The Recruit Page 3
Dylan sat opposite her in the small booth in his suit and tie. Rebecca had forgotten about the tight dress, wearing a skirt and a blouse to look presentable yet comfortable. So far, their first date could have gone better.
Millie checked her watch before starting her way to their table. She looked tired with her little notepad in one hand and pencil in the other, her hair had seen better days, too. It was clear she’d rather go home than have to take their order, yet Rebecca thought curiosity was her incentive.
What is that man doing with the dance teacher? Millie was probably wondering. At least that’s what Rebecca would want to know.
“Well?” Millie asked for their order in a rude tone.
“Maybe you could give us two minutes, Millie?” suggested Rebecca timidly since neither one of them had looked at the rectangular laminated menu standing in the middle of the table between the salt, pepper and napkins.
The woman looked at her for the longest time and then glanced at her companion. It was an awkward moment for everyone and as Rebecca turned to look at the other couple, she realized they were expecting something to happen.
“Sure,” Millie said dryly. “Just remember the kitchen closes in fifteen minutes.”
Rebecca pursed her lips and nodded, “All right.”
She waited for Millie to walk away and then her eyes found Dylan’s again.
Dylan casually reached for one menu and read through it. His head moved from top to bottom, his eyes from left to right. In less than a minute, he put the menu back where he’d found it.
“Well?” Rebecca asked him. “Do you know what you want?”
“Do you?”
“Sure, I always have the same thing.”
Dylan raised his eyebrows in understanding. “All right, then.”
Rebecca signaled for Millie, although that wasn’t necessary. She hadn’t gone far.
Dylan was the first to order, “I’ll have a number three, please. With a glass of milk.”
Millie wrote that down. “Do you want any fries with that?”
“Sure,” smiled Dylan politely. “Why not? Thank you.”
Nodding, Millie turned to look at Rebecca. “How about you, dear? The usual?”
Rebecca nodded. “Yes, please.”
By the time Millie went back to the kitchen, the couple was already gone.
They were alone, if only for a minute. An awkward silence followed. Neither one of them knew what to say. Neither one knew how to start a conversation.
Rebecca had never been great at talking to people and if Dylan was anything like her, they were in real trouble.
Fortunately, he cleared his throat and began, “You know everybody in this town, don’t you?”
It had been just the right thing to say to get her to relax. “I’ve lived here ever since I can remember,” she shrugged. “Everybody knows everybody.”
Dylan nodded. “Right, you weren't born here.” It hadn’t sounded like a question, more like verifying a fact.
“I wasn’t.” She tried to remember if she’d mentioned it before. “After my parents died, I came to live here with my grandmother.”
She waited for Dylan’s reaction to the news of her parents’ death, but the man didn’t even flinch when he heard about this tragic event from the past. Instead, he looked around the diner, staring at the white walls with the red tile pattern surrounding them, the blue ceiling on top, and the old-fashioned lamps hanging above each table. To her, there had always been a familiar and safe feeling to this diner and she wondered if Dylan felt that, too.
After another long silence, Rebecca took a deep breath before asking, “Why are we here, Dylan?”
Dylan looked suspicious of her question. “I thought they served dinner here.”
“I know, but what are we doing? I mean, why are you back here? To this town?”
“Well, because I wanted to see you again. I thought I could get to know you better,” he replied.
That sounded nice. Perhaps too good to believe. “You know? I’m not sure about all this,” Rebecca confessed. “It was great at Coleen’s wedding, but this,” she pointed to each of them, “I don’t know. Maybe we aren't meant to be. I don’t think we have much in common.” It had hurt her to say it, especially because she had convinced herself she had wanted them to work, but she felt it was necessary for it to come out now. Much like everything else she did, this relationship was starting to look like another failure and it hadn’t even started.
“I don’t think that’s true,” Dylan stated with no other explanation. He then went completely off topic. “This is a curious town. I guess I’m still trying to absorb the place, it’s different from what I’m used to.” He then leaned over the table to get closer to her, “I’m also not much of a people person. So I guess we have that in common.”
“You’re not?” Rebecca asked a little amused. “Last week you couldn’t stop talking.”
He smiled patiently, “I was nervous. I think I was trying too hard.”
“Nervous?” she asked. Nervous was not an adjective she would associate with her new friend. “Why would you be nervous?”
“I was talking to you and I was nervous,” Dylan explained. “I wanted to make a good first impression.”
She said nothing after hearing that. Instead, she sighed and looked away. “Who are you? I mean, apart from being a Federal agent. Why would you even want to talk to me? I’m a nobody. I teach dance. That’s all. You’re like, someone important.”
He denied none of it. “Well, to tell the truth, I’m looking for someone, and I think you could be the one I’m looking for.”
That had made absolutely no sense at all. “What kind of person are you looking for?”
Leaning back on the booth, Dylan took a deep breath, looking like he was about to deliver very serious news. “I need a partner.”
Millie interrupted them. Even Rebecca was surprised by how quickly she had returned with their order. They thanked her and stared at their plates after she had left.
“I haven’t had a hamburger in a diner for the longest time,” Dylan announced as he studied the plate before him. “Are they any good?”
“They’re all right,” Rebecca said absentmindedly, Dylan’s last words still on her mind.
To Dylan, it didn’t seem to be a big deal. She watched him take the burger with both hands, opening his mouth for a big bite.
Dylan closed his eyes as he savored the burger in his mouth, all the time making sounds of pleasure louder than Rebecca knew were possible. She looked around to make sure no one was staring; the diner was now empty, yet she was sure even Kevin, the cook, could hear him from the kitchen. He must be either pleased, amused, or both, hearing Dylan.
“You don’t really fit in here, do you know that?” Rebecca interrupted his food savoring.
He finished eating before speaking. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you sit here, with your perfect suit, and perfect hair in this very average town. You stand out.”
Dylan couldn’t help but look worried. “Is it because of what I'm wearing?”
“Maybe,” Rebecca said. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you feel uncomfortable being here with me? Because if you do, that’s the last thing I want.”
“I guess I don’t,” she said after thinking about it. “I guess I don’t care if you’re different. Nothing ever happens in this town, anyway.” She was thoughtful for a moment. In front of her Dylan nodded in acknowledgment before continuing to eat. He ate so fast, it was almost like he had eaten nothing in ages or aimed to win some sort of contest.
Rebecca wasn’t sure what to believe. Dylan seemed to be completely at ease with her. He didn’t pressure her for answers, he didn’t seem to judge her unexpected silences. She doubted that was normal behavior in a man. Although she had never met someone who hadn’t grown up in the town; perhaps men were different in the rest of the country. Rarely did a new family move in, so she couldn’t tell.
“Can I have that?” His question startled her. Rebecca had been too busy thinking, Dylan had been too busy eating.
She hadn’t even noticed when he had finished his double burger with cheese and all the fries on the plate. Immediately, she straightened up and stared at his empty plate in astonishment. “Wow, you were starving, weren’t you?” she exclaimed. Dylan didn’t even look at her; instead, he looked at the inviting plate she hadn’t touched. “I guess you can have my chicken salad.” She pushed her plate to his side of the table, thinking she could have something to eat when she went back home.
“Thank you.” Without wasting a second, he was getting ready to start on her plate. “Tell me about your grandmother.”
Rebecca still had to watch him eat a little longer before starting. “Uhm, she’s dead.”
“What happened?”
Another fork-full went inside his mouth.
“Heart attack, I heard,” Rebecca confessed. “I was in New York when it happened and I got a call… a message. That’s how I found out.”
“I take it you two never became close.”
It had been a peculiar way to word that. It almost felt as if Dylan had known her grandmother and was wondering what had become of her. But, it couldn’t be, could it? Dylan couldn’t have known her grandmother. She died when she was nineteen. “You’re right, my grandmother and I never saw eye to eye. In fact, our last conversation wasn’t an example of good family values.” Memories of her came flooding in. Immediately, she felt stressed out. Her time with her grandmother hadn’t been pleasant. So much that she had done all she could to get out of her house as soon as she had been able to.
“I never knew the two of you didn’t get along,” muttered Dylan.
“What?”
“I mean to say,” Dylan cleared his throat, “I’m sorry you didn’t get along.”
Rebecca was certain he had worded his sentence differently before.
“Nana, that’s my grandmother, was German,” Rebecca began, remembering how thick her American accent used to be. “When she married she wasn't that young, and she married an even older American. Together they had my dad. Since they were so old, he was the only child. My grandfather died when my dad was still a boy. Then, when my dad grew up he somehow met a Chinese woman in school or something and they got married. It was the worst thing he could do to Nana. It was one of those family dramas where my grandmother refused to see my dad just because of who he’d marry.” Dylan stopped eating as he listened to her story with interest. “So anyway,” sighed Rebecca. “When my parents died in that car crash the police found my only living relative, and it was my grandmother. That’s how I ended up living with her.”
Dylan nodded in understanding, “So, did you look like your mother and she disliked that? Because you reminded her of the woman who had stolen her son?”
“I suppose. It was more like I was an aberration and I didn’t deserve to be her granddaughter. Too bad she was stuck with me.”
He let the fork drop, clashing with the plate. Half of the chicken salad was gone, Dylan was no longer interested in it. Somehow, he looked upset by the story. Really upset. “I’m sorry, Becca. I didn’t know.”
Shrugging, she forced a smile. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. You weren’t there, there’s nothing you could have done.”
The look on his face told her maybe there had been something he could have done. Although that was impossible… wasn’t it?
Trying to change the subject, Rebecca said, “Are you still hungry?” She was pointing to her half-empty plate. “We can go find Millie and order something else. It may not be too late. Or we could get a slice of pie. It’s fantastic here. You’d like it.”
Dylan stared at the rest of the chicken salad. Rebecca could have sworn he was blushing when he’d seen what he’d done. He almost looked like he hadn’t meant to eat her meal and hadn't realized he had. “I can order something else. Are you hungry? You didn’t eat anything,” he pushed the plate to her side of the table. “Good chicken salad. Wait here.”
She watched him stand up to the counter. After a short argument with Millie, she agreed to take his order. Rebecca looked at the clock on the wall. The diner would close in less than ten minutes. If Millie had agreed to keep the kitchen open, it was probably because she was just as fascinated with this stranger as she was.
Dylan came back with two slices of pie. One was apple pie, the other pecan. “Which one do you like best?” he asked her. Rebecca took the apple pie, sliding it in front of her.
“Thank you.” It was getting easier to get along with Dylan. All they needed was a little time. He was so easy to talk to, even more so now than in the wedding. He listened, looked interested in what she had to say, and didn’t mind uncomfortable silences. She couldn't understand why, but it was refreshing to trust this man with the story of her life. Except, for a relationship to work, it had to be a two-way street.
“Tell me about you, now,” prompted Rebecca. “Are your parents still alive?”
“No,” Dylan stated.
“What happened?”
Dylan stopped eating; after a while he turned to look at her. He then shrugged and said, “You don’t want to hear about my family.”
“What are you talking about? Sure, I do.”
Millie interrupted just in time to save Dylan again from saying anymore. She placed a burger in front of each of them. Rebecca looked at the big and juicy burger in wonder. Her mouth watered from smelling it. She hadn’t eaten anything but a slice of pie that evening. She was so hungry.
Dylan thanked Millie, who this time placed the check between them. “We close in five minutes. Don’t take long.”
Before she left, Dylan took out his wallet, giving her a few bills. Millie thanked him and went back to the front desk.
“How can you be this hungry?” Rebecca asked. Glancing at his body, he looked lean, healthy, and athletic.
“They’re good burgers,” Dylan stated, still with his mouth full.
“Yeah, but…” Something didn’t make any sense. Dylan didn’t look like the kind of man who could eat so much. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Dylan stopped eating. “I'm eating too much, aren't I? I can stop doing it.”
“No. No. Why would you stop? If you’re hungry, then by all means, go ahead,” Rebecca told him. Taking her own burger in her hands, she took a small bite. Dylan was right, it was good. Swallowing her mouthful, she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat so much.”
Putting his second burger down, he somehow looked ashamed of what he was doing. “I’m sorry, I… It’s just that it’s been a while since I ate anything.”
“What, days?” He winced at that. She couldn’t be right. It couldn’t have been days. Could they? There were many strange things about Dylan Torrence. If she didn’t like him that much, she’d said something was wrong with him. “I didn’t mean for you to stop eating. If you’re hungry, don’t stop on my account.” She continued eating, too.
At first he hesitated, but eventually, Dylan picked up his burger and finished it.
“I hadn't realized how hungry I was,” Rebecca smiled with her mouth full. “We should come here more often.” Was she inviting him on another date?
“We should,” Dylan agreed.
The kitchen light was turned off. Rebecca turned around to see both Kevin and Millie getting ready to go.
“We should go, it’s late,” Rebecca suggested, her burger still half finished on her plate.
“Right,” Dylan agreed. “Are you going to finish that?”
“No, I’m full,” she said, rubbing her tummy.
Dylan asked, “Do you mind if I take it home?”
“Not at all,” she smiled.
“I feel strange,” she told him while examining her hands and feeling her skin with her fingertips.
“You should,” he said, helping her down from the stretcher where her transformation had happened.
The roo
m was shaped like a perfect cube. Its white walls looked yellow with the incandescent light that fell on them. In the middle, the narrow bed where Rebecca had taken the one red pill stood by itself behind her, the four windows before her showed the tips of trees and a black sky filled with stars and a crescent moon.
“Am I really… did it work?”
“It worked.”
She did her best to hide her excitement and looked forward to what would follow. Leaving the careful examination of her own body, she concentrated on the view outside the window as it was illuminated by the moon’s sliver “I like the forest. I never get to see so many trees.” She couldn’t wait to see them in the daylight.
She wasn’t expecting an answer and Dylan didn’t comment on her observation. After enough time had passed, she felt Dylan shift behind her. “I will show you your room now,” he told her. “It’s late and we both need to rest.”
Without confessing ‘rest’ was the last thing on her mind, she reluctantly agreed to Dylan’s suggestion. Following him out of the quiet room, where only their footsteps disturbed the silence, she said, “You know, I don’t really feel like sleeping.”
She heard Dylan scoff as if she had been a child saying some ridiculous thing, but when he spoke he did so with respect, “Sleeping is always encouraged.”
Nodding once again, Rebecca rubbed her arms following him outside the small room. She didn’t feel cold anymore.
It was already September when Coleen first called Rebecca after returning from her honeymoon. Classes at the dance studio were well underway. Mrs. Anderson seemed to enjoy filling Coleen’s position as a receptionist. She was very organized and nice to the dancers, their parents, and Rebecca. When Mrs. Anderson had created the dance studio, she had worked all roles. She had minored in modern dance in college and had loved it. Her major had been administration, and it only made sense that she took her chances opening a small dance school in her hometown when she graduated.
Unlike Rebecca, Mrs. Anderson loved their town. She loved her dance school, and she loved Rebecca Sawyer.