Page 14 of With This Lie

7

Dani

This may be a bad idea.Beautiful men are always a bad idea, actually. My headphones are in and I’m listening to “Slow Down Love” by Louis the Child but my mind is still back half a block. I glance over my shoulder and see him still watching me walk away. But how could a man just not be into music? How could any person not be into music really? Clearly, he needs a musical education and if I do one thing during our time together, however long it lasts, I will give it to him.

I glance over my shoulder again but he’s out of sight. I still have a few hours before work and I plan to use it wisely. I need to run some errands and maybe spend some extra time getting ready for work. I mean, I sort of have a reason to look a little extra cute, right?

I make it up to my apartment and head for the closet. What do you wear when you want to look cute for someone but don’t want them to know you’re trying to look cute for them? Decisions, decisions. It’s still really warm out so I pull out a pair of black high-waisted cut-off jean shorts. These say, “look at my ass”, but also, “I just threw these old things on, no big deal”. Perfect. I’ll just pair it with a simple tank top and a push-up bra and that should do the trick.

My phone buzzes from across the room and I roll my eyes because I know it’s Mark. He’s been texting me every hour. First, they were vague apologies. Then, they sort of shifted into demands. As if, simply because he offers the apology, I am obligated to accept it? No, cupcake. That’s not how it works. There’s no rule about that. I think as we grow up we are taught that accepting apologies and forgiveness is the polite thing to do, but that’s such garbage. I am not obligated to accept or forgive simply because it’s what the other person wants, or what would make them feel better. You know what would make me feel better? Giving him another elbow to the nose. He should be thankful all I’m doing is ignoring him.

I lay out my clothes for later and grab my phone. I bypass the messages and go straight to the music. I start a new playlist and label it “Lucas’ Musical Education”. I start scrolling through my library looking for songs that would be appropriate for someone who never got into music. Without knowing what genre he might prefer, I start adding everything. A little rock, alternative, a few rap and hip-hop songs, even some country. I see a text message pop up on the top of my screen from Mark and it’s in all caps. I roll my eyes and decide it’s time to click on them. There are seventeen unread messages after all. I reach for my cocoa butter lip balm on the table and smooth it over my lips. I probably have a stick of it in every room in the house. Some people might call me obsessed. What can I say? I don’t like chapped lips. And I don’t like lipstick. My mother always said smooth lips were a must and I agree. I begin reading through his messages.

Mark: Dani. I’m sorry, okay? I think we can work this out. Please respond.

Mark: Dani, come on, this is ridiculous.

Mark: Dani!

I roll my eyes as they start to change.

Mark: Fucking answer me, bitch!

Mark: No one says no to me!

Mark: You’re just a bottom of the barrel fuck toy anyway. I’m done with you!

Mark: BYE BITCH

Well, at least he’s done. At least he “ended” it. Men like Mark just need the last word, just need to feel like they’re still in control of a situation that isn’t even a situation anymore. No use arguing with him. I’ll let him have his last word and move on with my life. Good riddance and all that.

I check the clock and I still have some time before I need to get ready for work, so I grab my purse and head for the door. I make my way across the street and down the block to the little pharmacy. It’s not a Walgreens or any big name. The name of the place is Hank’s, and it’s a pharmacy, hardware store, and grocery store all in one. It was one of those businesses that didn’t take the hint when everything started changing. Despite Hank’s slightly higher prices, the owner had loyal patrons that kept him going.

I walk down the aisles collecting a few things I need to mail. The high school student behind the counter rings up my socks, lip balm, a pack of gum, a box of envelopes, and two twenty-five-dollar phone cards and I pay cash. I have cash in abundance usually. With the accumulation of tips each night, it goes in my pocket and my small paychecks go into my checking account. But I use cash to buy and pay for just about everything. Quinn calls me old school for this but I don’t mind. I always know how much I have unlike most people who just watch their money disappear from an app on their phone and scratch their heads.

I get back up to my apartment after making the short walk back and Robert is waiting at my door.

“Did you get it?” he asks.

“Of course. What did you think, that I’d forget?” I pull out the pack of Juicy Fruit and rip it open. I pull out a piece and rip it in half.

We both open our ends and stick it in our mouths at the same time. Robert smiles and I smile. This is something we do together for a few reasons. Robert has dentures so he can only handle half a piece at a time. Plus, it’s something he did with his late wife and he does it when he misses her. He does it to honor her. I’m happy to be a part of it.

Robert looks into my eyes and all I see is a grateful man, happy to have a friend to help him with this. Sometimes I go shopping for Robert because it’s hard for him. And any time I go over to Hank’s, I always pick us up some Juicy Fruit, his wife’s favorite. He doesn’t like the way it’s changed but he eats it anyway. He pats me on the shoulder without saying a word and shimmies past me to the stairs to make his way back down to his apartment.

I walk into my apartment and sit the rest of the items on the counter. I walk to the pantry and grab one of the flat boxes in there and begin making it and taping it. I feel my phone buzz in my back pocket and pull it out.

Quinn: Do you think you could do me a favor? Pretty please?!

This isn’t good. Anytime Quinn asks for a favor, you can bank on it being something you absolutely do not want to do.

Me: That depends.

Quinn: Will you pretty please switch me and go into work at six and let me come in at eight??

I grimace and check the time. That’s in twenty minutes!

Me: OMG could you have waited any later to ask me??

Quinn: I know, I know, but I’m on this date and he’s so cute and it’s going so great!

I sigh. Well, the girl hadn’t been on a successful first date in six months so this does put me in a friendship dilemma. I want to be a good friend. I also don’t want to go in at six though.

Me: Fine. You owe me!

I drop the box and run to my bedroom to get ready, cursing Quinn under my breath. Luckily, my clothes were laid out and decided upon. Otherwise, I’d be fucked. I throw on my shorts, bra, and shirt and slip on my boots. I run into my bathroom and brush my teeth first. I twist my hair back on one side with a bobby pin and fluff it up all over to try to give it some life. My hair has always been a point of contention. It’s rather dull and flat most of the time. I pull out my make-up bag and check my phone. I need to be downstairs in nine minutes. I use some powder, a little peachy blush, and some mascara. As always, I finish with cocoa butter lip balm. I step back and take a look in my full-length mirror. It’s not my best look but not my worst either. It’s certainly a little less impressive than what I was going for but maybe that’s in my head. I grab my keys and wallet, shove my phone in my back pocket, and make my way downstairs in a hurry.

I walk in one minute past when I was supposed to be here and Calvin looks up at me from his spot in the back corner. He eyes me for a second and checks his watch. He holds his watch up at me and taps it and I know it means he knows I’m late. I was hoping since this wasn’t my original shift he might not know but it’s clear Quinn had alerted him of the change, which is just another reason to curse her under my breath. I make my way over to the bar and tie my apron in place. I survey the room a bit, noticing it’s not too busy just yet. Though, I had a feeling this would be a long night.

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