Free Little Fish by Kari Ware

I.
    After we had gotten off the phone, I spent the entire night thinking about how our conversation the next day would play out. Obviously, I would explain myself as to why I was even at the strip club to begin with and how it was all Anna's fault; That she had come across the hallway to my apartment piss drunk and needed a ride to meet up with her cousin's bachelorette party, and that I, unable to say no to my disheveled neighbor, had brought her to Showponies. I hadn't been there before; Hell, I'd never even heard of it before, but the memory of the illuminated pink sign with a riding crop for an 'I' was enough to make my nose wrinkle. I never would have imagined walking in and seeing Calder on stage, stripped down to a G-string with gun holsters at his sides and wearing the broadest grin I'd ever seen him wear. It was truly surreal. And awkward.
    I dressed for work the next morning: A plain white t-shirt and faded denim shorts, cutting the worn strings off that dangled along my thighs. I threw my overbearing curls into a high ponytail and ran my kohl-colored eyeliner pencil over my eyelids quickly, then blinked on a fair amount of mascara. Feeling I looked at least somewhat decent after completely oversleeping my alarm, I threw on my pink Nike's and hurried out the door, and it wasn't until I was almost completely down the street to the front door of Agacelli's that I realized I'd left my phone and purse sitting on the couch in my apartment. I realized quickly it would be one of those days.
    Calder was already sitting at the booth by the window, luckily in my section. I smiled at him, and he gave me a small wave. He looked almost as unkempt as I felt: His black hair looked mussed and almost dirty, and he wore a very casual plaid button down that could almost pass for a pajama shirt. There was a five o'clock shadow on his face, which I'd never seen him sport before. I grabbed my apron out of the drawer behind the counter tied it around my waist as I walked towards him.
    "Hey. Morning. Coffee?" I asked quickly, realizing after it left my lips how anxious I actually sounded, and Calder smiled at me. He leaned back against his booth seat, mussing his hair even more as he rested his elbow causally on the booth top.
    "Sure. Remember how I like it?"
    Two sugars and a cream. Of course I remembered. When you live with someone for three years, you tend to remember their habits. I grinned at him, turning on my heel and walking over to the coffee pot. After flipping the switch I spun around and looked out at the tables. We were relatively busy since it was Saturday morning, and almost all the other tables were full. Leila was the only other waitress working with me, her blonde ponytail flouncing carelessly as she bounded from table to table. Her cheeks were flushed; she was new and this was her first Saturday working. I remembered when I was like her.
    Once the pot was full, I grabbed a coffee mug and dumped in two packets of sugar and filled it to the brim. I filled it maybe a little too much, a few burning drops sloshing over and dripping on my hand. I clenched my teeth a little, setting it down in front of him and wiping my hand off. Calder glanced at it warily, and then looked back up at me with smiling brown eyes. "So I heard they got divorced."
    I knew that was coming. I sighed, nodding my head gently. "Yeah, it was finalized about three months ago. Your dad actually gave me the money for my first and last month's rent here."
    With that Calder chuckled, almost despite himself. "Anything to screw with Pauline, right?" He looked down into his mug and took a long, slow sip. I watched him silently. It was true: My mother was definitely not happy that her now ex-husband had opened the doorway for me to finally get out of her house. But I was twenty, no longer in the mood to stay at home and watch her drink away her third divorce. Dan Vidalia had been more of a dad to me than any of the others my mom had ever brought around, even if he