In the Details

by H. Claire Taylor

  When the waiter came by their table on the terrace, Jessica ordered a large club salad and a beer with lime, and Judith seemed to approve of the healthy choice. After all, Jessica was here because Judith wanted her to start making healthier choices. You know, like an intervention. (But because it was Judith, it was a low-key one.) The woman had said as much at work the other day when she caught Jessica stuffing a scalding hot snickerdoodle into her mouth and chewing through the tears.

  “Judith’s been telling me about how much you’ve been doing lately,” Brian Foster said, sipping his apple cider vinegar cocktail and doing a fine job of pretending to enjoy it. “I’m glad you could take some time to unwind with us.”

  Jessica smiled at the odd couple, thinking about all the ways she would prefer to unwind besides being a third wheel. Except she hadn’t done any of those other ways, and she likely wouldn’t. She needed someone else to force her to take a breath and pause while she dug herself out of the ditch Mrs. Thomas had left her in.

  “Yeah, it’s been a long month.”

  Brian leaned back, tossing an arm over the back of his wooden chair and reaching around Judith’s to rub lazy circles on her back. “I should have—” He paused, bit his lips as if to reconsider, then bulled ahead. “I should have done more to warn you against working with Dolores.”

  Jessica squeezed the last few drops of lime into her beer, wondering if that was close to enough vitamin C for the day. “Trust me, you haven’t exactly hidden your dislike. I was just stupid to ask her to do me a favor like hiring all my staff. I should have done it myself. At the very least, I should have checked in with them more. That way I could have stemmed the damage. I’m an idiot.”

  “Not an idiot. Trust me. Now that I work with her again, I’m treated to a front-row seat of highly educated adults trusting her implicitly. You know she actually does the hiring for our district?”

  “Shit, really?”

  “Yeah. And she’s done a really good job of it … so far.”

  Jessica inspected him. “What do you mean, ‘so far’?”

  “I just mean people who are reliably unreliable never let anyone down, do they? It’s the ones that are unreliably unreliable that leave our heads spinning.”

  “I guess?” God love the man, but he needed to lay off the Kierkegaard, a name Jessica was only familiar with due to the quote from him Judith had tattooed on her inner thigh.

  The fact that Mrs. Thomas did in fact seem to be good at hiring, and now did it as part of her job, only fueled Jessica’s festering suspicion that she was, as the woman had said, the main reason why things didn’t work out with Kumal, Sampson, and Dwayne.

  “It’s unfortunate you still have to maintain a business relationship with her,” Brian continued.

  “It’s not that bad,” Jessica said quickly. “I mean, yeah, maybe she didn’t hire the best guys for the job, but she still did me a favor, and I wouldn’t have the bakery at all without her. I’m not sure I’m ready to write her off entirely for one mistake. We all know I’ve made bigger ones.”

  Brian gave a be-that-as-it-may shrug, and changed the subject. “Judith said you had a plan for getting back on your feet.”

  “I have a plan, sure, but I don’t know how to get started on it.”

  Judith groaned. “Yes, you do. Wendy already gave you the full scoop on how to go about it. Cash is dying for you to give them the photo ops they need. All you have to do is do.”

  “Okay,” Jessica said, opening her eyes wide and finishing off her first beer. “Looks like someone doesn’t have any more patience for my bullshit.”

  “I’m surprised you still do,” Judith said. “No offense, but you’ve spent the last month looking and acting like a fucking zombie. Unless your plan is Lazarus performance art to draw crowds, I suggest you take the much easier route that Wendy suggested.”

  Brian asked, “And the much easier route is …?”

  “Play up my notoriety,” Jessica said. Even saying the words drained her. Sure, she’d determined it was the best course of action when Mrs. Thomas had offered her more money, and, yes, Wendy had practically begged her to do this for years, but when it came time to actually step into that role, Jessica couldn’t find her footing. Maybe the first step was the hardest, but she suspected the second, third and fourth would be awkward and unpleasant as well. It simply wasn’t in her McCloud DNA to own a specialness she had done nothing to earn.

  Brian nodded slowly, staring at their wrought iron table illuminated by the string lights overhead. “I can see why you would resist that, Jessica.”

  “See?” Jessica said. “He gets it. I tell you, Brian, it sure is nice to have someone who was around for the Jameson Fractal debacle.”

  “You mean the assassination? Please,” said Judith, “I remember that. It was all anyone at my school talked about.”

  “Yeah, but you weren’t there,” Jessica snipped. “And even though Brian wasn’t at the rally, he was lucky enough to have me unload on him the next week.”

  Brian leaned forward again, clasping his hands together on the table. “That was five years ago, Jessica. I know it’s traumatic, but look how far you’ve come in that time. You can risk it again. The odds of Jameson Fractal, or anyone, being assassinated as a result are … not incredibly high.”

  Judith smacked his arm. “‘Not incredibly high’?” she hissed. “Wow, I can’t imagine why you were only a college counselor for one year.”

  “Excuse me.” The deep, honey-smooth voice just behind Jessica’s shoulder made her whirl around, preparing for an assault.

  Instead, she found herself staring up into soft, dark eyes that were locked onto hers. “Yes?” she said.

  This stranger’s gaze was a laser. “You’re Jessica McCloud, right?”

  She ignored her impulse to tell him no, that there was a mistake, and she was definitely not the person he’d been sent to murder. Instead, as she observed his long lashes, his full lips and inhaled a gentle whiff of tastefully applied cologne, she said, “Yeah.”

  A beautiful smile bloomed on his caramel face. “Hi. Anthony Aguilar.” He moved around to the side and dropped down to squat by their round table, inserting himself between her and Brian.

  The name didn’t ring a bell in the slightest, but she continued to stare at him in a not entirely hostile manner.

  “It’s, um, it’s so great to meet you,” he said. “I’m a big fan.”

  “Of what?” she said dumbly.

  He blinked a few times, his eyebrows pinching together. “Of you.”

  “Me?” She struggled to follow along. “Cool.”

  She was vaguely aware of Judith’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t decipher the woman’s expression in her peripherals.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner. I just thought it was you, and I couldn’t believe my eyes, and I jumped up and ran over here before I realized how rude it must be.”

  “It’s okay,” Jessica said. “It’s nice meeting you, Nathan.”

  “Anthony.”

  “Right, sorry. Anthony.”

  His eyes finally left Jessica for the first time to dart over to the empty seat. “I, um—”

  Judith cut in. “Would you like to—”

  “Come by the bakery if you get a chance,” Jessica said. “I’ll give you a free coffee.”

  Anthony’s attention returned to Jessica. “Oh, uh, yeah. For sure.”

  “‘Kay,” Jessica said, giving him her best customer service grin.

  But he didn’t leave. Why wasn’t he getting the hint?

  He cringed slightly as he added, “Do you mind if I get a picture with you?”

  Judith answered for her. “Sure! I’ll take it.” She jumped up and extended her arm toward Anthony, who handed over his phone eagerly.

  Jessica immediately wished she’d put more effort into her appearance.

  “Jessica,” Judith barked. “Stand up.”

  “Oh, right.” She scooted her chair out and stood
just as Anthony was beginning to crouch. She swallowed hard and apologized as he straightened up.

  Judith took her sweet time on the framing. “Scoot in a little closer.”

  They did, their arms brushing against each other’s. Goosebumps sprang up on Jessica’s. When was the last time she’d been this close to someone like Anthony? Sure, she’d taken all kinds of pictures with people in It is Risen, but context was everything. Out here in the night air, under the string lights, the sound of drunken decisions wafting in on the breeze, was a completely different experience.

  “You can put your arm around her, Anthony. It’s fine. She doesn’t mind,” Judith said.

  Brian reached behind Anthony, grabbed Jessica’s wrist, and moved her arm around the fan’s waist.

  “Smile!” and Jessica knew it was directed specifically at her.

  Jessica let out the breath she’d been holding while being so close to the handsome stranger and nodded dumbly as he thanked her and said he’d stop by the bakery before he left town. When he finally returned to his table, Jessica was relieved she’d made it through the awkward part. And she hadn’t done too poorly, if she did say so herself.

  But when she turned back to her dinner companions, she found Brian with his head in his hands and Judith staring at her openmouthed, shaking her head slowly from side to side.

  Clearly, they didn’t agree with Jessica’s assessment. “What?”

  Brian groaned into his hands.

  “That,” Judith began, “was a train wreck.”

  “What? Why? Was the picture not good?”

  Judith rolled her head over toward her boyfriend, and the two exchanged a look. “Was the picture not good?” Judith mumbled. “Jessica, you holy disaster, the picture was fine. It was everything else that was a nightmare. How has Wendy not quit?”

  “Be nice,” Brian warned.

  “Yeah,” Jessica said. “Be nice. It wasn’t that bad.”

  Judith leaned over the table. “You know he wanted to sit down, right? He was looking for an invite.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Were we looking at the same guy just now? Because Anthony might have been a male model, and not the gay kind. The rare, one-in-a-million straight kind.” She turned to Brian. “Sorry.”

  “No, no. He was hot. I would have gone for it.”

  Before Jessica could inquire, Judith asked her, “You know what would have happened if he’d sat down?”

  Jessica shrugged. “More awkward conversation?”

  “Exactly,” Judith said, “which would have eventually led to awkward sex, and let me tell you, Jess, with as stressed out as you’ve been, even awkward sex is a step up.”

  “Except,” Jessica said quietly, “you know I can’t have sex.”

  Judith deflated. “Ugh … right. Because God cockblocks you.”

  “What’s this?” Brian asked.

  Never in a million years would the high schooler she used to be have imagined filling in Mr. Foster on her sexual woes. “I can’t have sex with anyone. When they try, God sort of, um …”

  “Melts their stick of butter,” Judith finished.

  Brian’s head tilted to the left as his eyes widened. “That … is … the most horrible thing I’ve ever heard. You and Chris never did then?”

  Jessica explained the big picture of dream sex, and when she was done, Judith added, “Even still, that’s not a reason to avoid dating other people. There are plenty of fun things you can do in a relationship that don’t involve vaginal sex.”

  “Like oral sex,” Brian offered. “Sometimes it’s better.”

  “Please stop there,” Jessica said, avoiding looking at him.

  The waiter dropped off their food at the best and worst moment. Best because it stopped the conversation, but worst because Jessica had mostly lost her appetite.

  As she started on a fresh beer, Judith said, “If you’re not ready to move on from Chris, fine, but I swear to your Father, Jessica, I can’t bear to see another awkward encounter like the one that just happened. If you don’t get better with fans, I will straight up quit working for you.”

  “Fine, fine,” Jessica said. “I’ll see what I can do on that front.” She sighed. Hiring someone new was out of the question, and Judith was her second-best employee.

  It was clear this proposed solution would only work if she put some conscious effort into learning the ins and outs of human interaction with strangers who worshipped her.

  Would have been nice if you’d given me that gift along with the curse.

  But God wasn’t listening. Big shocker.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Local Female Business Owner Victimized by Male Scammers.

  It was the headline Wendy and Maria had developed together to breathe life into It is Risen, and it worked like a charm. Jessica’s initial unwillingness to sign off on it, hesitant to assume the role of victim rather than crappy boss, was washed away after the first few days of increased sales made their way down the tributaries of commerce, straight into her aquifer of debt.

  Whatever stain Kumal’s nightmare circus of a website might have left on her reputation was promptly scrubbed clean. Quentin explained that the damage was probably minimal if anything, because Kumal, along with having no understanding of basic decency or Photoshop, also didn’t know anything about SEO. Neither did Jessica, and Quentin refrained from explaining it to her, for which she was grateful.

  While she got a thrill of publicly shaming Kumal, Sampson, and Dwayne for their part in her unfortunate financial predicament, she’d drawn a hard line when it came to Mrs. Thomas. The woman wasn’t to be named or even hinted at in the article. After all, she was still an investor. And besides, Jessica was only inches away from forgiving her.

  Of course, with increased business came more things to do to keep the place running smoothly, and Jess knew that it wouldn’t be long before she needed to hire a third barista to free up more of her time for managerial tasks.

  And all the while, more and more customers were asking for a picture with her. Maybe that was because she’d stopped charging for it, finally accepting Cash’s argument that the publicity was more valuable than the ten dollars. But she suspected it was also due to an openness and acceptance of the situation. She’d stopped fighting it. She’d made up her mind: she was going to accept being a local celebrity. Now, when people asked her if she was really the daughter of God, she answered in the affirmative and pretended she didn’t hate the fact. She didn’t go on about it, obviously, but provided them with a simple, “Yes, I am.” That was enough for most.

  And for those who inquired further, she’d learned to simply pretend they hadn’t said anything, pose for the picture until they got the hint and shut up, and then she’d thank them and give them a gentle push on the small of their back to send them off.

  After weeks of it, though, the increased work load and the higher demand for her to be personable pulled her in two directions, stretching her like a piece of dough, and she was starting to feel a bit thin in places.

  When Jameson Fractal sauntered into It is Risen that sunny day in late September, just as Jessica was organizing the cups and lids at the drink station, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hug him or dive behind the counter and hope Destinee would get the hint and take over until he was gone.

  Ultimately, indecision won out, and the latter option evaporated as soon as he pulled off his sunglasses and spotted her. And as he did, the customers spotted him. She watched as their eyes tracked his path toward her.

  “Hey there,” he said, with a warm intimacy that hinted they were former lovers who’d left on unrealistically good terms.

  “Hi,” she said abruptly, like they were strangers who’d never inhabited the same planet.

  He pulled her into a hug, and who was she to refuse?

  Once she was in his arms, she made a fatal mistake: she inhaled his scent. Somehow, he’d managed to smell the same since the first time she’d met him on that platform in the hospita
l parking lot in Midland, Texas. Emotionally speaking, there was a lot for her to unpack with every whiff of him, too much at present, especially while he was whispering instructions into her ear.

  “Relax and smile. Everyone’s watching. I’ll take the lead.” He pulled back, leaving his hands on her shoulders as he stared into her eyes.

  She mustered a shit-eating grin and hoped it would suffice.

  “I’m starving,” he said. “Anything new I need to try?” He led her toward the counter, and she felt much more in her element once she was on one side and he was on the other.

  “We have a pistachio danish,” she said, walking the length of the display case to where she’d set them out that morning. When she looked up, though, he wasn’t facing her on the opposite side. Instead, he’d stopped in his tracks at the start of the display.

  He hunched over, his face so close to the case it made Jessica’s fingers itchy for a bottle of glass cleaner and a rag.

  “You’ve gotten so much better at this,” he said. “You can even see some of your freckles now.” He pointed toward the cookies. “Or maybe those are chocolate chips.” He straightened. “Still not as beautiful as you, but what can you expect from a pastry?”

  Jessica swallowed hard, and she was glad for once that someone was filming them. (In fact, it was half a dozen someones with their phones held out shamelessly.) She’d have to search for the clips later to verify that Jameson Fractal had, in fact, just called her beautiful.

  She slid open the case. “So, did you want the pistachio danish, or …?”

  “Yeah, that sounds great,” he replied casually, taking in his surroundings and nodding politely at a few oglers.

  Jessica plated it for him and faced a conundrum when she brought it to the counter: Did she charge him?

  On the one hand, she was living in his condo for free, so obviously she shouldn’t.

  But on the other hand, no one here knew that context, and if she didn’t require him to pay, it might look like there was some sort of favoritism, like celebrities eat free, and …