An Evening With Brenda Begins

John dried off and headed to his room. Equipping the Savvy merchant attire, he took a look in his mirror. The clothing looked like something you might see at a ren-faire: cotton v-neck shirt with a string laced collar, what looked like brown horse riding breeches, and a set of boots. Soon after putting them on, the fabric shifted: the old fashioned shirt turned into a loose and comfortable T-shirt, the breeches loosened and shrunk until he wore a pair of shorts, and the boots transformed into comfortable and thick socks which had rubber pads at the bottom for grip.

Though the clothing was very comfortable for lounging around in his room, he needed something nice to go out in, so after a quick search online for a smart casual outfit, he spun around thinking of it, and the clothing shifted yet again. The T-shirt turned into a white plain button-up that was tucked into a pair of navy trousers, over the shirt was a dinner jacket matching his pants, and finally a pair of white All-Stars. Once he’d mussed up his hair a little, he headed for the stairs.

Reaching the foot of the staircase, John was face to face with his mother who was stunning. She had some very light makeup on, which was a reminder that she was naturally beautiful. As he got a little closer, he could smell that sweet raspberry scent from the dust she’d applied earlier, but now he could also smell a hint of mandarin.

She had a red corduroy jacket which was mostly open save for the fabric belt loosely pulling the bottom together. The top half of the jacket was **** open by her chest which, in the grey turtleneck sweater she wore, looked bigger than usual, maybe even rivalling June in size.

The jacket and turtleneck seemed to be the same length, ending around Brenda’s mid-thigh. Under that, she wore a deep red pair of leggings with a black floral pattern, and finally a nice pair of glossy black three-inch heels.

John was almost speechless; he’d not seen his mother dress up like this in a long time and it very much suited her. She beamed at him. “Oh sweetie, you look so handsome in that. Did you buy it to go out with the girl I’m not allowed to ask about?” She let out a light giggle.

John laughed with her. “First off, you look beautiful in your outfit, Mom. Second, I didn’t say that you can’t ask about her, I just… we’ve only known each other since Monday and things are moving really quickly, the two of you meeting each other is, I feel, another big step in the relationship and it feels like it’s the only thing I have control over.” He sighed while rubbing the back of his neck before continuing, “And lastly, no, actually I chose this specifically for tonight, I thought I should make an effort since we’re going out somewhere.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. And by fast you mean, you… uhm, you know?” she hinted, quickly backpedalling. “Actually, never mind. Hopefully, you’ll be alright talking later about you and your mystery girl.” Brenda smiled. “I ordered a taxi when I heard your shower shutting off, so it should be here soon.”

“Taxi? It’s not that far, we could have walked, or you could have driven or even gotten an uber, taxi’s suuuuck,” John complained.

“Sweetie, I’m in heels, there’s no way I could walk, plus we don’t want to get our outfits messy before we even get there. So yes, I called a cab, and I’ve told you I’m just not sure about the uber thing,” Brenda explained,

John sighed. “Well I guess I can’t really argue with any of that, but next time couldn’t I deal with travel? I hate taxis.”

Brenda ignored John’s complaint as her phone began to ring. “Oh, the taxi is here, sweetie, let’s go.”

John didn’t like taxis and this one was no different. The driver spent the short drive complaining the entire time about how apps are ruining taxi services and how shady all their drivers were. Brenda seemed to be getting uncomfortable but agreed with the driver in an attempt to shut him up, which didn’t work. Finally, they arrived at the picturesque restaurant on the edge of town. Brenda paid for the ride, and before she even had a chance to bid the driver a good evening, he’d all but sped out of there.

The two turned to the restaurant. The Fox House’s exterior looked like a giant hunting cabin and was right at home on Springfield Lake. The place had stood here for over thirty years and was split into two sections. One side was made to look and feel like an old British pub and was a respite for hikers, bikers and anyone else out on the lake or going through the nature trails. The other side was a very nice restaurant, one that the owner claimed mimicked the restaurant he and his wife had owned in England before moving to Springfield and building the cabin by hand.

“I called ahead and reserved a table for us on the upstairs balcony overlooking the lake. We’re a tad early, so we should go in on the bar side,” Brenda said, taking John’s hand and leading him to the door on the left side of the building.

John loved the look of the bar; it was how he imagined fantasy taverns to look like, it used to be a regular thing to come and visit with the family. The owners were close family friends, so it was always great to visit.

“This place hasn’t changed all that much, has it? Though, it’s well taken care of and maintained, not like some places in town that have stayed the same but aged until they were run down,” John pointed out.

A swinging door behind the bar opened and the broad-shouldered owner pulled a metal barrel through. “Did I just hear someone say run down? I’ll have you know, Kathy and I routinely maintain this place to keep it all clean and fresh,” a gruff voice rumbled.

John stood awkwardly while his mother piped up, “Oh, don’t worry, Eric, he wasn’t insulting your place; on the contrary, he was saying how nice it is compared to some other places in town.”

The bear of a man spun on his heels after setting the dolly with the barrel upright; he was at least a head taller than John. His messy hair and trimmed salt and pepper beard only added to his lumberjack like appearance, and the deep scar that ran from below his left eye and cut through his beard made him that much more intimidating. Despite how he looked, however, a broad, friendly smile adorned his face and made him less someone John would avoid as a threat and more someone he’d turn to for help.

The guy chuckled, “If it isn’t Brenda, we haven’t seen you in a long while now; Kathy’s been worried, we used to see you and little John all the time.” The man turned his attention to John. “And speaking of little John, seems I can’t call you that anymore, can I? You’ve gone and grown up on me. Kathy told me you guys visited a couple years ago while I was away, so it’s great to see you. Gosh, it’s strange to see you as a grown-up, John, I remember when you used to run through here swinging sticks around.”

“Sorry, I wanted to visit more often, but I’ve been busy at work for a while now; not only that but it’s hard to come here sometimes since...” Brenda trailed off. “Well never mind that.”

“Don’t you worry about it, I’m just glad to see you now. We were quite surprised to hear that you’d booked a table. Though we thought it was strange that you didn’t book last week instead, I hear a certain guy just turned eighteen; if I wouldn’t get into trouble, I’d have offered you a drink to celebrate,” Eric laughed.

“I’m not sure he’s all that interested in drinking, to be honest, Eric; I have **** in the house and he knows he can have some anytime he wants, so long as it’s in the house, and he doesn’t ever really try any of it,” Brenda said looking over at John.

John was slowly moving his weight from one foot to the other feeling awkward and mostly looking at the floor or the wooden bar. “You aren’t getting shy on me are ya, John? I remember when you were about yay big,” Eric motioned to roughly three feet, “you’d come running up to me saying ‘Uncle Eric, can I play with this?’ ‘can I have that?’ and so on. Now you’re standing there like you don’t know me at all.”

John rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, sorry? Obviously, I remember you; it’s been a long time though, so you kinda feel like an estranged family member, and it’s hard to know how to act when someone seems more familiar with you than you are of them, if that makes sense?”

Eric laughed again. “I get you, don’t worry about it. Listen, you two go take a seat and I’ll bring you over something to drink. What’ll you have?”

“Oh, uh, what do you have?” John relaxed a little.

Eric flashed a friendly smile. “Well, we have the typical pop you normally get, but we also make fresh smoothies and milkshakes with real fruit and veg, though we have some cookies and chocolate for the milkshakes too. Plus we are now partnered with a local barbeque place and they supply us with their homemade lemonade, it’s actually one of our best sellers and we often run out of it early on, though I do keep a few bottles for me and Kathy, they make amazing and refreshing shandies.”

John perked up remembering his time at June’s. “You mean Smokestack?”

Eric chuckled. “That’s the one, yeah. Honestly, it’s one of the few restaurants in town Kathy and I go to, a family business that doesn’t feel much like one. Something we don’t get too often anymore.”

“It’s such a shame too because family-run places always have a little extra you just don’t get at chain stores and franchises,” Brenda commented.

“Mostly just convenience, probably?” John shrugged. “There are a few places though, maybe not all family-run but independent places. There are a couple places on Meander Alley that are independent, pretty sure Insert Coin is owned by a couple of friends who wanted to make a cool place for gamers.”

“So those drinks? What were you fancying, John?” Eric asked.

“Uh, I tried the raspberry lemonade before from Smokestack, and I know they’re great. But, a nice fresh strawberry milkshake sounds good right now.”

“And you, my dear?” Eric turned to Brenda.

She looked to John. “How good would you say that lemonade is sweetie?”

“Oh, it’s delicious, Mom, I felt like I could have just drunk a pitcher of it in one go when I had it,” John assured.

“I’ll take a shandy with that homemade lemonade then please, Eric,” Brenda decided.

“Any particular preference on the beer, lager, bitter or ale?” Eric smiled.

“Hmm, I’ll trust your judgement.” Brenda nodded.

“Righty-O! You two go take a seat and I’ll bring your drinks over,” Eric hummed.

The two-headed to one of the three booth seats which was empty. Soon after taking their seat, Eric brought their drinks, and placed a large fancy glass stein in front of John. The stein looked to be handcrafted and had spiral ridges around it as well as a metal lid attached and connected to the handle. “Didn’t think I forgot which was your favourite glass, did you, kiddo? Like I used to tell you when you were younger, careful with it, it’s one from my personal collection. And for you, Brenda,” he placed a pint glass on the table and poured what looked like a cloudy ale into the glass before placing the half-empty bottle on the table and fixing the clip stopper back onto it, “since it’s you, I thought I’d make it a special drink. One of the hunter groups that brings me fresh game also makes some top quality drinks, so I mixed the Smokestack lemonade with some of my finest private stash of ale.”

Brenda smiled and took a sip; her eyes widened slightly and she let out a pleased hum. “Oh that’s delicious, how much do I owe you, Eric?”

He laughed. “Don’t think about it; these are on me, a welcome back present and maybe an incentive to come and visit us again in the near future. You guys came out to enjoy some time together so I’ll leave you alone. All you have to do if you need anything is give me a call and I’ll be here in a jiffy.”

Eric walked away before Brenda could argue, which John was certain she was about to do, so he interrupted, “So, Mom, work’s been busy for you recently, you’ve been making sure to take breaks and stuff, right?”

The two continued to talk mostly about nothing, a little of school and work, and then Brenda recounted plenty of embarrassing stories from their past visits to the place.

“... and then we had to take you and Lee home soaking wet after fishing you both out of the lake.” Brenda laughed.

Eric laughed as he approached. “Yeah those two were little devils back then. Sorry to interrupt, I just thought I’d let you know Kathy has your table set up whenever you are ready.”

Brenda whipped a tear away as her laughter died down, but not before picking up one last time. “Thanks, Eric, we’ll head up now.”

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