“No, it’s fine. I’ve got everything under control.” She refused my help, and it hurt me. I couldn’t just stand there, looking idle. I had to find something that would keep me busy.
“I’ll wipe the counter!” I grabbed the new towel from her and began wiping with unmeasured tenacity. She stared at me in amazement.
“Jacob? I told you it’s fine. This is not necessary,” she protested.
“It’s not fine with me.”
“But I do not appreciate it,” she made an overtaxed face.
Slowly, my tenacity decreased, and I looked up at her.
“Could you please tell me what’s going on with you? I’m more than willing to listen.”
“Jacob, please, nothing is the matter. I am good, I do not want to have to...”
I went around the counter to stand close to her. Her lips tightened immediately, and her breath grew shallow.
“What’s going on? It’s okay to take it all out on me.”
“Do you know a man by the name Joe Griffin?” She asked, reluctantly.
“Joe Griffin?”
“Yeah. Do you know who he is?” Her eyes widened with curiosity.
“Yeah, sort of; we’ve met before. He is the CEO of Custom Builders, a construction company. Some social gatherings bring us together, and I’ve had a one-on-one conversation with him once. He’s got quite a reputation. Why do you ask, though?”
She was staring at me, as if to say, “Tell me more.”
“Well, it’s nothing. I- I saw him on the news. Yeah,” she stuttered.
I nodded.
“I have heard he’s quite a cunning man who loves to have his way. He appears frequently in the news, and there are several articles about him.” I continued.
“Hm.” She nodded, but I could still sense that she was not totally fine.
Suddenly, a redhead appeared behind us. She was young and had a strange look on her face.
“Oh, that’s Tina.” Clara would later introduce her to me.
“It’s nice to meet you,” the girl said.
“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Jacob.” I said just as an elderly customer walked in.
Clara moved aside to attend to the woman. She seemed to still be very much bothered even while she tried to act like nothing was out of place when speaking with the woman.
Looking closely at her, I was reminded of a particular time when she was so nervous about a party. She couldn’t get her hair to look exactly the way she had seen it on YouTube, and she was really sad-mad. Cuddling her had been like cradling a child. It helped me as much as it soothed her, and she was relieved of every anxiety that day.
Now, I wish I could wrap my arms around her and reassure her that it was all going to be fine. But I couldn’t, I dared not, perhaps. I had long since lost the privilege.
“Are you sure you are good?” I went to her when the woman had left satisfactorily with her cup of coffee.
“Yeah, yeah.” It was all that came from her.
“Right! I want to assist you with work.”
“I can’t possibly allow that,” she looked amazed.