"WOO-HOO-HOO! Look at you. Showered, shaved, and suited. You sure it’s just Carol's mother you’re going to see?"
"Yeah, yeah,” Reg waved him off, pouting a grin. “How is Gloria and ... hold on a second, let me check in with sis first."
"Go ahead, player, I’ll order up. The usual?"
"Yeah, yeah."
Reuben signaled the stout, greasy-aproned counter man. “"Mi compadre, two potato eggs with swine on the side."
'Krissy's Red Lion Diner,' the neon sign read on the inside of the large, rectangular window, looking out onto the street. Brandishing a wide grin and prideful swell, Reg liked to stop on the other side of that sign and stare inside. He would reminisce about the scrawny lilliputian he protected growing up, and the split lip he got for challenging the schoolyard bully, when he tried to look up his sister’s dress.
Amazing how shy and withdrawn she used to be, that at 28, she would be running her own place. Kris was three years his junior and already reaching for the stars. The last time they spoke she was thinking about renting the bakery shop next door for expansion. The owner was being evicted over a lease dispute.
Reg stopped before entering the swinging double doors leading to the kitchen. He turned to survey the main dining area. If his sister changed something and had to tell him about it, as was the case twice before, she would be miffed. Not overly so, but it pinged at her confidence.
He read her disappointing expressions as—‘If you don’t notice alterations in my life, maybe you don’t care for me like you used to.’ With him being so consumed with Carol’s leaving and the Animal's antics, he had no doubt the sentiment was growing.
He scanned the imitation marble counter, flanked by its traditional red stools. Nothing new. He stared carefully at the checkerboard tiled floor, as well as the booths across from the counter stools. Again, nothing. He knew it was something, noticeable when he walked in, but what? Geez, nine years on the force and crimes scenes, this should be whipped cream. He glanced up at the ceiling.
"Got you this time, sis."
Reg sauntered through the waiter doors to the kitchen area. The penetrating aroma of an assortment of breakfast foods made his empty morning stomach growl louder. He considered assaulting the Accu-Steam grill, and participating in a Nathan’s style eating contest. Two things stopped him. Rafael, the world's most territorial cook, would cleave off his fingers. His sister would cleave off the rest. He made a right turn instead down the short corridor to Kris’ office, and knocked on the door.
"Busy, Rafael." The rushed response came from inside the office. "Come back in fifteen minutes."
"Health Inspector, ma'am," Reg said, sounding as official as he could.
"Health Inspector? You people were here last week." Kris opened the door. Her tight lips curled upward. "Reggie!" She jumped in his arms.
"Whoa sis, whoa." Reg gasped for air under her vice grip around his neck. "I’ll let you pass the inspection, if you let me breathe."
Kris unwrapped from around him and pinched his goatee hair between thumb and forefinger. "Right after I pluck all these little hairs off your chin, Mr. Health Inspector."
"Ow." Reg massaged his chin when she let go. "You do this to all the people with the power to shut you down?"
"Stop it, big baby, like I could really hurt you. That Health Inspector stunt wasn’t funny, by the way. I have had it up to here with those guys."
“Doubt some guy checking grease traps could ruffle you."
"Maybe not ruffle, but irritate," she said.
Reg sat stiffly in the small wooden chair in front of her desk. "When are you going to get a better chair in here for visitors?" He bounced up and opted for the low-back recliner, against the far wall.
"I don’t want anyone feeling comfortable sitting across from me. This is my office and I want people to know that, especially your fellow Inspectors."
If getting this far didn't do it, that statement told Reg all he needed to know. She wasn’t little Krissy anymore, who needed to be protected from the world. It would take a bus-load of Health Inspectors to get under grown up Krissy’s skin. He watched her make her way behind her L-shaped desk, with the padded high chair, and began to feel that sense of pride in the well of his chest again.
"The pleasantries behind us, where the hell were you? I’ve been leaving messages all week.”
"Look, sis, I'm sorry ..."
"Don't sorry me,” she snapped, “I don't want to hear it. You promised you wouldn’t flake on me again.”
His week-long gin bender had managed to do what a busload of her nemeses couldn’t. He was under her skin.
"I get it. You aren’t exactly yourself with everything that is going on."
Kris got up from behind her desk and picked up the uncomfortable chair. She lugged it over to the recliner and sat in front of him. Gazing tenderly into his eyes, she took one of his hands in hers.
“That doesn’t mean there aren’t people who care about you, people who want to help you through this."
"Sis—"
"Let me finish." She held both his hands, one in each of hers. "It seems like there are only dreary days ahead without her. But I love you my brother and will not let you fall into the abyss. If that means giving up this place to give you my full attention, I will."
Reg wanted to shield his pain from her. He wanted to pull his hands away and say, Come on, sis, I’ll be okay. He couldn’t.
She said, “I leaned on you for years. It’s time I returned the favor."
His sister hugged him tight. He didn’t tell her to let go.