Page 23 of Waiting for Tuesday

She raised her brow. “Well, good luck then.” She kissed me on the cheek and gave me a little side hug. “I gotta go. I have a bride consult in an hour.”

I tilted my head. “I thought you gave up weddings?”

She shrugged and backed toward the plastic sheet that now served as a door. “Friend of a friend.”

I laughed and watched as she squeezed herself through the plastic divider. My plan for the evening was to unpack all my chemicals so I could start replenishing product, but thenthishappened. The shelving catastrophe I didn’t have time for. Yet another delay, another day where inventory went out but didn’t come in. I was determined not to let the whole evening go to waste.

I made my way to my office, sat at my desk, and stretched my legs in front of me. It had been forty-eighthours since my altercation with John, and we’d done exactly what he’d said. Kept our distance. He did his thing, and I did mine, which was exactly how I wanted it.

I’d only seen him a handful of times. When I left each night, and when I arrived each morning. On occasion, I’d catch a glimpse of him through the plastic divider. Covered in filth, dirt, and sawdust… and an expression that looked so sad it made my heart hurt. I’d only just met him, but it looked all wrong. He was thehappy to be aliveguy at the bar, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit responsible for the change.

I shook my head, telling myself I was being dramatic for no good reason, which I was doing a lot lately. The stress of the store was getting to me. I was emotional, cranky, and PMSing like nobody’s business. I opened my office drawer and pulled out a stack of product boxes, determined to do the only thing that didn’t make me panic. Work. The desk was cleared, drawers organized, and everything was in its proper place. Including the light blue sofa I’d picked up on a whim with the shelving unit—the only reason that furniture store was still in my good graces today.

My body begged for a nap. To curl up on the soft, corduroy upholstery and forget about everything. But it was amazing how quickly I’d gotten behind. I had two large orders to ship, one being from my number one client Mrs. Tuso, and I tried to focus on the positive.

I hit the button on my oil diffuser, causing a billow of lavender mist to wash across my face. I inhaled, taking in the earthy, floral scent that would normally ease my worries. But not today. Today it would take more than a few drops of oil to cure the knots embedded a mile deep inside each of my shoulders. I needed to get some work done. More than a little. I flipped open my computer and pulled up this week’s invoices. I pressed print, and the low ink button began to blink immediately.

“Perfect.” I pushed myself off the desk, pulled a new ink cartridge out of the drawer, and threw the top of my printer open.

Of course the printer was out of ink. Of course!Nothing had gone smoothly since I’d purchased this damned shop. Nothing.

After finally printing the invoices, I headed to the back room with my pile of shipping supplies. Becky and I had organized the best we could under my current circumstances, but that only consisted of boxes stacked shoulder high against the far wall.

I placed the invoice next to the sink, propped my fulfillment box open on the floor, and began searching for Mrs. Tuso’s order.

Three boxes of Lemonade Girl body scrub. Check.

Two cases of Pour Some Sugar lotion. Check.

This was larger than her typical order, one she’d be using in swag bags for clients. I was thrilled when she sent in the order, even though it couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time.

I read the next item on the list, searched the labels, and added more lotions to the order.

“Okay… one case Cream In My Coffee lip balm.” My finger ran down the line, and I stopped at the pink cursive marks encircled by my best friend. I opened the case, immediately scrunched my brows together, and checked the box again. It was supposed to be lip balm, but the case was filled with body butter. I took the oval tubs out of the box, placed them one by one on the floor until it was empty.

I closed my eyes and forced in a breath. “Don’t panic. You made it—I remember it like it was yesterday…” I spotted another box across the room and rushed over to pull it open. Maybe I put them in the wrong box? I pulled the cardboard flaps wide, opening it all the way so I could see inside, but they weren’t there either.

My heart began to pound and I ripped open another box, not even bothering to check labels this time.

Your Body’s A Wonderland bath bars, Slow Like Honey massage lotion—nothing that I needed. I’d had the order for three months, promised it wasn’t too much for me to handle, but her favorite scent, the one that made my store famous, was missing.

How could I let myself lose something so important? Not only would I lose potential clients—clients I needed desperately with my new expenses—but I’d also be letting down one of my favorite people. The woman who almost single-handedly spread the word about my shop.

By the time I got to the fifteenth box open, packing peanuts littered the floor, and empty boxes were discarded at my feet. I couldn’t even imagine confessing to Mrs. Tuso that I’d let her down. That I’d let myself down. That I was in over my head with this whole fucking shop.

With each discarded box, the claws of desperation around my throat tightened, but I didn’t slow down. I was determined to find them. I needed to find them.

I’d once witnessed a woman at a bus stop, kicking and screaming, her hair wild and disheveled, her eyes sunken and feral. I’d wondered how someone could get to that point—to lose all self-control, to be so desperate they didn’t care about the repercussions of their actions. But standing there, surrounded by discarded products, cardboard, and paper, I didn’t care about anything but finding those damned lip balms.

I opened another box, dumped the contents on the floor, and moved to another. When I got to what must have been my twentieth box, I found them, nestled in a mislabeled box, safe and sound.

Four cases of Cream In My Coffee lip balm.

I sank to the floor, my nose burning with unshed tears, and I let myself go. Huge tears began to stream down my cheeks, and I didn’t try and stop them. I let myself cry, hard, sloppy, and wet. Tears of frustration, desperation, uncertainty, andfear.I was so damned scared. Afraid of losing everything I’d been trying to create my whole life. My stability…

* * *

John

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