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Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. -Titus 2:3 (NIV)Melissa was sure she was being paranoid, and yet the look she got from the waiter as she and Natasha entered Eating For Two felt like one of the meanest looks she had ever gotten. It was like a “You don’t belong here,” type of look, which she supposed was technically true, but seemed weird in the context of two people entering an establishment called “Eating For Two.” They were seated without an issue, though, so the moment passed without too much discomfort, even if it remained on Melissa’s mind as the conversation turned elsewhere. “Have you been trying to get into this place for a while then?” Melissa asked. “They knew your name, and it didn’t seem like a Guardian thing. Did nobody else from your group want to come with?” Natasha shook her head and got to typing. “Hasn’t been open long. Tried to get in before just myself. It was the first place I thought of.” By the time she’d finished typing all that, the waiter was back and waiting expectantly for their drink orders. Melissa nodded a measure of understanding of Natasha’s situation up to this point and then nodded at the waiter. “Um,” she said, still thinking about the look she’d gotten and wanting to fit in. “Do you know what a Bloody Mary is?” The waiter just stared at her. Melissa wilted in her seat a little. “Like, tomato juice and I think vodka, but with a bunch of garnishes. I don’t know what all goes in -” “Yes. I am familiar with what you are describing, but we do not call it that here. And I would need to see some form of identification indicating-” Melissa quickly waved away the question with a frantic gesture. “No no, um, I wanted to order a Virgin Mary, actually. Like, without the vodka. And not bloody either, um, so I was wondering if that could be replaced with something else like a spicy ginger beer or something.” The fact that the waiter had to repeat her order back to her was a bad sign. Melissa was entirely inexperienced in the world of cocktails. Communion wine was her only real experience with alcohol, of course, so she wasn’t sure how “ginger beer with lemon juice, lime juice, pickle juice, horseradish, Tabasco, Worcestershire sauce, pepper, and a celery stick” was going to taste, but the waiter said that they would have it right up and Melissa didn’t want to take it back at that point. Natasha, meanwhile, simply pointed at the drink menu, and a holographic image appeared on the table indicating her selection. “That’s nifty,” Melissa said as the waiter walked away. She tried it with a few other drinks, all of which looked much more appetizing than what she had just concocted. “I should probably order some water too, when the waiter comes back,” she said. “I just wanted- this seemed like the place to be fancy, and I know who the Virgin Mary is, obviously, so I kind of just defaulted to that. This keeps happening to me. I- One time, I somehow made a friend put honey in her coffee, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over myself for that.” Natasha seemed confused. Melissa worried that she might have gotten lost somewhere in that whole ramble, but Natasha simply typed out a single word: “Mary?” Did Natasha know that that single name could cause so much strife? Melissa nearly launched into another whole ramble simply on instinct, but she just managed to catch herself with the reminder that evangelizing a woman she had met only twice was not a thing that would get her to meet for a third time. Unless Natasha was genuinely curious, of course -- and why shouldn’t she help a wayward soul find her way to the light of Jesus? -- but that would require at least a bit more clarification, which seemed rude when Natasha had asked for clarification first. Melissa made some sort of involuntary gurgling sound, but she decided to split the difference. “So, um, ‘Bloody Mary’ was a person -- a queen, I think -- but the name is mostly used now as a children’s horror prank. The Virgin Mary, meanwhile, is a prominent figure in my religion as the mother of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.” She intentionally left out the parts there that Natasha probably would have found distasteful, unless Natasha was okay with fourteen-year-old pregnancies, which was not something Melissa wanted to get into. Natasha just smiled, a bit sheepishly. “I know of Jesus,” she typed. “Sofia says that when she’s surprised.” “Sofia” was not a name Melissa had heard before. She had met Salvo and she knew that she and Salvo shared a religion, and she knew Salvo and Natasha were in the same group, so it could have been Salvo’s real name or something, but the possibility of a third person excited Melissa. She just hoped Sofia was not one of the denominations that had irreconcilable differences with Catholicism. Not all of them had survived the dome, but there were still pockets. Instead of prying into all that, Melissa just said, “You should try and get more out of her, like a ‘Jesus, Joseph and Mary!’ and maybe an ‘And all the saints!’ for good measure if it’s a real surprise.” Natasha’s smile changed to one of bemusement. “Perhaps I will,” she typed, and just in time, as the waiter returned and asked for their order. Melissa looked down at the menu and realized just how much of it she hadn’t read yet. She put her finger on a random item and a massive bowl of noodles materialized in front of her. “Oh, that’s… I wouldn’t be able to eat all of that,” Melissa said. Maybe that was why she got such a look from the waiter as she’d entered the restaurant. She wasn’t such a serious eater after all. But until such a time happened that she was thrown out for such an injustice (or at least the injustice of the drink that was now sitting in front of her, with its thick sauce bubbles on top of the soda), Melissa did try to persevere. “Um, there’s no leftovers, so did you want to share something, Natasha? I get the feeling I’ll get stabbed if we try and get an extra serving bowl, but I can just eat out of yours or you eat out of mine or, um… I don’t have any dietary restrictions, so whatever looks good to you…”

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The Last Stardust