Page 29 of Grump and Grumpier

“You pay for plenty, and she’s our niece, so we should be able to give her gifts,” Marissa says.

“Please keep it, Stella. It will make us both really happy to do something nice for Jessie and to make things a little easier for you.”

“You and Jessie deserve a little fun,” Marissa adds.

I can tell that Stella still wants to protest, but Jessie appears on the screen, spinning in circles and wearing the pink leotard and tutu we sent.

“Thank you, aunties. Thank you! Thank you!”

“You’re such a good dancer,” I tell her, “and imagine how much you’ll learn if you pay attention in dance class and practice every day.”

“I will. I’m so excited! I can’t wait!”

“How’s school going, Jessie?” Marissa asks as the girl starts to spin again.

Jessie comes to a stop and presses her nose in close to the screen. “It’s good. I made my own sandwich today to take to school.”

“You did? What did you make?” I ask.

In the background, I see Stella making a yuck face as Jessie shouts, “Cheese, raisins, and vanilla pudding!”

I try not to make a face myself as Stella shushes her daughter. “Nana’s going to be mad if you wake her up.”

“Sorry, Mommy,” Jessie says in a loud whisper, then, “Bye, aunties. Thanks again for my new dancing outfit. I love it, love it, love it!” She dances out of the room.

“Your mom’s asleep? Is she feeling okay?” Marissa asks. It’s a reasonable question since it’s not even seven o’clock.

Stella rolls her eyes and leans in to speak quietly. “She was out late last night. She’s been sleeping most of the day.”

We’ve heard stories about Stella’s mother’s erratic behavior in the past, and I wouldn’t be surprised if drugs or alcohol was involved in this all-day hangover, but I guess I hoped she’d be doing better with Stella and Jessie living there.

“Jessie looks adorable in that outfit,” I say tochange the subject. “And don’t you dare think about sending anything back, because I know you’d do the same for us if the situations were reversed.

Stella lets out a sigh. She’d probably still like to argue, but she looks tired.

“Be sure to send us videos from her first dance class,” Marissa says.

The three of us talk for another minute, and when we disconnect, Marissa and I are smiling.

“Thanks for making that happen,” my roommate says. “It feels really good to be able to help put some fun in their lives.”

“It wasn’t just me. You made it happen, too.”

“Yeah, but we couldn’t have done it without your new job.”

“It’s proof that the universe provides,” I say as I get back to my food. “We had a need, and now we have the means, and I’m so grateful.”

“Community Bean must be a great company to pay their employees so well.”

I murmur vague agreement to her assumption. I still haven’t told her what happened at my interview, and what is apparently continuing to happen, since I have no willpower. I’ve been waiting for the guilt to fade away, but that hasn’t happened yet. Quite the opposite, in fact.

I’ve seen the payrolls, and though everyone at Community Bean is compensated fairly andcompetitively, the salary I’m earning is considerably more than they’ve paid anyone else in my position, and I can’t shake the thought that my post-interview activities had something to do with it.

I don’t feel good about it, and I probably won’t be able to let the guilt go until long after my time there is done and I’ve moved on to a new position somewhere else.

As we’re finishing our meal, the doorbell rings, and I answer it to find a person with an unexpected delivery for me. It’s a large white bag, sealed at the top.

I bring it inside and open the bag to reveal a pink box bearing the logo of Lierre Rouge, a lingerie company that I’ve long admired, but haven’t purchased anything from because it’s so expensive. I’m pretty sure I already spend far more than most women on underwear, but Lierre Rouge is next level.

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