burnthemall | Been a Long Time Coming for the Working Man

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Been a Long Time Coming for the Working Man

Hansel liked the times where he was alone in the coffee shop best. Early in the morning when he was baking or late at night when he was cleaning up, or making doughs to rise overnight. It was quiet, except for the radio he left playing in the kitchen. He was alone and allowed a moment of peace and quiet.

If Gretel stayed some nights that was okay. He never minded his sister's presence.

Tonight, he was alone though, moping the floor and singing along to the radio.

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She looks at him quietly for a moment, trying to decide if she actually wants to talk about this or not. But hey, it's not like Hansel will probably ever mention this again, and she knows for a fact that he never talks about her anyway, so maybe getting it off her chest will be good for her.

"When I was sixteen, I got abducted from school during the homecoming dance. I wasn't found until almost three days later. I have little to no memories of that time, but there was plenty of physical trauma for the police to document. Including DNA. Turns out the man who took me was dead, had died earlier in the year. Imagine how well that went over, hm. Dead culprit kidnaps teenage girl." It sounds like she's quoting headlines now, and she is. She's back to staring at her towels because looking at his face is too difficult. "Nobody believed me. My injuries healed and people forgot and I made myself stop thinking about it. I went to college all the way across the country, never stepped foot back home, immersed myself in my new life so I could forget. And everything was just fine, until I graduated Yale and went on to do my master's at Harvard."

A long pause again, before she sighs, her fingers twisting the towel. "He was one of my professors. First day of class, he looks straight at me in the sea of faces in lecture, right into my eyes, and smiles at me. I knew it was him. I could feel it in my bones. I tried telling campus police, called up the city, everything. Nobody believed me. They told me I was imagining things, that I had unresolved emotional issues that were pushing to the fore, that I was projecting. I'm not crazy," she insists, lifting her head to stare at him with a determined expression. "I'm not. It was him, I knew it was. But nobody paid any attention, so I did the only thing I could think of: I dropped out. I moved out of Boston, I got a new job, I bought a taser and a gun." A gun she keeps with her at all times.

"That's why."

Well, that was heavy. He wasn't expecting that answer and he had no idea how to respond to it. He thought maybe she just got discouraged or some shit like that. Kidnap had not entered into his mind, though considering his own childhood maybe it should have. He forgot sometimes that other people had shitty childhoods too.

"Fuck 'em," he said with a shrug. "You deserve that medal whatever happened to you. You might as well get back to it. If it's what really makes you happy."

That's why Hansel was a baker, running a business with his sister because it made him happy. Engineering was great and all, but it wouldn't have fulfilled him like running a family business does.

She ends up shaking her head, still fiddling with the towel in her hands.

"No. I...it reminds me too much of him." A soft sigh and she wipes at her face again. "I'm happy found what I'm doing. When it goes well and my clients don't back out at the last minute, making us lose millions on a specific property."

That sounded a hell of a lot like giving up to Hansel, but he wasn't going to harp on her when she already felt like crap.

"You'll close an even bigger deal next week." He figured in her world millions wasn't a lot of money.

"Well, if I don't get fired between now and then." She's being melodramatic, of course, but it feels apropos right now.

"I got an opening for a floor mopper if you need a job in a few days." He's trying to lighten the mood with more of his lame humor.

She laughs quietly. "Only if you use designer mops."

"Only Ace hardware's best." He had no fucking clue where the mop came from. It was just a stupid mop.

"Good enough for me."

She sits back a little and takes a deep breath, pushing her hair out of her face and clearly trying to get herself back together. "Thanks, Hansel. For...all of this."

He shrugs a shoulder. "No problem, Red."

Not that he wanted to do this again. He could only really handle this once or twice a month. Maybe.

"Do you want me to clear out, let you finish up without me breaking down in the center of your store?"

It's possible she's just mortified he had to see that.

"You can stay if you want. I've got to finish up." Because he can't close without cleaning everything up. He's worked until the wee hours of the morning sometimes.

Insomnia is an issue.

She hesitates for a moment. "...Can I help?"

"Can you clean?" Because he can't imagine her cleaning. Ever.

She gives him a look. "As long as I can do it barefoot, then yes." Because she is not fulfilling any weird teenage fantasies he had about a hot chick cleaning in heels.

"You can't be barefoot in here. It's against the health code." He doesn't have any weird French maid fantasies. He's not that kinky.

She looks down at the floor where her stilettos sit, silently accusing her.

"Fine," she sighs. "Let's make this quick, then. My feet hurt already and doing dishes or whatever in Manolo Blahnik's isn't going to help."

"No, go home if you're hurting. You've had a bad enough day."

He's not going to make her feet suffer on top of it. He's not cruel.

"Nope, I'm doing it now, come on."

She sits up and wiggles her feet back into her shoes, clapping her hands on her thighs.

"I might be here for another two hours, Lydia."

He has his nighttime ritual and he's got to make sure everything is still going well with his dough. He's not going to keep her here.

"Look, go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Then that's another two hours I don't have to be alone with my crushing failures. I'm helping you, get used to it."

She just doesn't want to be alone right now. Even sore toes is going to be worth it.

"Gretel will still be up. I can call her. You two can have a girl's night or some shit."

Because he really doesn't want her on her feet working when she's had a crappy day. That just doesn't seem fair to him.

"Do you want the help or not, Hansel, come on." She steals a pen from in front of the register, one of those slim Bic ones, and twists her hair off her neck, stabbing the pen through it to keep it in place. "Leave your sister alone, I don't need to bug her."

"I don't. Not really. You've worked enough today. Go have fun." That's really all he wants for her. It's not that he's bothered by her offering, but she's got impractical shoes and she's all dressed up.

"Or, you know, go home and take a hot bath or something. Relaxing shit, not this crap."

"I really don't want to be alone in my apartment right now, that's all," she confesses, halfway back into the back, pausing with her hand on her hip.

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