Chapter Twenty: First Day on the Job
When Vincent knocked on the door the following morning, Aralyn opened immediately. Her eyes were red, and he got the feeling that she hadn't slept all night. She was dressed in a worn, dark red turtleneck with sleeves that covered not only her arms, but half of her hands as well. Her pants were long, with holes in the knees that had been patched with squares of fabric, and her boots went up to her knees, the heels half falling off. He noted how she had taken particular care to hide her body so thoroughly, and wondered if her scars had reappeared.
Vincent was making a mental checklist for Aralyn: first, food; second, proper clothing.
She walked out without a word, locking the door behind her and then pocketing the key. Vincent stepped ahead, leading the way to Seventh Heaven.
He opened the door for her, but had to push her in all the same. She remained in the doorway, head lowered and hands clenched. Vincent went up to the front counter and rang a small silver bell that was mounted there. "Your new employee is here," he called, not raising his voice from his normal dark and silent tone.
Tifa walked in, wiping her hands on a small hand towel. "Good morning, Aralyn! Nice to have you here."
Aralyn murmured a greeting that wasn't meant to be unkind, but sounded distant and forlorn anyway.
"Look out below!"
Vincent quickly sidestepped away from the stairs to make way for Yuffie, who was sliding down the handrail. He didn't even flinch when the counter was shaken as she ungracefully hit the floor.
"Ow!" she protested. "Vinnie, you couldn't catch me?" She rubbed her head as she glared at the gunman.
Vincent ascended the stairs without sparing her so much as a passing glance.
"Big jerk!" Yuffie shot back, sticking out her tongue at him. Straightening her ruffled hair, she finally turned her gaze to Aralyn. "Oh! Hello! Did Vincent bring you here? I'm really sorry."
"Come on in, Aralyn!" Tifa beckoned, smiling but trying to hide it. "Don't let those two bug you, they're always at it."
Aralyn approached, coming up to the counter. "What do you need me to do?" she asked timidly.
"Well, it's slow now. Why don't you have a seat? Can I get you something to eat? It's on the house!"
"I couldn't…" But before she could finish her weak protest, her stomach gave a very loud growl. She sighed, defeated. "I'd feel better if you took the cost out of my pay, though."
"Ah, you'll live somehow." Tifa winked and disappeared into the kitchen.
Aralyn sat in a seat, fidgeting, with shifting eyes. Yuffie helped herself to two chairs, slouching in one and propping her feet on the other.
"So, Vinnie didn't shoot you," she started. "He must like you."
Aralyn didn't know how to reply to that. "He has a good heart," she said, sincerely and yet timidly.
Yuffie snorted. "Somewhere in there. You'd never guess by looking at him."
Tifa reemerged carrying a steaming plate of waffles, doused with berries, and a glass of orange juice. Aralyn murmured a shy thanks before partaking. A similar plate was laid before Yuffie, but it was gone before Aralyn got to get a good look at what she had been served.
"You can work in the kitchen with me if you'd like, Aralyn," Tifa offered. "I'd enjoy the company. None of the men folk will volunteer."
Aralyn nodded vigorously. "I'd love to! I used to cook a lot, maybe I can be of some use?"
Tifa nodded. "Come on back whenever you're ready."
Before long, Aralyn was dressed in a smart white apron with her hair tied back, away from her busy hands. Tifa had to slow her down on some occasions, as she worked at breakneck pace, breathing and sweating heavily from exertion.
"It's not a busy day, Aralyn, take it easy! We'll have too much!"
"Won't it save?" Nonetheless, her hands began to slow.
"Not very well," Tifa said. "It's cooking, not hauling cargo. Slow down, enjoy yourself."
"Oh…okay." She looked at the abundance of dough she had made. "I've wasted all that…"
"Did I hear that there's lots of extra food?" Yuffie yelled from the front of the bar. She quickly ran, leaping over the counter to examine the fresh batch of pastries Aralyn had made. She breathed in deeply, savoring the sweet aroma. "We've got all of Avalanche to finish up this stuff and…hey Vin-vin! Come and try some of this!"
"You don't have to if you don't want to, Vincent," Aralyn quickly added, trying to save him from Yuffie as much as possible. "But you're welcome to them!"
Vincent tilted his head back slightly as he descended the stairs, and Aralyn was pleased when he strode forward and took one of the smaller pastries. He ate it slowly, but from the expression on his normally stoic face she knew that he was pleasantly surprised.
Yuffie was already on her fifth. "You weally 'aught ta make 'hese more often," she said through a mouth full of food. Vincent sent her a disapproving look, but continued nibbling slowly on his treat.
"These were my husband's favorite," she said ponderously as she began kneading another fraction of the mountain of dough. "Because they were so basic, he could take them when he traveled." She turned her full attention to the dough, avoiding the inquisitive eyes. Vincent raised an eyebrow, examining the food with a new perspective.
"You're married?" Yuffie yelped.
"Well…kind of. He…" her face fell from thoughtful to sorrowful. "Abandoned me."
"The jerk!" Yuffie spat, waving her pastry, sending flaky crumbs flying. "He gave up this?" Under Vincent's glare, she heavily edited her statement. "I mean, I'm sure he had you in mind…he's probably watching you right now! Yeah! His burning passion for you is eating away at him and soon he'll come running back to sweep you off your feet and…"
"Yuffie," Vincent said darkly, his tone of voice threatening dire consequences.
"I'm shutting up," Yuffie squeaked, slinking away from the table.
Vincent rested his gauntleted hand on Aralyn's shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked, quietly, so that Tifa wouldn't hear.
"Yeah," she said a little too quickly, throwing too much strength into her kneading. "Yes, I'm fine."
The small bell on the front door rang, signaling the arrival of a customer. Vincent turned and left as Tifa went forward to be the waitress.
He had known that she would have to suffer when he made her take this job, but he had convinced himself that it was worth it to see her properly fed again. With the day's incident weighing on his mind, and seeing how the light in her eyes was all but extinguished for the rest of the day, he suddenly wasn't so sure.