by K. M. Galvin
I followed her back into the living room as she took a seat in her recliner, my dad moving to the identical one next to hers. I ignored her comment and stood in front of the TV to make sure I had their attention.
“So something interesting happened today.” I began. My mom and dad were both playing on their phones. “Excuse me, may I have an audience, your majesties?”
“Always so dramatic, Marisol. What happened?” My dad put his phone down and gave me his attention; my mom waved me on still looking at her phone.
I rolled my eyes. “I got a job!” I tried to sound really enthusiastic in order to soften the impending blow.
“You did!” My dad exclaimed.
“Oh honey, that’s fantastic news!” Mom echoed, giving me her full attention now.
“Yeah, I think so too.” I said, fidgeting under their enthusiasm.
“So what’s your position? What company?” My dad asked.
I realized that I could lie in this moment. I could make up some swanky job title at some large company and it would be all impressive and brag-worthy. And then I realized that while I did have a flair for the dramatic, I couldn’t lie worth a damn. By the end of the lie I would be the newest brain surgeon at Mayo Clinic, saving lives, and making a million dollars a year. I couldn’t help myself. So I told them the truth.
“Well it’s not set in stone yet, but I have an interview on Monday to be a nanny for this woman and her son.”
My dad looked confused. “A nanny?”
“Yeah. Just for now, you know, until I can find something better. Something to do and make some money.”
“Mari, I get it, but I don’t feel like you gave searching for a real job enough time.”
Breathe, Marisol, just breathe. “I’m not giving up looking, Dad, I’m just going to do this in the meantime.” I looked at my mom, but she just looked at me and nodded along with what my dad was saying.
“Well I guess you made your decision. There’s nothing I can say.” He went back to looking on his phone. Would he really prefer I do nothing?
“I’m sorry.” I said, feeling helpless.
“Don’t be.” My mom said and winked at me. “It’s money. Your father just has sometimes unreasonably high expectations for you.” I couldn’t decide if that was supposed to make me feel better or not.
“Well I’m sending out my resume still and if something better comes along I’ll look into it, but I’m not turning down a job because it doesn’t require me to wear a suit or work in a cubicle with hundreds of other people like mice.”
“Ok, Mari.” This was all I got from my dad. I was being dismissed and it burned my ass.
“I’m going to visit Kayla this weekend. I’ll be back on Sunday night.” I said, starting towards the stairs.
“Oh! That’ll be fun! Tell her we miss her, she needs to come home soon.”
“I’ll pass that along, Mom.” I headed into “my” room.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next morning I got up early, showered, dressed and actually put some effort into my appearance. I had on some dark wash skinny jeans and a floral print blouse I picked up from Target with some gladiator sandals. I put my contacts in and the mascara, liner, and shadow made my blue eyes glow.
My long brown hair was pulled into a braid that fell off my shoulder as I leaned towards the mirror to put gloss on my lips. The top was slightly fuller than the bottom and it made me look like I was pouting for a kiss. I think it’s childish looking, but guys seem to love them so I try to embrace them with lip-gloss whenever I’m dressing up.
I grabbed my overnight bag and made my way down the stairs, hopping down the last step. I felt good today, partly because I was leaving my prison, and partly because I was going to see my sis. My parents were at the kitchen table sipping coffee and turned when I landed at the bottom of the stairs.
“You’ve done that since you could climb stairs.” My dad laughed. I blushed because there were some things I just couldn’t leave behind from childhood.
“Honey! You look so nice! Are you going to be meeting any boys this weekend?” One-track mind meet my mother. She’s been trying to marry me off since I turned eighteen.
“Maybe, I don’t know what the plans are yet.” I shrugged noncommittally.
“You know, there are plenty of people getting married at your age.” She continued.
“Mom, please.” I glance at my dad for some help.
“Or if you wanted to start a family you don’t even need a man!”
“Oh, Jesus.” I slapped my hand over my eyes. She just didn’t give up.
“Frannie, I believe a man is still needed in that case too. Leave her alone, that will happen when she’s ready. And I don’t think, after this little job as a nanny begins, she’ll want to do that anytime soon.”
“But artificial insemination is huge right now-“she argued. Good God, somebody please, have mercy on me. She was talking about it as if it was some Hollywood trend.
“Ok, well I’m going to leave now. I’ll all you when I get there.” I walked to them and kissed both their cheeks.
I grabbed my bag and walked outside to my car. I was throwing my bag in the back seat when my phone rang. I looked at the screen and almost had an aneurysm. Jason was calling me. I stared at it a moment and then clicked talk.
“Uh hello?” My voice sounded shaky, I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to calm down.
“Marisol?” his voice sounded gruff. I looked at the clock and saw it was about 8am. Did he call me when he just woke up?
“Hey, Bartender.”
“Jason.” He corrected.
“Bartender Jason.” I smirked. I liked to rile him up. Only fair considering…
“Listen, have you left for St. Augustine yet?” He asked, ignoring me. I blinked in surprise.
“How did you know I’m going there today?” I asked warily.
“You told my sister on the phone last night and my sister told me.” I glared at my reflection in the rearview mirror. “I can practically feel you glaring at me.” He chuckled.
“Glad to amuse you!” I snarled.
“Oh you do.” I could feel his smirk now.
“What do you need Jason?”
“Well I was wondering if you wanted to carpool? I was planning on visiting my friends and I figured we could split gas and since I know the area pretty well I can help you navigate. Plus I make an awesome traveling companion.”
“Uh-“I stuttered.
“Come on, Marisol, it’ll be fun!” He coaxed.
“I don’t know.” I hesitated. “This is all getting very scary Lifetime movie.”
“Marisol, we might as well get to know each other better. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other soon, I promise I make a fantastic friend.” He cajoled.
“I’m sure you do.” I rolled my eyes.
“Come on…”
“Ok, fine. Text me your address, I’m leaving now so you better hurry up and get your ass in gear Bartender, I won’t wait on you.” I warned.
“I wouldn’t expect you too. I’ll see you soon, Marisol.” He said my name like a caress and if he didn’t just call us friends and I didn’t know better, I would think he was flirting.
I hung up without saying goodbye. I waited all of five seconds before I received his text giving me his address to his apartment, about a ten-minute ride. Throwing my car into reverse, I resigned myself to the fact that this guy wasn’t going to disappear from my life. The universe enjoys my embarrassment too much for that.
I pulled up to the call box and scrolled until I found Jason Scott. I pushed call and waited for him to buzz me in.
“Mari?”
“Yep!”
“Ok it’s building 200, I’ll be right down.” Then he clicked off.
I stop in front his building and waited. While I idled I scrolled through my iPod. Need some road trip tuneage. I was deciding between the Garden State soundtrack or annoying him with ballads when I heard a knock on my passen
ger side window, I jumped and looked over and saw Jason’s face pressed up against the glass making faces. Deciding to be evil, I rolled the window down, dragging his face along the glass.
“Ow!” He winced and yanked on the handle, dropping into the seat. “Morning to you too, Crabby!”
I looked at him all relaxed next to me. He looked rumpled from sleep in jeans and a white t-shirt; kicking off his shoes he leaned towards me while he threw his bag in the back with mine. I caught a whiff of his clean scent, inhaling in a mixture of sandalwood and spice. Embarrassed that I just sniffed him, I cleared my throat.
“I’m not crabby.” I smiled and to prove it I tossed my iPod at him. “You get to DJ.”
“Awesome.” He murmured and began scrolling with a little grin on his face. He can try and judge me, but if there was one thing I rocked at, it was music. Following the GPS, I headed towards 95.
“So you’re meeting your friends down there?” I began, keeping an eagle eye out for a Dunkin Donuts. Not positive about the rest of America, but I certainly ran on Dunkin.
“Hmm.” Was all he said, still engrossed in my iPod.
“How-“ I stopped when I recognized the song he chose. “After the Storm” by Mumford and Sons, I immediately snatched it out of his hand and skipped it. I was not listening to that song in front of him. No way in hell.
“Hey! Why’d you change it? I’m the DJ.” He looked at me expectantly, holding his hand out until I gave it back to him.
“That song…” I glanced at him and found him staring at me intently. A little unnerved I focused back on the road. “That song is important to me.” I didn’t look to see his reaction.
“Why?” His voice was quiet.
Blinking rapidly to avoid the tears gathering. I was playing the lyrics in my head. “B-because it fills me with hope and breaks my heart and makes me fall in love all at the same time. Songs, especially with that one, sometimes grab you by the throat, you know?” Mortified at how heavy this conversation got, I glanced at him out the corner of my eye to see how he was reacting.
“I get it.” He cleared his throat. “The Funeral? By Band of Horses, does that to me.”
“Yikes this got intense!” Laugh. Laugh. Divert. “Come on DJ Bartender, let’s get this show on the road!” Signaling towards the iPod.
“Ok, ok I got one.” He fiddled with it for a moment and then “Drive” by Incubus filled the car.
“Ah, the national road trip anthem, appropriate good Sir.” I gave him a nod.
“Glad you approve.” He smiled and rolled down his window. I went ahead and threw my sunglasses back on and rolled down the rest of the windows.
“So Mr. Scott…”
“So Marisol…hey, what’s your last name?”
“Finnegan. Didn’t you memorize that from my license, you stalker?” Raising my eyebrows at him.
“Ahh, you’re right! Excellent deducement! Wait…is that a word?”
“Nope!”
“Well shit, it should be.” He rested his chin on his hand and looked out the window.
“It’s a good one I’ll give you that. One of the better made-up words.”
“But the best is-“He looked at me and smiled.
“Scrumtrulescent!” We yelled at the same time.
I burst out laughing and cried, “Twins!” He laughed with me.
“You like Will Ferrell?” he asked.
“Of course!” I exclaimed.
“That’s good.” He gave me a look of approval.
“Are you kidding me? Who doesn’t? That’s like… not liking puppies.” I shook my head, smiling at our goofiness.
“Agreed.”
“So you like Will Ferrell, we have similar tastes in music, our dorky goofiness seems to be on par…I don’t know Jason, we may have just become best friends!”
“Want to go do karate in the garage?” I burst out laughing at his Step Brother’s reference.
He laughed again and then asked, “So are you’re meeting with Emily on Monday huh?”
“Yep!” I nodded.
“Do you like kids?”
I smirked at him, “Now you ask me that?”
“Yeah, guess it’s a little late now.” He grinned.
“To answer your question, yes, I love kids.”
“You’re going to love Michael.”
“I’m sure he’s great.” I paused. “If he’s nothing like you.”
“Ohhh that hurt Mari, so harsh.”
“By the way, his name is Michael Scott.”
“Yes. Being his uncle, I know this.”
“Michael Scott.” I repeated, peeking at him out of the corner of my eye.
“Uh-huh” He said, looking confused.
I glanced at him again, not believing that he wasn’t catching on. “Jason.”
“Oh! You know my name too! I was wondering…” He glanced at me, grinning.
“Jason, come on. Michael Scott?” How was he not connecting this?
“What are you getting at, Marisol?” He said, clearly exasperated.
“Seriously! You’ve never seen The Office? Man, we were getting off to such a great start too.” I shook my head.
“Everyone says I would love that show, I just don’t have much time for TV.”
“Well that is going to be remedied immediately.”
“Are you offering to introduce me?”
“Duh, super fan here. I have all the seasons on DVD.”
“So what’s so funny about Mikey’s name?”
“The boss on the show’s name is Michael Scott and he is hilarious and awful.”
“Hilarious and awful?” He laughed.
“Yeah, I mean he doesn’t mean to be funny, which is ironic because in the show he desperately wants to be, but he’s so inappropriate…you just have to see it.”
“We’ll have to set up a time to watch it.”
“Well you’re the busy one, new BFF, you let me know when you can pencil me and the best show ever in.”
“Will do.” He glances at me again and picks back up the iPod. “So what are you going to do in St. Augustine?”
“I’m meeting up with my sister and I don’t know, probably go out or something. Kayla’s dead set on getting me out of my funk and forcing me to have fun this weekend.”
“Forcing you to have fun?” He asks, still scrolling through songs.
“Not really forcing me because I do like to have fun, but I haven’t had any in a while and she’s big sistering me into this.”
“So this funk you’re in, what’s going on?” He questions casually. I glance at him and see I have his full attention again. Ugh, why does he have to be so hot and sincere?
“You really want to me share more of my pathetic little story with you?”
“Best friend over here Marisol, who else would you share it with?” He jokes causing my eyes to roll. Sia starts to croon through the speakers. I close my eyes, and then remember I’m driving and focus on the road.
“When you put it that way-“ I pause and take a deep breath. “I recently graduated which you know.” I look over at him and he nods. “Ok well it’s like this. I busted ass in school. I loved it. I knew that when I graduated I was going to have this amazing life that I had been working forever for. I mean how could I not? I did everything right. I worked full time through school, studied for every test, and got good grades, why wouldn’t I be rewarded for that?
I just assumed that life would be waiting for me after I graduated. I started to really hate going to my retail job everyday because everyone asked me the same question. Now what? Now that you graduated what are you going to do? When are you leaving? You have a degree, there’s no way you’re going to stay in retail right? I wasn’t making enough money to live on my own anymore after all my roommates left and then I realized that I had no other option but to come home until I could get my shit together.
But I don’t have my shit together, Bartender. I don’t even know how to go about getting my shit together.”
I slapped the steering wheel, feeling the well of anger and frustration start to overwhelm me again. “And for some goddamn reason I have this inability to stop blurting out things to you. You have a freaking talent. No wonder you’re a bartender.” I try to laugh off my mortification.
I’ve known this guy for two days and I keep making an ass out of myself. Calloused fingers touched my face and I turned towards him as he wiped away a tear rolling down my face. He’s looking at me with these soft understanding eyes and it’s beginning to piss me off because I don’t deserve it. Flushing in embarrassment, I turn my attention back to the road.
“Bet you’re glad I told you all of that. I don’t even make sense.”
“Marisol-“ He begins and then stops. “Mari, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I’m just whining. Ignore me.”
“No, I get it, I do.” He says quickly.
“Oh really? Is this where we bond, Jason, over the bitter disappointment of our lives?” I say sarcastically.
“Don’t do that. Just because it’s not something tragic doesn’t mean you’re not entitled to what you’re feeling. You’re not alone, Mari.”
“Please spare me the whole ‘everyone feels this way after graduating’ speech. I’ve heard it before and it’s getting tired.” I spit out.
“Will you please stop putting words in my mouth?” He snaps at me.
“Sorry.” I mumble.
“Listen, I get it. I do. Do you honestly think my life’s aspiration is to be a bartender?” He asks bitterly.
“Well-“
“It’s not.”
“Ok-“
“I want to be a musician. I want to write and play my music and right now, being a bartender allows me to do that.”
“You want to be a musician?” Don’t know why I am surprised by this, he has a musicians hands, long fingered and callused at the tips.
“Well yeah, I play guitar and write music and I want to be on the cover of Rolling Stone.” He says flippantly.
“Oh is that all?” I joke and he laughs at me.
“What do you like to do, Mari?”
Thinking for a minute, I continue. “I don’t know, nothing I can make a career out of.”
