The Sun Always Comes Out After the Storm

“Okay, this is your last chance to change your mind. Are you absolutely sure about the name?” Helen asked, her cursor hovering over the submit button. “Yes, I’m quite sure,” Bran said, his gaze brimming with determination. With a soft sigh and a small smile, Helen sent the email. “It’s done. The printer will receive the artwork, and they should have everything ready soon. Once the graphics arrive, we’ll install them and be all set for the grand opening.” “I can hardly believe we’re actually going to have a craft burger joint,” Bran said, his excitement palpable. “This never would have worked if you hadn’t been here.” “Don’t sell yourself short, Bran,” Helen replied. “But I will gladly take some of the credit. As I told you once, I’m very good at what I do.” Bran flushed slightly, his mind flashing back to the night they first met. He cleared his throat, refocusing. “Well, no, I’m not going to deny that.” “Look, the printer already replied,” Helen said excitedly, turning her monitor toward him. “They’ll have the sign and interior graphics ready the day after tomorrow. The menus, flyers, and everything else will be done in four days.” “Wow, that really is a lot of pieces. Wasn’t it a bit expensive?” “A little, but still not as much as what you invested in all this equipment,” Helen said, stretching her four arms. “Now we need to find some help. Running this place will be a lot of work for two people, even if one of them has four arms.” “I was thinking we’d need a kitchen assistant, two servers, and someone for the register. I just don’t know if we can afford all that right from the start.” “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Helen said confidently. “Besides my savings, I’ve got a little extra cash coming in for the moment.” “Extra money?” Bran asked, a note of worry in his voice. “What do you mean?” “It’s still a little sexy, but much less risqué than my old work,” she said with a mischievous smile. She typed an address into her browser. “Take a look.” Bran leaned in to see a MutantFans site, the screen filled with sensual photographs of a stunning red-haired mutant with five breasts and four arms. Her name was RAIN. “Th-that’s you?” Bran asked, unable to look away. “But what about your ears? And your tail?” “Oh, Bran. It’s just a wig and a little Photoshop magic.” “But why hide them?” “I’d rather not risk a fan recognizing me at our restaurant,” Helen explained. “Besides, if all goes well, I won’t be keeping this account much longer.” “Oh. Right, of course,” Bran replied, his eyes almost unconsciously scanning her online gallery. “Find something interesting?” Helen’s question snapped him from his trance. A mischievous glint was in her eye. “Do you think I look better as a redhead?” “What? No, it’s not that! Your white hair is beautiful,” he stammered, flustered. “Relax, I’m only teasing you,” Helen laughed. Then she leaned close to his ear and whispered, “But if you want, I could bring the wig home someday.” Bran’s face burned crimson. “I-I think we should hurry up and finish tidying the kitchen,” he said, standing abruptly. “You’re probably right. Let’s get to work,” Helen said, standing and rolling up her four sleeves. A few hours later, they had the kitchen organized and ready. Night had fallen outside, and they agreed their work was done. “Well, there’s not much else to do until the graphics arrive,” Bran mused. “Shall we focus on hiring tomorrow?” “Sounds perfect,” Helen said. “You know, I have a few girls in mind who could be great waitresses. That is, if you don’t mind having mutants on staff.” “My invaluable partner is a mutant. I think that answers your question,” Bran said. “For my part, I think I know who to call for the kitchen.” “Perfect. We’ll make the calls tomorrow at a more reasonable hour,” Helen said, giving a small, enthusiastic clap. They closed the restaurant and started walking. Helen’s new apartment was only a few blocks away, and Bran had gotten into the habit of accompanying her. “Thanks for walking me home,” Helen said as they reached her door. “I’d invite you up, but I think I left my red wig on the couch. We wouldn’t want to risk… unsettling you.” “Of course not! I mean, I like redheads, just like anyone else would.” “Hahaha, you admit it so easily!” Helen laughed. “…but I think your silver hair is more beautiful,” Bran said, his tender look causing her to blush. She tried to hide it with a smile, but Bran noticed and couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, I finally managed to make you blush.” “You just took me by surprise, that’s all,” Helen said, feigning annoyance. They stood in silence for a moment at the building’s entrance before she spoke again. “Bran…” she began, then paused. She gave a gentle shake of her head. “Tomorrow will be busy. You should go home and get some rest.” “…yes. Yes, of course. We have to find our helpers tomorrow,” Bran said, swallowing hard. “That’s right. Same time at the restaurant?” “Yeah. Same time at… STORMY’S,” Bran replied. “…I still can’t believe you insisted on using my stage name for the restaurant,” Helen said, bringing two of her hands to her face. “It means a lot to me. That snowstorm you found me in… it started all of this.” “You may be right… but it’s still embarrassing,” Helen laughed. She stepped closer and, before he could react, pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. “Good night. See you tomorrow.” “See you tomorrow,” Bran replied, watching her disappear into the building. A strange but pleasant pressure bloomed in his chest as he turned for home. “If all goes well,” he thought, gazing up at the city lights, “maybe I need to take another leap of faith.”