"Dammit, Stitch! Get in the bathtub." I command desperately, as I try to pick him up and carry him. He's dead weighting on me, and singing the song of his people in my ear the whole way.
"Come on, I have to get ready too." I pant.
To a stranger he seems so well trained that it's almost unbelievable, but bathing him is hell.
Macey welcomes herself into the house, cosmetic box in hand. "Girl, you have an hour and a half until your date. What's taking so long?"
"Ask Stitch." I huff, as I try to get him into the tub with me.
I don't know how she does it, but she has a way with animals. She cuts her eyes at him and he all but jumps into the tub like someone lit a fire under his tail.
We work together to get him clean. The bath water turns brown quickly, because no sooner than we got home, Stich decided to wallow in dirt and mud. Before he steps out of the tub, we dry him off enough that he doesn't make the floor slick and slippery.
Macey and I work in unison to make a great team. She blow dries his fur, while I strip and get into the shower. I love hot showers, they're amazing.
"Don't screw around in there." Macey warns.
Rinsing off the last of the soap, I shut off the water. She hands me a towel and I wrap it around my body.
"Ugh! Why do dates have to be so nerve wracking?" I ask her.
"Who knows?" She asks sarcastically.
Once I'm dry, I put my belly button ring back in, a pure silver wolf face. Dad was so mad when I got that piercing, even though I was eighteen. But I did it for me, because I could.
Macey starts putting makeup on me. "Not too much, I want to be liked for me."
"I know what I'm doing." She reminds me, as she applies concealer and mascara.
My heart rate speeds up the closer it gets to time to go on the date. Cyrus and I agreed to a little Sunday dinner at Crimson Dragon Chinese Buffet. Nothing fancy, I prefer comfort and causal.
Macey drops me off in front of the restaurant, where Cyrus is waiting in front of the door.
"Remember, message me if it goes south." She says.
"Since this is a non-fast-food restaurant, maybe just this once I should go without Stitch." I say fidgeting with my purse. "Please, take good care of him"
"Will do." She nods. "Me and him will go to Dairy Queen."
I get out of the truck and walk up to Cyrus. Shy, I put my head down and greet him. "Hi. So…how are you?"
"Better, now that I'm talking to a pretty lady." He flirts with me.
"You flatter me." I blush.
"I don't flatter, I only tell the truth." Cyrus really lays it on thick.
Why does dating have to be so hard and awkward? Like what do I even say?
"Well, thank you anyway." I say with a smile.
He smiles back and opens the door for me.
"Thank you." I say walking through.
We're greeted by a small Asian woman, and she escorts us to our booth. We order our drinks, and he tells me to go get my food first, while he waits for our drinks. Part of me debates how much of what to put on my plate. Normally, when I come here, I have a whole plateful of my favorites. Ugh, why is dating so hard? I wish I already had my soul mate and was comfortable with them.
Screw it! Let him see me for the food lover that I am. I stack vegetable lo mein, crab raggoons, fried catfish, egg rolls and pot stickers onto my plate.
"Lady, I think you're at the wrong table." An unfamiliar woman's voice snaps me out of my daze.
The first thing I notice is a plate of food across from me. When did he get his food without me noticing him at the buffet? Next to the plate of food is a pink leather wallet. I look up into the eyes of a Hispanic woman that I've never seen before in my life. I rotate in the seat only to see Cyrus in the booth behind me, he's smiling like a possum eating shit. (One of dad's old sayings.)
"I thought you were on a date with me." He teases me.
Mortified to hell and back, I turn back to lady and apologize. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. I wasn't paying attention." I apologize as I grab my plate and move to my actual seat.
Heat flushes my ears and I put my head down, too embarrassed to make eye contact. It, starts. My right leg starts rocking up and down at breakneck speed. The lights seem so blinding and noises magnify. Pots and pans bang as employees speak in the unfamiliar language of Chinese. Other diners speak loudly to one another. It, gets worse as I subconsciously start digging my nails into my thighs.
"Are you ok?" I hear Cyrus ask in the background of my impending meltdown. "Why do you have that look on your face?"
Over stimulated. I'm overstimulated. Snap out of it, Lucy, snap out of it. Forcing myself to look at Cyrus, I study his face, calming myself by studying his features. Goldish brown eyes, similar to Stitches. What have those beautiful eyes seen? What do they hold?
My breathing slows and everything balances out. When I was younger, I couldn't control my autistic meltdowns as well. I'd cover my ears, rock back and forth, and cry at the top of my lungs. To others, I was a brat who was mad for not getting her way.
"Sorry", I sigh, "What you just saw was a small autistic meltdown."
He looks at me as if he's amazed but skeptical. "It didn't look like I had expected. My aunt's son, he's eight, when he melts down, he cries and screams and flails his arms around."
Nervously, I bring a pot sticker to my mouth, "I used to do that once upon a time, but thanks to a therapist and a great family, it's not as bad anymore. For me, I can do anything normal people can do, but I'm not good at socializing and bonding to people. If someone I'm unfamiliar with is using sarcasm on me, I may not get it. I don't really like to be touched, which got me bullied a lot in high school. I guess because I'm a female I'm supposed to be huggy and touchy."
This isn't the first time I've had to explain autism, and myself to someone, and I know it won't be the last.
Less nervous now, I take a bite of an egg roll. "So, you're a mechanic. Do you like your job?" I start asking basic questions.
His eyes light up at my question and he starts getting into specifics. Shop talk that I don't understand or find interesting. I listened enough to know that his dad died when he was young, and his mom left, leaving him with his grandparents. His grandpa is a retired mechanic who taught him everything he knows and is the reason he wants to own his own shop one day. Then he starts in on how he wants to create his own dream car part by part.
"You don't care, do you?" He sneers, and I come to full attention again.
"Sorry." I apologize. "It's just not something I understand. You started talking about alternators and serpentine belts, I don't know what those are, and I zoned out."
He blushes and chuckles lightly. "Sorry, I got carried away. I tend to forget that everyone isn't in the art of mechanics." His face turns red. "Oh, shit, I've been hogging the conversation. I don't even know what you do for a living."
I got to admit that seeing him blush is cute. "Well, I make a living babysitting teenagers. Well, that's when I'm not hunting down werewolves." I say looking into his eyes as deadpan as possible.
His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and his mouth falls open.
My lips pull into a smirk. Are men really this gullible?
Laughing at his child like naivity, I explain. "I'm a substitute teacher that studies cryptids."
"What's a cryptid?" He asks nibbling on some sushi.
"Creatures like Big foot, Chupacabra. But my personal favorite is the Michigan Dogman." I answer him while enjoying a crab raggoon.
What started off as a dull work-related conversation becomes comfortable and feels less forced. He asks me about cryptids, especially the Dogman. We both have great dreams that we're dying to achieve. What was supposed to be a first date, a simple dinner, has turned into so much more.
"I keep forgetting to ask. That day that I saw you at Dairy Queen, I asked you if I knew you. It's because earlier that day, I went to a bakery called Sugar Sweets Bakery, and one of the workers showed me a picture of her granddaughter. I think her name was Hazel. Do you have a grandmother named Hazel that works there?" He asks.
Cyrus is the man that nana gave my number to?
"Yes, my Nana Hazel works there. The other day she told me a nice young man came in, and paid for a young boy's birthday cake. She also told me that he gave the boy's mother money. That was you?" I look into his face with disbelief.
His face mirrors mine. "She gave me your number that day, and showed me your picture. So, yesterday when you gave the exact same number, it all made sense. You looked so familiar at Dairy Queen that it drove me crazy."
Cyrus's face softens and he smiles. "I thought she was just a prejudice grandma showing off her granddaughter. But she had all rights to brag because you are a very interesting woman."
"Good old Nana, the self-proclaimed matchmaker." I chuckle, bringing my hand up to the small crescent moon shaped marks on the nape of my neck that Ryan left behind. It wasn't Nana's fault; she had no way of knowing his true colors.
Our waitress comes over to our table and sets down the tab, on top of it is two fortune cookies. I take the one closest to me and crack it open. It reads. It's time to take great chances.
"Your biggest wish will soon be granted." Cyrus reads his out loud. "Yeah, I wish." He sneers at the sliver of paper.
I look down at the tab. "So, Dutch?" I ask, not used to guys paying my way.
"Uh, no. I asked you on the date, so I'm paying."
I text Macey to tell her that the date is over. Cyrus and I stand outside the restaurant entry, waiting for her to pick me up.
"Tonight was fun." He says, putting his hands in his pockets, as if he doesn't know what to do. "Want to go to dinner next Wednesday?"
"Sure." I reply. "Colton's has good steak." I hint.
"Sounds good." He nods his head.
Wanda tears into the parking lot like a bat out of hell. Stitch is riding next to her, eyes wide as if he's seen a ghost. Her driving can be terrifying.
"Well, good night, I guess." I shrug and debate what to do. Clumsily, I put my hand out for a handshake.
He furrows his brow, attempting to process my awkward movements. Taking my hand he holds it and slowly shakes it. Just because I don't know how to stop when I'm ahead, I do my awkward hug that's more of a pat on the back.
"Good night, weirdo. I'll text you when I get home." He says as he opens the truck door for me. Affectionally, he pats me on the head and closes the door once I'm strapped in.
I watch as he gets into his 2009 blue Dodge Durango.
Macey gets my attention. "So how'd it go?"
"Well, let's see. I got so nervous on my way back from the buffet that I spaced out and sat with a total stranger. Then I had an autistic meltdown. We started talking and it turns out that he's the one Nana gave my number to. And we're supposed to go to dinner next Wednesday." I give her all the details in what feels like one long breath.
Her lips curl into a smile as she busts out laughing. "Oh, shit."
"Laugh it up." I snort, totally aware of how awkward the night has been. Despite my embarrassment, I find the ability to laugh on the inside.
"Stitch and I went to the bowling alley. Made three hundred dollars playing pool." She says pulling a big clump of small bills out of her bra. "Turns out, that if you show enough cleavage while playing pool, men have a harder time focusing. Looks like I'm getting new shoes and my nails done." She laughs, sliding the clump back into her bra.
The woman has triple D boobs and still manages to fit everything else in that bra. I've seen her use her bra to store her phone, money, keys…etc. One time she snuck a bottle of Dr. Pepper into the movie theater in her bra.
"Mmmk sis, let's talk about intimacy." She jumps into a whole new topic. "A handshake? Really? And a pat on the back?"
"I didn't know what to do. I felt like I was obligated to do something." I shrug, unsure of how to explain myself.
Holding the steering wheel with one hand, she reaches across Stitch and flicks my earlobe. "You weren't obligated to do anything that you didn't want to." She scolds.
"That's not what I meant. He and I hit it off so well, I just wanted to make physical contact, but wasn't sure how." I attempt to explain.
"Regardless, never do anything you don't want to do for a guy." She says sternly. "Because they ain't shit."
"I know." I chuckle.
Make it weird. So this bitch. They aint shit.
Sage advice from crazy Macey.