Page 4 of From Wink to Kink

“Eh, there will be some new drama tomorrow, and they’ll forget all about this,” he predicts. “You know how it is.”

“It’s a regular soap opera. Who knew.”

“You sure you’re okay, Ruby?”

“I’m sure.” I force my best fake-ass smile.

Back in the library, as soon as Matthew is out of sight, my smile fades. I didn’t exactly lie to him. I am mostly okay. Thesting of the day will fade in time, but I know myself well enough to know how I’ll spend the rest of this shift.

Wallowing. Overthinking. And hurting my own feelings.

Why am I not enough? Not good enough . . . not enough?

I know I shouldn’t think like this, but it’s hard not to when everything in my life is just so-so. Sure, I have a lot to be thankful for, not least of which is having a job and a place to live. But something is… out of balance.

My mind wanders over the past year, choosing bits and pieces to obsess over, and one word comes to mind—settling. I’ve settled because I don’t want to ask for more.

While I fixate on my shit, I continue working through my shift, checking in books, putting them on carts to be returned to the shelves. It’s a never-ending job, like a giant loop. Books constantly leave the library, and they constantly come back.

Guaranteed employment for an underachiever like me.

It doesn’t take a lot of concentration, so I can get lost in my thoughts. Sometimes, the tedium is broken up by coworkers dropping by to chat.

But not today.

Today, I’m being given a wide berth.

Finally, I head back to the locker room, half afraid of what I’ll hear or see this time. Thankfully though, I don’t encounter any coworkers on the way to clock out. And, there are no messages on my locker.

I reach into my pocket to toss out the note Tod left me and find the flyer for Costa Rica. I’m not exactly sure what a librarian wellness retreat is, but it sounds nice, like it would be full of kindred souls. But it’s happening soon, like in the next couple weeks. And it’s also crazy expensive. I shove the flyer back in my pocket, regardless.

A girl’s gotta have dreams.

2

RUBY

I standon Dad's doorstep, staring at the chipped paint and willing myself to enter. After the day I've had, I'm not sure I'm up for a family dinner. But hey, given that I live here and have nowhere else to go, I turn the doorknob and enter. Dad never locks his front door.

And as I’m pushing the door, it swings open, revealing my dad's beaming face.

"Ruby Tuesday!" he exclaims, pulling me into a bear hug that smells of Old Spice and whatever's burning in the kitchen.

What is it about one of Dad’s hugs that brings a lump to my throat, especially after a crappy day?

But I buck up. The last thing in the world I want is to worry him. He’s been through enough shit of his own.

So I tickle his ribs, making him bellow with laughter. "Dad, really?Ruby Tuesday? You’re still using that one?"

I pretend to be annoyed. But of course, I love it. I love everything about my dad. Except, maybe, his meatloaf.

"Hey, you’re my daughter. I can call you whatever endearment I want. Come on in, kiddo. Tyler and Lucy are already here."

Great. Just what I need—an evening of watching my perfect NHL star brother and his perfect girlfriend make goo-goo eyes at each other over Dad's famously dry meatloaf.

I follow him into the living room of his modest little house ‘out in the avenues,’ one of the residential sections of San Francisco. His is a cozy, if slightly cramped, row house that's seen better days. Tyler's constantly trying to convince him to let him buy him a swanky condo downtown, but Dad's more likely to trade in his beloved Lazy-Boy than move out of this place. He’s not leaving this house except in a coffin, as he likes to say. I love him for his stubbornness. Most of the time.

"Rubes!" Tyler bounds up from the couch, all six-foot-whatever of him unfolding like some kind of ridiculously handsome jack-in-the-box. He scoops me up in a hug that lifts my feet off the ground. "How's my favorite librarian?"

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