Don't look too hard 'cause you won't like the scars he left in me
I've gotten good at making up metaphors
I've gotten good at stretching the truth out of shape
And all these words are sweet and meaningless
You can't trust a single thing I say
Metaphors - The Crane Wives
Fritz tried to get out of going to Captain Raydor's for dinner, but she pushed it until he was getting ready, grumbling the whole while. She wasn't sure how to dress, so she put on a black tank-top and cream colored slacks. The top was silky and had a pleasant 'v' shape in the front without being revealing, the straps thicker and covering most of her shoulders. She pulled her hair into a low, neat bun.
"You look great, Bren," Fritz commented as he scooted past her in the bathroom, kissing her cheek. She was putting on her makeup, trying not to go overboard.
"You think so, Fritzi?"
"I know so," he replied, shaving.
Charlie was ready before they were, surprisingly. The drive to Captain Raydor's became quieter the closer they got.
"We brought wine," Brenda says when Sharon opens the door, and the other woman can see her nervousness plain as day.
Sharon welcomed them with a smile and a hug for Charlie "Dinner is just about done, come in, come in."
The house is warm and inviting, set for hosting dinner, and Sharon looks… Brenda's cheeks flush, hoping it's attributed to the warmth coming from Sharon's kitchen. She just looks so perfect rushing around the kitchen doing last minute checks, making sure everything is ready. It made her heart swell with want for things she couldn't have.
"Can I help you set the table?" Charlie asked politely, and Brenda grinned at her manners.
"Thank you, honey, but you're the guest. I have it, go and sit," Sharon pressed a kiss to the top of the teenager's head as she passed her. Charlie just wrinkled her nose a bit, but didn't protest it, sitting at the mostly-made table.
Sharon disappeared into the kitchen again when a timer went off. "I'll be back!"
"I'm going to see if she needs help," Brenda says.
"She just told Charlie she's fine," Fritz says, sounding annoyed.
"Well, maybe she just didn't want Charlie helpin','' Brenda shrugs off his perpetual irritation, making her way to the kitchen. "Hey, Sharon, do you need any help? I know you told Charlie you don't…"
Sharon looked up and gave her a warm half smile. "You can bring the plates and silverware to the table, if you must."
Brenda bumps her with her hip teasingly as she goes to grab the plates, and Sharon bumps her back, a small smile on both their faces.
She quietly brings the plates to the table and places them in front of where everyone is sitting. She gives everyone silverware. Sharon comes out with dinner - a roast chicken and vegetables and what smells like fresh, homemade rolls.
"Sharon, this all looks so good," Charlie says.
"Thank you, Charlie," Sharon smiles. "Well, don't be shy. Dinner is served!"
They took rolls and vegetables and Sharon cut chicken for everyone. Dinner was a bit of a quiet affair interrupted by brief conversation, usually with Charlie. Fritz seemed bored. Brenda pushed her food around her plate and ate a few bites, but bit at her cuticles more than she ate.
Sharon cleared her throat after casting her eyes to the ceiling briefly and begging God for patience.
Then she clapped her hands together. "Who's ready for dessert?"
"Aunt Brenda is always ready for dessert," Charlie laughed, earning a half-hearted swat across the table.
"Oh, I know. Your Aunt is quite the peddler of sweets at work," Sharon winks at Brenda as she stands to go get what she made for dessert, which turns out to be a triple-layer devil's food cake with chocolate frosting.
Half-way into polishing off a second piece of cake, Fritz's phone goes off. Brenda looks at him, scandalized. "I thought we agreed phones off," she whispers accusingly. Hers, for once, is.
He shrugs. "I gotta take this," he says to her under his breath, excusing himself.
"Brenda, I've had the wine breathing, how about a glass?" Sharon suggests.
"A glass of wine would be perfect," Brenda replies, taking her cake plate and standing. "Where can I put—?"
"Oh, no, I'll take that, honey, you're a guest!" Sharon frets, and if it gets her to call her honey again, she'll try to be self-sufficient in Sharon's house all the time.
Sharon gave her a gentle push towards the glasses of wine she already poured sitting on the counter.
"Which one?"
"Either," Sharon called over her shoulder, rinsing off Brenda's plate to put in the dishwasher.
Brenda made a noise of surprise as she sipped the wine. It was, as opposed to just good, really good.
Sharon dried her hands. "Let me just go use the ladies room and I'll be right back."
Fritz stepped back in. "Hey, uh…"
Brenda had used that tone enough herself to know where this was going. She handed him the keys. "Don't stay out too late."
"I'm sorry, Bren," he said, and he sounded vaguely apologetic. She figures for all the times she's done this to him it must begin to even out somewhere.
"Go," she replies. "I'll call a taxi later."
Sharon returned for the tail end, seeing Brenda drain the rest of her wine and hearing her front door shut. Charlie watches her Aunt with a strange expression on her face.
"Charlie," Sharon stage-whispers from behind a corner.
Charlie darts from the table to Sharon. "Why are we hiding behind a corner in your house?"
"What just happened?"
"Oh," Charlie looked down and played with her hands. "Uncle Fritz got a work call. He left."
"He—" Sharon closed her eyes briefly. "Alright."
Charlie returns to the table first, and then Sharon returns to the kitchen, picking up her glass of wine. "Where's Agent Howard—Fritz?"
"Work," Brenda replies.
"How are you getting home?" Sharon asks, and she means to sound concerned, but Brenda seems to take it the wrong way.
"I'll call us a cab, Sharon," Brenda rolls her eyes.
"Honey, I was asking if you needed a ride."
Brenda's cheeks went bright red. "Oh. Oh! Um. I couldn't, we couldn't… if it isn't too much trouble…"
Sharon poured Brenda a little bit more wine and placed her hand over hers in a comforting gesture. "It's no trouble at all. And look, it's only…" she looks at her watch, "it's only seven-thirty. We have time to drink a little bit, talk, and sober up before driving you home. No need to rush or worry."
Brenda takes a deep breath. "Okay. Alright."
Sharon smiles and pats Brenda's hand. "Alright."
Charlie drank her water from the table with a wide smile and affection in her eyes.
chapter title from not how its supposed to go by ashe