Chapter Text
Junior groans when he sees the garbage bag he forgot to take out earlier in the evening when he did the initial kitchen cleanup nearly two hours ago.
He just wants to go home. Terrance is in town this weekend, and he’s looking forward to spending the night relaxing and watching a movie with his boyfriend. But he knows he can't leave the bag. It will make him crazy all night, thinking about it sitting in the kitchen.
“Fuck it, fine.” He throws on his coat and laptop bag and grabs the garbage and Tupperware container of Alfajores, flicking off the kitchen lights as he goes. He’s already locked up in the front. He’ll just go out the back, toss the garbage, and go to his truck from there.
He pushes out the back door and into the alley when he hears a muffled “Shit, fuck, goddamn mother fucking Christ.” He tries to place where the voice is coming from but feels he must be mistaken when he finds himself standing in front of the dumpster. It’s only when he hears another “Shit” and what sounds like the slam of a hand on the inside of the bin that he realizes he is not hearing things.
“Hello?” he calls out. The noise from the inside of the dumpster suddenly stops. He waits for another beat and then says, “I know someone’s in there unless the raccoons have gained the ability to start swearin’ like sailors.”
Another second passes, and then he hears from inside, “Hey man, you don’t know, maybe I’m a really fuckin smart raccoon or something.” He can’t help but huff out a laugh. Whoever's in there at least has a sense of humor.
“So I’m guessin’ you’re trapped?”
He hears some more shuffling and mumbling, but finally, a voice that sounds far too young responds, “Well, I’m not hanging out here for the fucking ambiance.”
“Shit, you’re funny kid.” He laughs and starts looking around for something he can stand on. “Did you want some help gettin' out?
“First off, I’m not a kid, remember. Feral intelligent raccoon, you got right here. Second, I can get out on my own.” The kid tries to make their voice sound deeper, but it’s not fooling anyone.
He rolls over a heavy plastic garbage bin and turns it upside down. With practiced ease, he pulls himself on top and can easily see over the side of the dumpster. What he sees is most definitely a kid, a girl, as a matter of fact. Not a raccoon, though he won't write off the feral part yet. The look she’s given him is pretty fuckin wild. As soon as she sees his head peek over the side of the bin, she reaches into her pocket and flicks out a wicked little knife.
“Whooo there, hold your horses' kid. I’m not lookin' for a fight. I was just gonna see if ya need any help.” He puts his hands in the air so she can see they’re empty.
She backs up to the far side of the dumpster and presses herself to the wall. She’s maybe a little over five feet, petite and skinny (too skinny). He’d guess she was about 12, but she might be older. She’s got the look of a kid who’d missed her fair share of meals and thinks that may be affecting her growth. Her clothing is oversized on her, and while it’s mostly clean, it’s looking worse for wear. She’s got long brown wavey hair pulled into a ponytail and big brown eyes that are currently sharp with fear and aggression.
“Stay-stay back. I’m not afraid to use this.” She says, her hands surprisingly steady on the blade.
“Hey, kid, I promise I’m not lookin' to hurt ya. If you like, I can just throw this bin over and you can use it to get out. But it’s pretty heavy. I don’t know if you’ll be able to maneuver it.” The girl looks around the inside of the dumpster once more and then at him but just purses her lips.
“I’ll take my fucking chances on my own.” She says, a sharpness to her tone that speaks to her being used to fending for herself.
“Look, I don’t like the idea of leavin’ ya in here. Is there someone I can call for you? Mom, Dad, Legal guardian?”
“No. Like seriously, dude, I don’t need your help, okay, I’ve got this.” She says, pushing herself further into the corner of the bin.
“I can’t just leave you in there. This dumpster is right behind my bakery. If you get hurt in there, I could be held liable or some shit.” He explains while rubbing a hand absentmindedly on the back of his neck.
“Wait, you own Butterfly Bakery? Shit, man, your stuff is amazing!” The girl pops her knife closed and shoves it back into her pocket. “I mean, I only ever get the stuff you throw out at the end of the day, and that shit is good, so the fresh stuff has to be even better.”
“Ya, what?” He asks, his eyes just now taking in the ripped-open garbage bag near her feet.
She looks to where he’s looking and suddenly gets a flush on her cheeks. “It’s not a big deal. Food waste is like rampant. I’m just doing my part to combat it.”
“If you let me help you out, I have some Alfajores here. They were the leftovers from the last batch. I even have some coffee or tea in the kitchen?” He waves vaguely in the direction of the building behind her. “You’d be doin’ me a favor honestly. I can’t eat all these myself.”
She seems to think about it for another second but then decides. “Ah fuck it. But if you try anything..” She admonishes as she comes forward.
“Yeah, I know, stabby stabby.”
“So how we doing this?” She asks, looking up at him.
“Just give me your hands. I’ll pull you out.” She looks at him skeptically but shrugs and reaches up as far as possible. He grabs her hands and hoists her up, and over the edge, she squeals in surprise and almost knocks him off the bin. “Shit, hold still. I’m not gonna drop you.”
“Dude, that was so fast. Like, I get I’m small, but like, you're a baker. I didn’t expect you to be so strong.” He drops her gently to the ground, and she pulls back when he follows after. “Dude, how tall are you?”
“I’m 6’2””
“Fuck” She looks up at him and almost cowers back but then thinks better of it. Instead, she puffs herself up and plants her feet. “So where are those Alfawhatsas you were talking about?”
“It's al-fa-ho-res, and they're right here.” He goes over to the Tupperware container and picks it up. “Did you want some coffee or tea with them?”
“You can keep your bean and leaf water, yuck.” She says, scrunching her face with disgust.
“How bout some hot chocolate?” He asks,
“Now you’re speaking my language.” She grabs the Tupperware container from him and starts moving towards the back door to the bakery. “You comin?”
Kids scrappy, he’ll give that to her. “Geez, just grabbin’ stuff outta my hands. I don’t even know your name.” He jokes as he digs out his keys from his pocket and unlocks the door.
“Oh, it’s Ellie, now less talky and more chocolate deliciousness.” She says, popping open the top of the container and shoving a cookie in her mouth while walking right into the kitchen and plopping down on one of the stools against the counter.
“Ok, give me a minute, why don’t ya? I’m gonna grab the ingredients from the pantry. There’s a bathroom right there to your left if ya wanna wash up a little.” He points to the door as she spins around on the stool, shoving another cookie into her mouth.
“Thanks, man, mighty kind of ya.” She responds in an obviously poor attempt at his accent before she pops up to go to the bathroom, leaving the cookies but taking her backpack with her.
Junior hurries to the pantry and pulls out his phone, sending a quick text while he gathers the ingredients for the hot chocolate.
JT: Dad, I need your help with something. Can I call?
He stands leaning against the counter, nervously pulling at his eyebrow hairs while he waits. It's a bad habit of his, but he’s never been able to break himself of it.
Dad: Sure, Junior, anytime.
He dials, and his dad answers on the first ring.
“What’s wrong, Junior?” Worry permeates his dad’s voice.
“I found this girl, this kid, really. In the dumpster behind my shop. I think she might be homeless, Dad.” He peeks around the corner and sees that the bathroom door is still closed.
“Alright, she still in there?”
“No, I was able to lure her out with Hot Chocolate and Alfajores. Estoy preocupada por ella es flaca. She said she’s been eating the stuff that gets thrown away at the end of the day.”
“Shit, did you ask if she had anyone for you to call?” His dad asks. Junior can hear construction noises in the background, so he knows his dad must be at a site.
“I did and she said no. No se que hacer, Papi.”
“No te preocupes hijo, lo resolveremos. I’m gonna get Tess. Are ya at the Bakery?”
“Yeah, she’s cleanin' up in the bathroom.” Junior peeks again and can hear her singing in the bathroom while the water runs. “She’s a funny kid, dad. Swears like the guys on your crew, and she pulled a knife on me when she wasn’t sure if I meant her ill or not.”
“Heh, at least she’s got some survival instinct. She didn’t hurt ya, did she?” Junior can hear the concern immediately return in his father's tone.
“Nah, I offered food, and she put it away.”
“Okay, well, I got Tess, and she’s gonna call Marlene while we're drivin' over there.” He can hear Tess talking to someone, probably one of the other women in the office, telling them where they are going.
“Gracias papá, realmente lo aprecio.”
“No problem, kiddo. See ya soon.” Junior pushes off the counter and leaves the pantry, where he runs smack dab into the kid, Ellie.
“Fuck, you trying to scary me or something.” He says as he reels back from her ingredients spilling to the floor.
“No, sorry, I just heard you in here. Was that Spanish?” She asks as they dance around each other, each trying to pick up the dropped ingredients.
“Yeah, I was talkin’ to my dad. Why don’t you go sit back down. I’ll get this started.” He points back at the stool. She dumps the items she picked up back in his arms and moonwalks back to her seat, badly, so much so that she trips on her own feet and just manages to catch herself on the stool before she face-plants.
“So, like, does your dad only speak Spanish?” She asks while munching on another cookie, spraying crumbs everywhere.
Junior huffs a laugh as he pulls down a glass mixing bowl and a saucepan. “No, he speaks English too. We switch back and forth in my household. My dad’s parents are from Chile. They moved to America before he was born.”
He pours some milk and cornstarch into the glass bowl, mixes it until it forms a paste, then sets it aside.
“Ok, I hope you don’t mind if I say so, but you don’t look very Hispanic.” He turns to look at her, raising his eyebrows. She’s busy doodling in a sketchbook pulled from her backpack so she doesn't see his expression.
He sighs and pours some more milk into the saucepan turning on the stove to a medium low heat. “Well, my mom’s black, and I take after her more in coloring. But I got my nose and ears from my dad.”
“But, like, that's cool. You know where all your pieces and parts come from. Supposedly, I look like my mom, but I wouldn’t really know she died when I was born. Don’t know anything about my dad. He was gone long before I came into the picture. It’s gotta be nice being able to look in the mirror and go, Oh yeah, that's my great uncle so and so’s cheekbones.” Ellie aggressively slashes lines across the page of her sketchbook as she speaks, her forehead scrunched in concentration.
“I guess that’s true.” He says, breaking up some bittersweet chocolate into the warming milk. “So you’re an orphan? Do you have foster parents?” He asks, whisking the milk slowly as the chocolate dissolves.
“I was staying in a group home, but I bailed. They fucking sucked there, rules, rules all the damn time.” She puts on a sing-song voice as she continues. “Don’t fight with the other girls even though they steal your shit, make sure to keep your room clean and don’t talk back, or you get the belt. God forbid you dare to say anything to anyone about how you're being treated. Then you get no food for a week and a trip to the fucking basement.” Junior is so busy whisking the cornstarch and milk mixture into the saucepan that he almost misses what she says. When it finally registers, he spins his head around fast.
“They fucking did what?” He grits out.
She waves her hand as if it means nothing and scoffs to throw the point home. “It’s not that big a deal, dude. I’ve had worse at other places. That shit wasn’t even why I left.”
He finds his hand whisking the chocolate too briskly, so he forces himself to take it off the burner and put it to the side to cool. He wants to ask Ellie what worse has been done to her, but he also doesn't because part of him is scared to know. Instead, he goes across the kitchen and grabs the little porcelain cups he needs for the drink. He tries to count his breaths as he does, giving himself time to calm down. What the fuck is this state doing with these kids putting them in situations like this.
Usually, he might not believe the word of some kid he just met digging through his dumpster for food, but something about the straightforward way she delivered the information left no doubt in his mind that what she had said was true.
Returning to the chocolate, he pours the thick mixture into the cups. He then sprinkles some sugar in it for sweetness and sturs it in. He lifts one of the cups to his lips and tastes. It’s perfect sweet but not overly much.
He brings the cup over to her and places it down carefully. “Normally, I would pair this with some churros, but it's still good to drink on its own. It may be thicker than you’re used to, so…” He’s about to tell her to take it slow, but she’s already bringing it straight to her lips and takes a big chug. Her eyes get big, and she’s spluttering chocolate across herself and the counter.
“What the hell is this?” She asks, holding it away from herself as she grabs the paper towel he had pulled from the roll. She wipes herself off and returns the cup to her lips, taking a much smaller sip this time.
“It’s chocolate a la taza or Spanish hot chocolate. It's thicker and slightly less sweet but has a rich flavor.” He wipes down the rest of the counter as she takes small sips. “You can dip the Alfajores if ya like.”
She takes one of the cookies and does just that. After throwing away the soiled paper towel, he grabs his cup and leans back against the counter, crossing his feet at the ankle, watching her as he drinks.
She takes a bite of the chocolate-covered cookie, and her eyes close, a look of bliss smoothing her face, making her look like the kid she is.
Junior notices a small scar cut into her right eyebrow, and he immediately wonders if she got it at one of the homes she was staying at. She looks at him, her eyes sparkling, and he hides his anger at what may have been done to her behind another sip of his drink.
“This is fucking amazing. I was surprised with that first sip because, damn. But wow, I don’t think I’ve ever had anything this good.” She dips the last cookie in and devours it. She licks her fingers clean, looks at him, and then back to the empty Tupperware, her face sheepish. “Oh shit, Dude, I’m sorry I totally ate all of those.”
He smiles and waves her off. “A’int nothin’. I eat my stuff all day. I’m happy to see someone enjoyin’ the product.”
She smiles back but then looks at him while cocking her eyebrow with the little scar.
“Hey, I told you my name, but you never told me yours. I was told all of you people in Texas were super polite, and that doesn’t seem polite.” She asks while she uses the moistened tip of her fingers to pick up and lick cookie crumbs from the counter.
“It’s JT, but everyone just calls me Junior.” He responds, giving her another paper towel with a What the hell are ya doin’ look. She smirks, taking it from him, but uses it to clean the last of the crumbs.
“Why, Junior, and what the hell does JT stand for.”
“Well, JT stands for Joel Tomas. As to why they call me Junior, it’s because my dad’s name is Joel, makin’ me a Junior. So thus…” With a wave to himself, “Junior.”
“Ahh, I get it now.” She picks up her sketchbook, writes something on it, and tears out the page. Holding it out to him, she says, “Here as a thank you for the food.”
He takes it in his hand and looks to the quick drawing. It’s a picture of him waist up, standing at the stove, stirring the chocolate. It’s all fleeting, hasty lines, and smudged shading, but it’s actually really good. She’s managed to catch his features without being crisp, and the play of the light from the window in front of him with just a pencil is stunning.
“Damn, kid, this is amazing. I can’t believe you did this with so little time. Thank you.” He goes to put a hand on her shoulder but thinks better of it at the last second. She doesn’t know him from Adam and might not take too kindly to a strange man touching her.
“Ain’t nothin’,” She repeats him from earlier, again trying and purposefully failing at his accent. “Did you look at the autograph? Don’t forget this is an Ellie Williams original piece. So don’t lose it.”
He looks down at the page and sees it at the bottom. He reads it aloud: “To JT, the old guy who gave me cookies and kick as hot chocolate, thanks for everything. Ellie Williams.”
“Hey, I ain’t old. I just turned twenty.” He scoffs, and she giggles.
“If twenty’s old, then I must be ancient.” A deep voice says, coming from the back door.
Ellie looks up, suddenly alert. Her hand reaches to her pocket, where he knows she’s got her knife.
His Dad and Tess wander into the room, staying carefully by the door. Joel’s eyes range across the kitchen and catch on Ellie right away. He gives her a bright, crooked smile and waves to Junior.
Joel’s dressed in his everyday work attire: a worn pair of dark wash jeans, a T-shirt (Green today), and his steel-toed work boots. Having come from the site office, Tess is dressed in professional black slacks, a red silk blouse, and a pair of sling-back heels.
“So you the one given my kid the sass?” Joel says, addressing Ellie. “Not sayin' he don’t deserve it. Sometimes, he gets a little too big for his britches.”
“I don’t know what half of that even fucking means,” Ellie says, looking to Junior. Her hand is still near her pocket, but she has a hesitant smile on her lips.
“It's a southern thing.” He laughs at her raised eyebrow and says, “Ellie, this is my Dad and Mom, Joel and Tess Miller. Mom and Dad, this is Ellie.”
“Well, it’s mighty nice to meet ya, little lady,” Joel says, dipping deep into his Texas drawl, playing it up just a touch. Ellie can’t hold back a surprised giggle when he tips his head to her like he’s got a cowboy hat on.
Tess rolls her eyes and moves past Joel to put her purse and keys on the kitchen's center island. She puts her hands on her hips, gives Ellie a stern look, and asks her in a no-nonsense voice, “So, how old are you, kid?”
Ellie sits up straighter on the stool and stares right back. “I’m 14, what’s it to you?”
Tess clicks her tongue and tilts her head while she looks Ellie over from head to toe. “Just wandering how a 14-year-old feral kid got into my son’s dumpster. You don’t sound like you’re from here.”
Ellie glares at her. “Well, you don’t sound like you’re from here either.”
Tess just curves a corner of her mouth, gives her a look like “Really,” and holds her ground. Ellie surprisingly gives in.
“I’m from Boston.” She mumbles, picking at the cuticles on her right hand.
“How the hell did you get here from Boston?” Joel asks as he comes up behind Tess and lays a hand on her back. Tess relaxes her stare on Ellie and lets her arms fall back to her sides.
“I got a ride,” Ellie says in a clipt tone.
“Like with a friend?” Tess asks.
“Sure, you could say that,” Ellie responds, looking anywhere but at the two adults before her.
“What does that mean?” Joel asks calmly, keeping his voice low and smooth. Junior can tell he’s trying not to put Ellie on edge.
“Well, we weren't really friends when we started the drive, but by hour 2 or 3, we were thick as thieves.” She says but then adds, “I’ll amend that. Frank and I got on just fine, but Bill was an ass the whole way done. Frank told me not to worry about it, though, because supposedly he’s like that with everyone.”
“So you rode all the way down to Texas from Boston in a car with two men you didn’t know?” Tess asks incredulously.
“Whatever, and it was actually a moving truck. Bill and Frank were moving down here from their house in Lincoln, Mass. Frank said something about the winters being too hard on their old bones or something. So when they saw me hitching on the side of the road, they offered me a ride, and well, Texas seemed as good a place as any.” Ellie replies while fiddling with a purple alien-looking keychain on her backpack.
Joel and Tess look at each other, and then Tess says with some admiration, “Wow. Well, I mean, you got some balls on you, sister.”
“Thanks,” Ellie says, blushing a little.
“But I’m not going to recommend that as a regular thing you should be doing.” Tess continues.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Ellie responds, spinning herself around on the stool again, looking more relaxed after Tess’s praise.
“Do ya got someplace to stay tonight, Kiddo?” Joel asks.
“I’ve been staying at this lovely 4-star hotel just down the street.” She throws out as she stands up and moves away from the three adults, shoving her sketchbook into her backpack. “I really should be getting back there.”
“Have ya now? What's the name of the place? I’m pretty familiar with the area. Maybe we can give you a ride.” Joel says, looking at Junior, where he’s trying to move in such a way as to block the way to the back door without really stopping her. He doesn’t want to make her feel trapped, but he also doesn't want to let her go back out there when he’s pretty sure she has nowhere to go.
“It doesn't have like a consistent address or anything. It's like those pop-up restaurants; they text you an address when your room’s ready, and you have to find it from there. It's like a scavenger hunt, and hotel stay all wrapped up in one. Really fun, highly recommend it you should try it sometime.” She says in a rush as she tries to dart for the door.
“Ellie, wait!” Junior calls to her because he knows he won't be able to make it to the door quickly enough to block it. “My uncle Tommy’s makin’ Tamales tonight. Do ya wanna come with us and have some?”
Ellie pauses her hand on the door. Nobody moves as she fiddles with the handle.
“We can drop you off here after. So you can go to your pop-up hotel,” Junior says. He can tell she's nervous and hopes she'll buy into the meal if he plays along with her little lie.
“Well, I’ve never really had Tommyalez. I am hungry.” She says, stepping away from the door and turning back to face them.
“Well first off its tuh-maa-leez.” Joel says with a deep laugh, “And second, it's a shame that the first ones you’re going to get to have are my little brothers. Now, my Tamales are far superior, I tell you.”
“Joel, leave your damn brother alone. His Tamales are perfectly acceptable.” Tess says as she grapes her keys and purse and goes to the back door.
Joel looks at Ellie and winks. “Now, Ellie, I ask you, would you rather have somethin’ that’s just perfectly acceptable or somethin’ that’s transcendent.” Ellie covers her mouth as she tries not to laugh at the eyebrow waggle Joel gives her.
“Papá trascendente realmente? No llenes la cabeza de esta chica con tonterías. Le diré al tío Tommy si no paras.” Junior says as he dumps the used dishes and saucepan into the sink. He’ll wash them tomorrow when he gets in. He’s got more important stuff to deal with right now.
“Come on, Texas, let's get going,” Tess says to Joel, giving him a quick kiss on the chin before she opens the back door. “Ellie, would you like to ride with us or be more comfortable riding with Junior?
Ellie looks at the three and finally addresses Junior. “Is it okay if I ride with your parents?”
“Course it is, Ellie,” Junior says, scooping up his laptop bag and keys as he turns the kitchen lights off.
“It’s nothing personal or anything,” Ellie says, scuffing her shoes on the floor.
He ushers her out the door, locking it behind them. “Really, it’s ok, Ellie. It will give me a chance to call my boyfriend and see if he wants to meet us for dinner at my Tio’s place.”
He’s almost to the end of the alley where his parents are waiting before he realizes that Ellie’s not behind him. He turns around quizically and finds her still standing by the back door, staring at him with her mouth open.
“You’re gay?” She asks.
“Well, actually, I’m Pan. Is that gonna be a problem?” He asks. She didn’t strike him as the bigoted type, but you never really know with people sometimes, so he waits her out.
She sputters and immediately starts waving her hands and shaking her head. “It’s not a problem at all. I guess I’m just surprised.”
“What? I don’t look like I’d be into guys?” He teases.
“NO, No. I didn’t mean it that way.” She turns red as she runs up to join the rest of them.
“It’s Okay Ellie. I’m just givin’ ya a hard time. I know I don’t seem like the type. You’re not the first person to say it.” Ellie’s silent as the little group approaches the only two trucks left in the parking lot.
“I’m actually going to ride with JT if that’s okay with you guys,” Ellie says once they start getting into the vehicles.
“Sure, that’s fine with us, Kid. But are you sure?” Tess asks, gently putting her hand on Ellie’s elbow.
“Yeah. I don’t mind riding with him. It…. it wasn’t a good reason for not wanting to in the first place.” She says, giving a tight smile. “He’ll probably have way better music to listen to anyway, what with you guys being old farts.”
“Hey, I have excellent test in music,” Joel says while turning on his truck. Country music starts playing on the radio. Ellie leans to the side to eyeball Joel, and Tess rolls her eyes as if to say see what I have to work with here.
With a final pat on Ellie’s arm, Tess gets into Joel’s truck. “See you at the house, Junior. Drive safe, and tell Terrence we hope to see him there.” Joel says out the window as they start to pull away
“Will do, Dad.” He calls after and waves.
He opens the door to the passenger side of his truck and turns to Ellie. “Have you ever heard of a little someone named Lady Gaga? I just got her new CD. Wanna listen to it on the way over.”
Ellie’s face breaks into a huge grin, and she says as she climbs into the truck's cab. “Oh Fuck yeah, I love her. Crank it!”
Starting the truck, they smile at each other as Applause starts to play on the stereo. Junior nods to Ellie, and she spins the dial to 11.