Page 33 of Scar

* * *

[WiseWave620: Jenna’s been really exhausted since coming back from Disney. She says she’s fine, but I’m really worried. I’ve been doing a lot of research into MS and seeing if there’s maybe a specialist she can see or maybe a drug trial I can get her into.]

[WiseWave620: I wish the human body was like computers, but it’s not like I can heal her with code.]

* * *

Scar tookthe plate of food into Tally’s office. Her desk was a disorganized mess. It was a major contradiction to everywhere else in her life. He put the plate down on a filing cabinet as he walked around to look at her piles of paperwork. One stack had braille punched onto a thick piece of paper and an inked page stapled behind each. Interesting. The machine at the corner of her desk reminded him of the fax machines he’d seen in his youth.

Unlike those machines, there was no screen or number pad. All of the instructions on it were in braille. After turning it on, he picked up a piece of paper from the stack that didn’t have the braille marks. He had to wonder how someone who was blind knew which direction to feed the piece of paper. For that matter, what happened if the piece of paper was two sided?

He fed the paper into the machine. The first paper did not come out the bottom as he expected but instead looped through a rolling scanner before coming out the back. Inside the machine whirred, and he heard a series of clicks before a thicker piece of paper was ejected out of the bottom feed.

Following the pattern Tally had already started, Scar stapled the two together, careful to place the staple in the very top left corner where she had the others. As the dinner staff started getting ready to reopen their doors, Scar worked to help organize her desk. He’d watched her get more and more frustrated as the week passed and she’d been unable to complete the necessary tasks required to run her business.

The entire time he worked, his eyes kept glancing up at the plate with the salad and sandwich she’d made for him. He hadn’t eaten yet that day. His body was used to fasting and being around good smelling food usually didn’t tempt him. But hewantedto try her food. The food she’d made forhim.

“If you’re hoping for a free meal, you’re SOL, asshole. I only give free food to my friends.”Her words from that first morning in her apartment echoed in his mind.

People said that the eyes were the pathway to the soul. Scar couldn’t argue that he could easily read people’s intents and emotions through their eyes. Tally’s eyes were, for lack of a better word,dead. They were inanimate, fake. They could no more tell him what she was thinking than what she was feeling.

And yet, that did not make her any less expressive. If anything, it made hermoreexpressive. Tally didn’t do things like nod her head or shake it. The little visual cues and idioms that people did naturally, having picked up on as kids, but that didn’t make her emotionless. Watching Tally’s expression was like watching a child’s in a way. Kids didn’t know to hide and it was refreshing to see her openness.

Something had been different today. He didn’t know how to describe it except to call it the way shelookedat him, which he knew was inaccurate. It had been the way she defended his presence to her best friend and the uttercertaintythat he would not harm her.

Without him having to say a word, without her seeing the sincerity on his face, she’d understood.

Scar knew the food Tally had given him was clean. He’d watched her prepare the meal and she wouldn’t have the standing she did with the health department if her kitchen wasn’t kept so perfectly sanitary. He’d been given food before. Jenna had been trying to get Scar to eat for years and yet he’d resisted that food. Sissy knew better than to offer him food, but she did get him water and would get annoyed when he didn’t drink it in front of her.

His eyes fell on the sandwich.

He turned away, continuing to clean up Tally’s desk. To his surprise, a laptop was underneath all the paperwork. He supposed using a laptop was no different than learning to use a cell phone, but he still found it impressive.

The noises from the kitchen and dining area picked up as time moved on. Scar finished up organizing her desk, turned off the braille machine, and was still fighting with himself about eating Tally’s food when he heard voices coming down the hallway towards the office.

“…have time for this, Mark.” That was Tally’s voice. While annoyed, she did not sound afraid or in pain.

Scar made a running jump. His boot hit the brick wall of the office, and with a mighty push, Scar was able to reach the four inch square support beam up above. He used the momentum of the jump to swing himself up and over. His boots hit the beam just as the office door opened to reveal Tally and Mark, her boyfriend.

Crouched precariously above them on his hands and feet, Scar scowled at the man. He worked in IT with Tally’s best friend’s husband, Tom. Based on their social media history, Tally and Mark had been dating for approximately two years.

Scar couldn’t find anythingwrongwith Mark, per se. The guy didn’t mistreat Tally in any way, as far as Scar could tell. But there was something about the man that Scar just did not like.

Maybe it was how he let Tally work long, stressful hours and then let her walk home at night alone. From what Scar had deduced, Tally had not told Simone about the attack the week before. Which meant there was a high possibility Mark didn’t know either. So if Mark didn’t know that Tally could fight, why was he not outside Tally’s restaurant every night to drive her home? Even if it was out of his way, even if it was past his bedtime, even if it cut into his schedule, why was he not there every single night for her?

Scar would be.

From his place above them, he listened to their conversation:

“I know you don’t have time to talk to me, Tally. Youneverhave time to talk to me. I’m starting to feel like I’m dating myself here, baby.”

Tally’s hand rested on the side of her desk. Her head tipped slightly as she then started to feel around it. After a moment, she brought her other hand up too. “I know I’ve been neglecting you, Mark. Iamsorry, but I don’t know how to fix it. Until I get certain things handled here, it won’t change. I understand if you want to take a break from this relationship?—”

“That is not what I am saying,” Mark insisted. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing?”

Tally had walked around her desk in a complete three-sixty and was now touching the stacks of paper Scar had organized for her. “Um, just looking for something.”

Mark snorted. “Hilarious,” he said dryly. “Fine, if you won’t talk to me now, will you please let me get you after work and take you to my apartment? We can open a bottle of wine, talk, and then go to bed.” He walked up behind Tally, wrapping his arms around her waist. Scar watched as the man pressed a kiss to Tally’s cheek. “I miss you, baby. I am trying to be supportive, but I really miss you.”