by Cassia Leo
I stare at her for a moment, trying to hold on to the anger and disgust I felt a moment ago, but I can’t. I sink down next to her and take her into my arms, where she sobs heavily for a while. And as I stroke her hair and wait for her to finish, I wonder how long Rory will wait to find out what’s inside that box.
August 24th
* * *
I take my time walking to my new workplace on Burnside, turning a seven-minute walk into a ten-minute leisurely stroll. The contents of the Sierra Nevada tin box are clinking around inside my backpack. It sounds like a ring, but I refuse to peek inside. If Houston would rather present it to me himself, he must have a good reason. And I’m pretty certain he knows I have no desire to be his mistress. Maybe whatever’s in the box is a sign that he’s leaving his wife.
Is that what I want? Do I want to be responsible for breaking up a marriage? Would it be fair to call me a home-wrecker if I haven’t actually had an affair with Houston and he was the one who pursued me?
I don’t know the answers to any of these questions. All I know is that I do miss Houston. He was my first love, my default best friend after Hallie died, my protector and provider, and, for a split second, the father of my unborn child. Of course I miss him and everything we had. That doesn’t mean that we belong together.
I enter the Zucker’s on Burnside through the front and my gaze lands on the plastic sheeting on my right. Behind the semi-transparent veil, people are moving inside the coffee bar. A signpost standing in front of the plastic shroud reads: Excuse our dust. New Zucker’s Café & Wine Bar coming soon!
I look left and spot a door behind the customer service counter, which must lead to an office. Jamie told me to ask for the store’s general manager, Benji. A blonde cashier spots my green Zucker’s T-shirt as she’s bagging some produce for a customer. She flashes me a warm smile and I return it.
“Is that Benji’s office?” I ask her, pointing at the door behind the customer service counter.
She nods. “Yep. He’s in there right now.”
“Thanks.”
I slip behind the counter and knock on the door. A few seconds pass before a guy’s face appears behind the small window set into the door at eye level. I can’t see him very well through the wire mesh between the window panes, but he looks pretty young to be a general manager.
The door opens inward and Benji smiles at me. “Are you Aurora?”
“Yeah, but everyone calls me Rory.”
He motions to a chair. “Well, have a seat, Rory, and I’ll get you up to speed. I’m Benji Zucker, by the way.”
I try to focus as Benji explains the job to me, but all I can think is that Grandpa Zucker must really trust his young grandkids to give them such powerful positions in the company. Benji is very friendly, which makes me think he was born, or bred, to do this kind of job. He doesn’t patronize me when he explains the magnitude of my new responsibilities. He turns his computer screen toward me so he can give me a tutorial on the new inventory system they implemented a few weeks ago. When he explains the tasks associated with vendor management, my eyes glaze over as I imagine trying to “manage” a relationship with Houston’s company.
“Rory?”
I blink a few times and smile. “Yes. Sorry, I got a little distracted. I was just thinking about the vendor management stuff. Does that entail meeting with vendors in person or would it just be phone meetings?”
He looks confused by my question. “Do you have an issue meeting with vendors?”
“No, no. I’m just, as you can tell, a bit awkward in person. I’m much better on the phone. But I have no problem meeting with vendors in person. I was just curious.” The skeptical look on his face tells me he’s not buying it. “I swear, I’m fine. I promise I’ll do a good job. You have nothing to worry about.”
He nods as he dials a number on his desk phone. I have a weird fantasy that he’s calling security to have me hauled out of here. This makes me grin and he smiles back at me.
“Bella, can you come get Rory from my office? She’s ready for you.” He sets the phone down on the cradle and smiles as he turns his computer monitor around so I can’t see the screen anymore. “Bella is the manager of the wine bar, but she’s four months pregnant. You’re going to have to pay close attention to what she does so you can take over when she goes on leave in five months. Do you think you can handle that?”
“Absolutely.”
He nods as he types something, then he pushes his keyboard aside and looks me in the eye. “I heard you’re a writer.”
This catches me off-guard. I’ve only mentioned my writing to Jamie once. I don’t know what that has to do with anything.
“Uh… I write sometimes. Not sure I’d call that being a writer.”
“But you know how to write? Like, you know the basic rules of grammar and stuff, right?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I hope so. I have a bachelor’s in English.”
“Cool. I might have a project for you that involves writing.”
“A work project?”
He flashes me a sheepish grin. “It’s a personal project. I… need help writing my wedding vows and Jamie recommended you. Is that okay? Obviously, you don’t need to do it if you’re not comfortable with it.”
“Yeah, totally. Anything I can do to help.”
“Cool. I’m getting married in three weeks and I’m shitting bricks over these vows.”
I open my mouth to reply, but I’m interrupted by a knock at the door. I stand quickly and begin smoothing down my T-shirt as if we’ve been caught doing something naughty. Bella is a tall, doe-eyed brunette with ample breasts and a small baby bump. Her perfectly understated makeup makes me feel a bit self-conscious about my lack of makeup. If a pregnant woman can take the time to look that good, I have no excuse not to.
Bella holds out her hand for me to shake. “I’m Bella.” She pats her belly, then glances at Benji. “And this little guy in here is Benjamin Jr.”
I turn to Benji and he’s grinning from ear to ear. “Bella and I are getting married in three weeks.”
I swallow hard as I realize I just agreed to write wedding vows for both of my bosses’ weddings. Great!
* * *
Bella and I spend a couple of hours in the stockroom updating inventory for use with the new software. All the while dodging construction workers who scurry back and forth from the warehouse to the stockroom then to the bar area, installing supply cabinets, patching drywall, connecting the plumbing for three different sinks. I make it through the first couple of hours of inventory management with ease. Then Bella informs me we have a city building inspector coming in at two p.m. to inspect the coolers in the basement where the draft beer will be stored. And a beer vendor is coming in to oversee the inspection. We work in silence a bit longer, scanning boxes of coffee syrup, tea, and coffee stirrers into the computer system, but my curiosity soon gets the best of me.
“So, this guy who’s coming to oversee the inspection… what company is he with?”
Bella chuckles, but she doesn’t look away from the box she’s scanning. “It’s called Barley Legal. I think it’s a cute name. And the guy’s über hot, too. Maybe you could, you know?” She sticks out her chest and jiggles her boobs a little. “Unless you’re not single, then disregard my advice.”
Heat rises into my cheeks, but I can’t tell if I’m blushing because she’s complimenting my ex-boyfriend or if I’m flushing with jealousy because she called him über hot. Either way, I need to figure out how I’m going to approach the situation when Houston gets here. Do I let him go about his business and pretend I don’t know him? Do I opt for honesty and tell Bella he’s my ex? Maybe the honest approach will help me get closer to Bella and get to know her better. Then I’ll be better equipped to help Benji write his vows.
Of course, getting in good with the boss is positive for my working environment, but how long do I actually plan to work here? The plan is to eventually make my living as a writer, isn’t it? That was t
he point of changing my major after Houston and I broke up, wasn’t it?
I shake my head as I scan a case of cinnamon syrup. Maybe I just want to stick my flag in Houston, claim him as mine again, if only in the past tense. That’s so pathetic.
On cue, my phone buzzes in my pocket and I quickly retrieve it, heart pounding as I imagine it’s Houston with his promise to show me the contents of the box when he comes in. But it’s not Houston. It’s Liam, with a text that makes me laugh so loud Bella drops her scanner gun.
* * *
Liam: In the most boring meeting of my life and thinking, this would be less boring if Rory and her ex-boyfriend were here.
* * *
Bella picks up the scanner gun and stares at me. “Well? What’s the joke?”
I shake my head. “It’s totally lame. Sort of an inside joke.”
“I wouldn’t get it?”
“Ugh. I hate when people say that, but it’s actually true. Here, you can read it.”
I hold my phone out with the screen pointed at her.
“So this guy, Liam,” she begins, not looking particularly impressed, “I take it the last time you two hooked up, your ex-boyfriend showed up and decked him, or you had a threesome. Which is it?”
I laugh as I stare at the text. “No violence or sex involved, but everything else is correct.”
She moves toward the door leading out to the warehouse. “No violence or sex? That must be a really boring meeting he’s in.”
I follow her into the warehouse and she takes me down to the basement, where the walk-in cooler was installed yesterday. She introduces me to a few stock boys along the way, waggling her eyebrows when one of the better-looking ones glances repeatedly at my boobs. Finally, we make it down to the cooler, which is installed below the wine bar. A notice on the steel door has the name of the company and the man who installed the cooler, the company phone number, and the date of the installation.
“Wait right here so you can greet the inspector when he comes down. That way I can stay up there in case any of those guys need anything.”
“But I don’t know anything about inspections or coolers.”
“You don’t have to. That’s why the Barley Legal dude and the installer are coming at the same time. They’ll talk to the inspector. You’re here in case they need a manager to sign off on something.”
I open my mouth to remind her that I’m not a manager, but I stop before I can make a fool of myself. “Got it. I’ll just wait here.”
Once Bella is gone, I pull my phone out of my pocket again to respond to Liam. It takes me seven excruciating minutes to come up with something remotely clever.
* * *
Me: I hope your next visit is less traumatic.
Liam: Next visit? Are you hitting on me? Don’t answer that. I accept. I’ll be there at 8.
* * *
I laugh as I tuck the phone back into my pocket. When I look up, I nearly jump out of my skin at the sight of Troy Bingham, Houston’s best friend through high school and college. They must run Barley Legal together. Is this the über hot guy Bella was referring to?
His blue eyes are bright with excitement. “Rory? Are you shitting me? Holy fuck. Look at you, girl.”
He holds his arms out for me to give him a hug. I give him a quick pat-on-the-back type of hug, but he holds on a few seconds longer than expected. He lets go and looks me up and down a couple of times, shaking his head.
“Houston told me he ran into you, but I didn’t really believe it. I mean, what are the fuckin’ odds, you working here while we’re setting this up?”
“Houston told you he ran into me?”
“Yeah, of course. He couldn’t keep that to himself. You know how crazy he was about you.”
My hands begin to shake, so I tuck them behind my back. “So… you’re here for the inspection?”
“Oh, yeah. You probably thought Houston was coming. He was supposed to, but he had some kind of emergency at home. I think there’s trouble in paradise, if you know what I mean.”
Is Troy trying to convince me to have an affair with Houston?
“I don’t really know,” I reply, unable to disguise the tremor in my voice. “I don’t know Houston anymore.”
“What are you talking about? Houston’s the same guy he always was, just richer.”
“And married-er.”
He shrugs as he chuckles. “If you can call it a marriage. Whatever. None of my business.”
“Or mine.”
“That’s debatable.”
“Excuse me?”
He waves off the comment. “Nothing. I was only kidding. So where’s the inspector?”
I draw in a deep breath to calm my nerves. “I was told he would be here at the same time as you and the installer. I don’t really know. This is my first day at this store.”
“I guess we’ll just wait, then.” He smiles as he tucks his hands into his jeans pockets and leans back against the steel door. “Rory, can you do me a favor?”
“What kind of favor?”
“Can you not tell Houston what I said about his marriage? The thing is… He spoke to me about you in confidence and, to be totally fucking honest, I’ve never liked his wife. I guess I let my personal feelings about her get away from me. I shouldn’t have said that stuff about his marriage being on the rocks. I don’t know if that’s true.”
I’m silent for a moment as I try to remember what it was like not to want Houston. I wish I could call him right now and ask him if there’s any truth to Troy’s assertions. What kind of emergency at home kept him from coming here today? Did something happen to his wife? Did she find out about his visit to my apartment last night?
Or maybe Houston just didn’t want to see me today.
“No worries,” I say, leaning against the door. “Anyway, Houston’s marriage is none of my business.”
After a stiff, awkward silence, Troy turns to me and smiles. “But I wasn’t lying when I said he was crazy about you… And if you ask me, he still is.”
August 24th
* * *
After my first day as the assistant manager of the former coffee bar slash soon-to-be wine-slash-coffee bar, Benji sends me off with a worn, folded sheet of paper containing his best intentions. I’m tempted to read his attempt at wedding vows on the walk home, but I’m afraid the light rain will ruin the thin, worn paper. The moment I walk inside my apartment, my mom greets me at the door with Skippy. The salacious grin on her face is a bit frightening.
I set my backpack containing Benji’s vows and the Sierra Nevada box on the breakfast bar and crouch down to smooch Skippy. His tongue makes a loud clopping noise as he laps my face, his tail wagging so hard his whole butt shimmies from side to side. Holding my arms out for a hug, I smile when he lays his paws on my shoulders like a good pup. Then I squeeze him hard, burying my nose in his black fur as he whines and continues to lick my cheek and ear.
“I know, buddy. I missed you, too.” I let him go and get to my feet, trying to ignore the backpack as I make my way into the kitchen. “Did you check his blood glucose? And why are you so happy?”
My mom follows closely behind me. “Yes, I did, twenty minutes ago. He’s fine for now. And I heard you had a man here last night. Actually, two men.”
I roll my eyes as I imagine Mrs. Vernor from across the hall standing inside her door last night, listening to what was going on in the corridor. Then she took it upon herself to pass the juicy gossip onto my mom today.
“It was nothing. Just a couple of friends.”
“Since when do you have boyfriends?”
“Not boyfriends. Just friends who happen to be guys.”
I pour myself a glass of water from the tap and gulp it down, leaving the glass in the sink to use it later. As expected, my mom pushes me aside so she can wash it now. She hates the sight of dirty dishes in the sink.
“Don’t play coy with me, Rory. And don’t be so secretive. It’s good to talk about your love life. It helps
you work out problems you might not be able to work out on your own.”
“Who says I’m having problems? And who says I have a love life?”
“Well, you’re going to have to work pretty hard to maintain a love life if you bottle everything up.”
For a moment, I consider telling my mom everything that happened last night with Houston and Liam. Then I remember how much she hated Houston after he broke my heart. She may have been a strict grammarian during her days as a schoolteacher, but she threw all the rules of language out the window when she spoke of him during that time. Of course, it probably had to do with the fact that she was so stressed over the divorce at the time. She was on a man-hating kick for a while there.
“Why are you so concerned with me getting a boyfriend? It’s been five years since you and dad divorced and you’re still single.”
“That’s different. I’m old. I’ve done the whole marriage, career, family thing. I can take my time finding my next partner.”
I shake my head as I head for the bedroom with Skippy and my mom trailing right behind. “That’s such a load of crap, Mom. If anything, being old means you have less time to find your next partner. I’m the one who can take my time. I’m twenty-four. I have at least fifty or sixty good years left in me. You’re fifty-one, Mom. You’re the one who needs to get laid.”
“Rory!” She grabs a pillow off my bed and throws it at me. “Watch your mouth.”
I laugh as I grab a pair of clean skinny jeans and a T-shirt out of the closet then head for the bathroom. My mom watches me curiously, probably waiting for me to tell her why I’m taking a shower right after work instead of right before bed, the way I’ve done it all my life. Finally, I move to close the bathroom door and she stops it with her hand.
