A Fresh Start (Joe x Orel Moral Orel Fanfic)

Chapter 9

3rd POV

Orel watched Joe walk to his truck, the sun shining through the clouds onto his tenth generation Ford F-150. As his vehicle bellowed, Orel could sense Doughy behind him.

"Are you friends with Joe?" Orel shook his head. "No, our relationship is purely professional. I simply had to have a talk with him about his child; why does it matter?"

Doughy narrowed his brow. "You go to his house to have a talk with him? Don't you remember how he used to treat us?"

"That was the past," Orel said. "We were kids, maybe he has changed since then. Its not fair to hold a grudge against someone for so long." His stomach rumbled quietly, yet was just loud enough for both men to hear. "Please, let's finish dinner. Its been a long day."

Doughy bit his tongue, feeling deep resentment but deciding that it wasn't worth it to argue with Orel.

-

Todd laid out the three essential utensils where a cloth and plate was placed, four for Orel, Lucy, Doughy, and himself. He sat down at his usual spot, right next to where Lucy sits. Doughy brought over a bowl of non-burnt green beans and set them in the middle of the table, then took a seat across from Todd.

Orel carried a pan full of freshly cooked salmon over to Todds plate and stuck a fork into a piece, bringing it down to his dish. He did the same with the other three plates. "Todd, may you please pass the green beans?" Orel asked.

"Yup!" The boy finished scooping green beans out of the bowl and stretched his arms over to Orel, handing it to him.

Orel filled his plate and then set the leftovers on the table. Everyone began to eat, a heavy silence filling the room. Doughys mind was racing, yet he couldn't find the courage to cut the tension and bring up something that could potentially start a quarrel.

The home phone started ringing. Orel politely excused himself and went into the living room to pick up the call. He barely recognized the number; no one ever called his home phone.

Nevertheless, he answered it, and he heard his aging mother on the other end. "Orel? Hello?"

He sighed. "Hi, Bloberta."

"I- I need your help, please. I've got this old cabinet I need to sell, and," her voice had a quiver, like she was nervous. "its very big. Your brothers are busy, you know and, I need someone to help me bring it out. Outside, tomorrow. I can give you some money."

Orel thought of his response for a moment, thinking about if he was going to be busy the next day. "Alright, I think I can help you. It would be best if I could come at around 11, after church."

She agreed, giving her thanks before hanging up. He walked back into the kitchen and everything was as it was when he left; quiet and tense.

Doughy must've overheard their conversation, as he had a worried look on his face when Orel sat down.

"Uhm," he set his fork down and lowered his voice. "that was Bloberta..?"

"Yea, she just needs my help with something." Orel read Doughys expression and he leaned towards him, staying emotionless. "It'll be fine. You know she's harmless, and besides, she doesn't remember anything anyways."

Doughy still felt hesitant, but he respected his friend's decision. "I guess so..."

-

Bloberta sat in a rickety rocking chair with her cross-stitching supplies in her lap. Everything seemed to be fairly kept; the carpet, although old, still maintained some cleanliness, and all the furniture looked like it had barely been used.