Page 52 of Absorbed

“That’s disgusting. From the beginning you said all we have to do is sprinkle the pink stuff everywhere and hose it out.”

“First of all, you should know better by now than to listen to any of the stupid shit I say. Second, this is a WOMEN’S RESTROOM! You’d better be cleaning it more than that or we are going to get shut down by the health department. Bob told everyone as much your first day, when you were all googly-eyed over Jessie.”

Stacey’s face flushed. “You’re such an asshole!” She stormed out of the bathroom.

Mark followed her. “Get over yourself, Stacey and do your damn job. You need to wipe down mirrors and toilet seats, refill toilet paper, empty those bins in the stalls with disgusting girl stuff inside. AND clean the hair out of that drain!”

“Fine.” She looked at her feet. “Will you at least show me how?”

“We need a screwdriver, more gloves, and possibly an exorcist,” he said.

It turned out the unused plastic utensils that had been piling up in the guard shack all summer came in handy. Once Mark pried the cover off of the drain, they each scraped and scooped out the muck. Stacey paused to look away when the smell and slime of the clog made her stomach turn. Mark gagged, covering his mouth with his elbow.

Thirty minutes later, the water flowed properly with all the shower faucets running.

After washing her hands, Stacey slumped onto the couch, grateful Chad and Tiffany had offered to take the first shifts in the towers.

Mark sat at the desk, accepting money from the swimmers as they entered. Over his shoulder, he said, “For you to be late, andthe way you dragged your ass through here, you’re sure you don’t have Typhoid or something?”

“I’m fine,” Stacey said, crossing her arms and looking down at her red, shredded fingers. “Everyone can back off.” Her nails were bitten to their quicks. She pushed her left ring finger cuticle between her teeth and started to tug at it.

“You don’t seem fine.” He perched on the edge of the desk, his arms crossed. “You’re cannibalizing your hands and your clothes are filthy.”

Stacey pulled her finger from her mouth and tucked it in her armpit. She looked down at her Nirvana T-shirt. It had small holes in the neck and brownish-yellow stains in the pits. The buffalo check boxers were faded and more than three sizes too big.

“Like you’re one to talk,” she muttered.

“That’s different, and you know it. I’m always a slob. You never are.”

Stacey pushed herself to standing and pulled open Melissa’s locker to use her mirror. Her hair was greasy and her lashes still held clumps of mascara. Wetting her face that morning only made the black shadows around her swollen eyes more prominent.

“Maybe you have a point. But I’m kinda rocking the angry grunge look.”

“Nah. You look like an angsty runaway who needs a shower.”

Stacey pulled off her T-shirt and boxers, shoving them in her locker, then wrapped her towel around her waist, double rolling it so it would stay put. Grabbing a hair-tie and bottle of SPF 30 from the back of her locker, she combed her fingers through her hair to pull it into a ponytail. Rubbing sunscreen onto her face, Stacey took care to gently swipe a bit beneath her eyes, then used a tissue from the desk to wipe the smeared makeup away with the extra lotion.

She turned toward Mark. “Better?”

“Yeah. Now don’t fall asleep up in the chair.”

“You’re a hypocrite.”

“I know. But one of me is already one too many around this place.” Mark turned back to the desk and put his feet up.

Stacey headed out for her rotation in the deep-end tower.

As Tiffany climbed down, she told Stacey, “We’ve got a few overconfident swimmers today.”

Stacey nodded. “We always do.”

“We need to watch that one especially.” Tiffany pointed out a small, skinny boy, about five years old, in a too-large pair of royal blue swim trunks. “He can barely doggy-paddle.”

Tiffany moved over to the other tower to watch the shallow end and Chad went inside.

It was only 9:30, but after a night spent crying and too little sleep, then an hour scouring the dark, dingy bathroom, Stacey’s head was pounding. The harsh reflection off the water and bright concrete stung Stacey’s eyes, even through her sunglasses. The kids’ laughter and splashing pierced her eardrums. Her stomach rumbled.

Despite everything, Stacey’s internal debates about Jessie still fought for her attention.

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