The Dinner Party

He held the rumpled box of fruit cake in his trembling hands, and told himself it was only the cold that made him shiver, but he knew in truth it was the nerves. Having gotten himself just a few paces from the entrance, his feet felt like cinderblocks when he thought of taking those last few steps to the door. The warm glow of light from the window spread onto the snow, the muffled sound of voices laughing inside. He didn't deserve this reward.

Not after all he'd done to hurt them. The pain HE had caused. When he first encountered them again after all those years of bile, the cookies shared with him were a universal kindness, a gift for the whole room to enjoy and simply not denied to anyone, even a former enemy. A politeness to ensure their days of direct animosity has passed. A peace placed over old history. Then the advice provided was charity, and the referral to a steady job that got him back on his feet had been a generosity beyond expectation.

But this - to invite him into the sanctity of their own home - no, it must be a mistake. They couldn't really want him here. Surely, asking to join their friends at holiday dinner must be a gesture meant to be declined. He'd just been foolish enough to follow through. And even if he was not misreading their intention, even if he was welcome, it was a mistake for them to make this offer -- an implication of forgiveness he knew was beyond impossible.

A taxicab pulled up behind him, and he watched three glittering people step out. A man with a perfectly tailored suit, while a gorgeous woman dressed in a silky gown and heels adorned each arm. Now these were the kind of people you wanted at your parties. The ones who had it all together in life, who could exude an aura of beauty and wealth, the smiles of good company and carefree conversation. In his muddy boots and tattered scarf, scars and scowls, there was nothing he could boast of compared to them.

Except... what were they even doing here? This kind of classiness wouldn't dare to be seen at a ramshackle house in the slums of the city - they must have gotten turned around, somehow botched a street name. He was about to ask if they were lost, offer proper directions before their cab could drive off and abandon them to become innocent prey in a sketchy part of town. And yet, they carried themselves with full confidence towards the doorway. Towards the same door he was facing up against.

The man's hair flipped charmingly, and his gaze was steady as his grin. "Well, hello! You must be here for Abe's dinner party." He could only nod, dumbfounded. "Then don't keep freezing your toes off in this cold, let's get inside! I'd offer to lend you a lady, but let me be first to admit that I'm entirely at their mercy." They stroked his arms flirtatiously. One leaned in to kiss her companion's cheek but the other flicked her fingers playfully. "Well truth be told, I've always found bad boys irresistible... and it looks like this one's gotten himself into some trouble." She slipped away from the man she came with, and wrapped her arms around HIS this time. Batted her eyes expectantly. "Looks like you'll have some enticing stories for me."

Despite the allure, he struggled to maintain a clear head. Something about this scenario didn't add up. Maybe they didn't have the full information about where exactly they were walking into. "H-how well do you know Abe? Are you a recent friend? Because he's, we've, been embroiled in some dangerous business in the past, and though it was a long time ago, I just want to say if you're not prepared for what you're getting yourself into..." At that, the man laughed heartily. "Yeah, well the media was calling him a terrorist at the time, even if he insisted it was only righting wrongs for the horrible torture that place put him through. I'd been reluctant roommates with him, went on a business trip for a month. Imagine coming home to all that drama. Finding out our favorite unbalanced psycho had essentially adopted a kid off the street, threatened the entire Laboratory system in no uncertain terms, and actually burned down a warehouse."

Shifting uncomfortably in his boots, he eyed the ladies with concern, but they seemed completely unphased by the wild direction this conversation had taken. "Oh, don't mind us. We were the next-door neighbors."

The man went on: "They filled me in on all the developments I'd missed, helped me deal with the fallout from it. But now, these many years later..." he shrugged, "we reconnected. Ran into him at a diner with his protege. Still a strange guy, but he's a changed man. A compassionate one."

Or the problem could be with him. "Are you sure you can look past these things? What he did, what we did? That last one was my fault too. The warehouse."

After a moment of confusion, the man's eyes widened in shock, realization, and his face broke into a delighted grin. "Oh, oh, oh! You're the gangster in the story! My God, isn't that just like him, to befriend his mortal enemy. When he turned to faith, I never expected him to take it that literally, but here we are. What a romp! My name's Donnovan, by the way. Malorie's the beauty beside me."

"I'm Adessa," the lady at his side beamed at him. He noticed she had not loosened her hold on his arm throughout the story, except to support the cake box as he shook hands with the others. "Simon," he told them.

And with that, they swept him up the path, teasing that Adessa would try to take credit for his fruit cake at the potluck if he wasn't careful. Asking more about his work with Abe at the factory.

When he knocked, their hosts opened the door with a smile and a hug, bringing him inside.