreed. "Something like that."
They were both quiet a minute before Jack looked back at Race. "Did he . . . did he ever hurt you too?" he asked.
Race shrugged. "Not in the same way Snyder did ya, but yeah, I guess you could say he did."
"I'se sorry," Jack said sincerely. "I didn't know."
"Hell, I didn't know until after the fact," Race said. "I had no idea what was happening was wrong. Had no way of knowing. It's not like they taught us this stuff in high school."
Jack nodded. "I'se glad you got out," he said.
"I'se glad you got out too," Race agreed. "Now, I gotta ask. This whole episode, has anything like this happened before? Where it felt like you couldn't breathe or move?"
Jack nodded. "It's happened a couple of times," he admitted. "Usually in the aftermath of something."
"Maybe it wouldn't hurt to talk to someone about this," Race suggested. "You know, someone who's not me or Katherine or one of the guys."
Jack gave him a quizzical look. "Talk to someone?" he asked.
"Yeah, you know, a professional," Race said. "Someone who can help you figure out how to cope with everything that's happened."
Jack leaned back. "I don't know," he said, scratching his head. "Doesn't sound very ideal to me."
"You know, I see someone, right?" Race asked. "Every week, I go and talk to someone about my anxiety. And hey, guess what? It helps. Now, don't go around telling people that, I'se only ever told you and Spot."
Jack looked at him, a little surprised. "You do?" he asked.
"Sure, been going for about a year now," Race said. "Even found a place that I can afford. If you like, I can give you their contact info?"
Jack thought about it for a moment. "Maybe," he said. "Just, if I do, don't tell anyone, especially Crutchie."
Race mimed zipping his lips shut. "That's for you to tell, not me."
Jack smiled. "Thanks, Race."
"No problem," Race said. "Now, if you'se feeling better, we should probably get out of this closet and go help Katherine out front. I'se already late getting in today."
Jack laughed. "Yeah, we was wondering what happened to ya," he said, getting to his feet.
They walked back out front where Katherine was holding down the fort, rushing back and forth taking drink orders and giving customers back correct change. When she saw Race and Jack approach a smile of relief broke out over her face.
"Race, take the register," she commanded. "Jack, I need your help on drinks."
Jack nodded, grabbing a cup and preparing the next drink order.
The atmosphere was clearly tense; Katherine didn't go back to the office once the rest of the shift, and Jack couldn't help but notice Davey and Spot eyeing him every time one of them stepped into the cafe portion of the shop. He had really made a scene, hadn't he? Maybe Race was right; maybe talking to someone wouldn't be so bad after all. If it meant not having another one of those breakdowns like earlier, or at least helping to prevent them, then it might be worth the trouble.
The rest of the day went by smoothly until closing, every last customer heading out so that the employees could clean up and close the shop. Katherine was taking inventory, while Davey and Spot cleaned tables.
"Don't forget, we got the open mic night tomorrow night, so I want this place looking spiff clean, alright?" Davey said, throwing a rag over his shoulder and moving onto the next table.
"Should I mop up tonight?" Spot asked, finishing up with his own tables.
"Yeah, sounds good," Davey said. "Race, help him out with that."
"Yes, sir," Race said, going to the back to grab a couple of mops and buckets.
"Doing anything this month, Davey?" Jack asked, mostly joking.
"Like I said last month, and the month before that, and the month before that, and every month before that, no," Davey answered.
"You know, you could always join Spot on his famous rants," Jack suggested. "I'se sure you'd do great at it."
"Sorry, but that's my time and ain't no one taking no part in it," Spot argued.
"I still can't believe the people love those," Katherine muttered. "You're literally just standing on stage ranting for five minutes about something completely random and unimportant."
"The people think it's a comedy bit, that's why they enjoy it," Race explained, coming back into the room with the mops and buckets.
"Just try and keep your language clean this time, alright Spot?" Davey said. "You know, occasionally kids like Les come into this place, more often than you think."
"Yeah, yeah," Spot said, waving his hand at him dismissively.
"Alright, I gotta head out. Parents need me to stop by home real quick," Davey said, tossing his rag to Jack. "I'll see you guys bright and early in the morning."
"Have a safe drive home," Katherine called after him. "I'll be heading out too. You boys finish in here, and I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," Jack said, waving goodbye and Katherine made her way out of the shop.
"Hey, Jack," Spot said once she had left. "You good?"
Jack nodded. "Yeah, I'se good," he answered.
"You had me worried earlier today," Spot told him. "Don't do that to me again, alright?"
Jack nodded. "Whatever you say, Spot."
Spot clapped him on the shoulder, pleased with his answer. "Hey, not tomorrow but the next night how's about you and Davey and I go out for some drinks? On us. Bit of a late birthday gift, what do you say?"
"You both already gave me a birthday gift," Jack pointed out.
"Then consider it just a random act of kindness, I don't know," Spot said. "Do you wanna or not?"
"Sure, that sounds great," Jack said.
"I wanna go," Race complained.
"We'll take you out when you turn twenty-one, how's about it?" Spot said.
"I wanna go now," Race grumbled.
"You can go when you'se old enough," Spot told him. "Right now you'se too young, and we ain't going to jail or nothing."
Race frowned but didn't argue further, instead focusing on his mopping.
"Hey Spot," Jack said, finishing up wiping down the counter. "I just wanna say, thanks for taking care of the situation earlier."
Spot nodded. "Did what needed to be done," he said simply.
"Did ya ever call the cops like you was saying?" Race asked, curious.
"Yeah, we called 'em," Spot said. "But other than taking a few statements and getting them his address there wasn't much we could do. The most that'll probably happen is they'll take a visit by his place, question him about the situation, and maybe giving him a fine, I don't know."
"It ain't too late to bring up the other stuff," Race said.
"No," Jack said. "There's no point in bringing it up now."
"No, Race is right," Spot said. "They guy's violent. He could go away for some years if the cops knew everything he did."
"It ain't worth it," Jack said. "Just drop it."
Spot shrugged. "Whatever you say, Kelly."
When they finished cleaning, the three locked up and headed home, taking the drive in relative silence. Jack could feel something building in his chest again like before. What had Race called it? Anxiety? He tried to ignore it. There was no sense in him having it now. It was over, it was all over. And unless Snyder tried to contact him again he should never have to deal with this anymore.
But if that were the case, why did he still feel this way?