Lord of Perverted Ladies

Adrian woke up to the sound of someone arguing with a toaster.

He lay still for several seconds.

Then he opened his eyes.

The ceiling was familiar. The blanket was familiar. The faint smell of tea coming from the kitchen was familiar.

The argument was not.

“I followed the instructions!” Noah shouted.

Lena replied, “The instructions say not to put metal inside it!”

“It’s a butter knife!”

“It’s a metal butter knife!”

Adrian covered his face with his pillow.

He had survived the beginning of existence.

He had faced beings who questioned the right of anything to exist.

He had accepted that he couldn’t control the choices of people he loved.

Apparently, none of those accomplishments had prepared him for breakfast.

He got out of bed.

By the time he reached the kitchen, Noah was standing beside the toaster with the expression of a man who had discovered a fundamental flaw in the universe.

Lena was holding the toaster’s unplugged power cord.

“What happened?” Adrian asked.

“Nothing,” Noah said.

“Something happened,” Lena replied.

“The toaster is defective.”

“The toaster is fine.”

“It nearly killed me.”

“You put a knife inside it!”

“I was trying to get the bread out!”

“With a knife!”

Adrian looked at the toaster.

Then at the knife.

Then at Noah.

“Have you considered using your fingers?”

Noah stared at him.

“You’re not helping.”

“I haven’t had breakfast yet. I’m not qualified to help anyone.”

Lena placed a plate on the table.

“Sit down. Both of you.”

Noah sat.

Adrian sat beside him.

For several minutes, they ate toast prepared by a woman who apparently understood that electrical appliances worked better when they weren’t stabbed.

Then Noah’s phone rang.

He checked the screen and frowned.

“That’s him.”

“Your coworker?” Adrian asked.

Noah nodded.

He hesitated before answering.

“Hello?”

A voice came through the phone, too faint for Adrian to understand. Noah listened, his expression changing gradually.

“What do you mean?”

Another pause.

“When did you find out?”

He stood up and walked toward the window.

“Wait. Slow down.”

Lena glanced at Adrian.

He shrugged.

Whatever had happened, it wasn’t their conversation to interrupt.

Noah listened for another minute.

Then he said, “Okay. Don’t do anything until I get there.”

He ended the call.

For a moment, he remained beside the window.

“Everything all right?” Lena asked.

“No.”

He turned toward them.

“The customer found out about the mistake before the company did. Apparently, someone sent them the wrong documents, and now they’re threatening to sue.”

“Was it your coworker’s mistake?” Adrian asked.

“Partly. He entered the wrong information, but someone else approved it without checking.”

“Who?”

Noah hesitated.

“My supervisor.”

Lena put down her cup.

“So your coworker wasn’t the only person responsible.”

“No.”

“Does your supervisor know?”

“Of course he knows. He approved the documents.”

Adrian leaned back.

“Then why is your coworker calling you?”

“Because the supervisor wants him to take responsibility for the entire thing.”

Silence settled over the table.

Noah looked down at his phone.

“He says if my coworker admits to making the mistake alone, the company can discipline him without involving the supervisor. If he doesn’t, they’ll investigate everyone who handled the documents.”

“And your coworker wants you to confirm that he was solely responsible?” Adrian asked.

“Yes.”

“Is that true?”

“No.”

Noah rubbed his forehead.

“I knew this was going to happen.”

Adrian remembered the conversation from the previous evening.

You can’t control that.

At the time, Noah had been worried about losing a friend.

Now the situation was worse. There was money involved, a customer who had been harmed, and a supervisor trying to protect himself.

The right choice had become more complicated.

Or perhaps the wrong choice had become more expensive.

“What are you going to do?” Lena asked.

Noah looked at her.

“I don’t know.”

For once, he didn’t sound embarrassed by the answer.

Adrian nodded.

“Then start with what you know.”

Noah frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“Your coworker made a mistake. Your supervisor approved it. The customer was harmed. You know these things are true.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t start by deciding who’s going to suffer. Start by making sure the facts aren’t hidden.”

Noah considered that.

“And if everyone loses their job?”

“Then they’ll have to deal with what happened. But don’t help someone lie just because the truth might be expensive.”

Noah was quiet for a moment.

Then he picked up his phone.

“I’m going to the office.”

Lena stood and began collecting the plates.

“Eat something first.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’ll be even less useful when you’re hungry.”

Noah looked at the remaining toast.

Then he sat down and ate it.

Adrian watched him, feeling an odd mixture of pride and concern.

Noah wasn’t going to solve everything. He might make the wrong decision. He might lose a friendship or discover that doing the right thing didn’t protect him from consequences.

But he was going to try.

That mattered.

After Noah left, Lena sat across from Adrian.

“You’ve been thinking about him a lot,” she said.

“He’s family.”

“I know.”

She rested her chin on her hand.

“Do you ever worry that you’ve started treating everyone like they’re a lesson you need to learn?”

Adrian blinked.

“What?”

“Every person you meet seems to teach you something. Mara taught you about responsibility. Noah taught you about fear. Michael taught you about sacrifice. Lena taught you—”

“Wait. Which Lena?”

She gave him a flat look.

“You know what I mean.”

He smiled.

“I do.”

“I’m serious, Adrian.”

Her expression softened.

“I don’t want you to turn the people in your life into answers. We’re not here to explain something to you. We’re just here.”

The words struck deeper than he expected.

He had spent so long looking for meaning in every encounter that he sometimes forgot people didn’t need to be meaningful to deserve his attention.

Mara had a brother she missed.

Noah had a difficult decision to make.

Lena had a book she wanted to finish and a list of groceries she kept forgetting to buy.

They were not pieces of a puzzle.

They were people.

Adrian reached across the table and took Lena’s hand.

“You’re right.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“That was suspiciously easy.”

“Would you prefer an argument?”

“Not before breakfast.”

“Then I’ll save it for lunch.”

She laughed.

He stayed with her until the dishes were washed and the apartment was tidy.

Then he went outside.

He didn’t have anywhere particular to go.

That was becoming a habit.

He walked through the streets, bought a cup of coffee from a small shop, and sat on a bench near a public garden.

A child was chasing pigeons.

An elderly man was reading a newspaper.

Two women were arguing about directions while looking at a map on a phone.

Nobody appeared to be concerned about the fundamental nature of existence.

Adrian envied them a little.

Then he realized he didn’t.

He liked his life.

Even the strange parts.

Especially the strange parts, perhaps.

He had once wanted certainty. He had wanted to understand every consequence before making a choice, to know every possible future before committing himself to one.

Now he was sitting on a bench, drinking mediocre coffee, watching a child fail to catch a pigeon.

The coffee was bitter.

The pigeon was faster than the child.

And the world continued.

His phone vibrated.

A message from Noah.

I told them what happened.

Another message arrived.

My supervisor says I’m making things worse.

Then:

My coworker is furious with me.

Adrian stared at the screen.

He typed a reply.

Are you okay?

Noah answered almost immediately.

No.

Adrian considered his response.

He could tell Noah that he had done the right thing. He could remind him that honesty mattered, that responsibility required courage, that the truth was worth defending.

Instead, he typed:

Do you want company?

The reply took longer this time.

Yes.

Adrian finished his coffee and stood up.

When he reached the office, Noah was waiting outside the building.

He looked exhausted.

“What happened?” Adrian asked.

“They’re investigating.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

Noah kicked a small stone across the pavement.

“My coworker won’t speak to me. My supervisor says I’ve damaged the team’s reputation. And the customer wants compensation.”

“That sounds difficult.”

“It is.”

Adrian stood beside him.

For a while, neither spoke.

Then Noah asked, “How do you know when you’ve done the right thing?”

Adrian looked at the building.

He thought about Mara. About the brother she had lost, and the apology she could no longer give him.

He thought about Michael, who had made his own choice and asked Adrian to respect it, even when that choice meant losing him.

He thought about every time he had tried to find an answer that would make pain unnecessary.

“I don’t think you always know,” he said.

Noah sighed.

“Of course.”

“But I think you can ask yourself a few questions.”

“Such as?”

“Did you tell the truth as you understood it? Did you consider the people who would be affected? Did you listen when someone pointed out something you hadn’t considered? And when you realized you’d made a mistake, were you willing to admit it?”

Noah nodded slowly.

“And if the answer to all of those is yes?”

“Then you still might have made the wrong decision.”

Noah turned toward him.

“You’re terrible at this.”

Adrian laughed.

“But at least you’ll know you tried to make the decision honestly. That’s not the same as being right. It’s just a better place to start.”

Noah looked back at the building.

“I hope you’re right.”

“So do I.”

They walked to a nearby café and sat down.

Noah ordered a sandwich he barely touched. Adrian ordered another coffee, regretted it immediately, and drank it anyway.

They talked about the investigation.

They talked about what Noah might say if his coworker confronted him.

They talked about the possibility that the company would blame everyone involved, regardless of what they had actually done.

Nothing was resolved.

When they finally left, Noah seemed no happier than before.

But he was breathing more easily.

At the entrance to the station, he stopped.

“Thanks for coming.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I know you couldn’t fix anything.”

Adrian smiled.

“That has never stopped me from showing up before.”

Noah looked at him for a moment.

Then he laughed.

“See you later.”

He walked away.

Adrian watched him go before turning toward home.

The afternoon sun had begun to descend behind the buildings. The streets were crowded with people returning from work, buying dinner, meeting friends, and making plans for tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

The word seemed almost absurdly ordinary.

There had been a time when Adrian thought of the future as a collection of possibilities he needed to understand. Every tomorrow was a question. Every decision was a door. Every door seemed to demand that he choose correctly.

But tomorrow didn’t require him to solve it in advance.

It would arrive whether he understood it or not.

There would be people who disappointed him.

People he disappointed.

Choices he regretted and others he would stand by even when they hurt.

He couldn’t prevent all of it.

He didn’t have to.

When Adrian reached the apartment, Lena was sitting on the sofa with her book open.

She looked up.

“How’s Noah?”

“Not great.”

“Did you fix it?”

“No.”

“Good.”

He stared at her.

“Good?”

She closed the book.

“If you had fixed it for him, he wouldn’t have learned anything.”

“That’s a terrible way to look at it.”

“Perhaps.”

She smiled.

“Come sit down.”

Adrian joined her.

She rested her head against his shoulder, and he put an arm around her.

Outside, the city moved toward evening.

Somewhere, Noah was dealing with the consequences of his decision.

Somewhere else, a person was making a choice Adrian would never know about.

And somewhere, there were questions he hadn’t yet encountered, waiting for him to become the sort of person who could face them.

He didn’t need to find them tonight.

Tonight, he stayed where he was.

Tomorrow could wait.

For now, he had nowhere else he needed to be.