Page 7 of Unlikely You

“They’re just like a fairytale, I swear.”

They certainly were. It was almost sickening, so I turned my attention to the dildos.

My phone went off and I realized I’d spent far too much time here. Between the Sheets was just one of the businesses where I sold my products on commission. They’d been very good to me, and it also gave me an excuse to come in and end up leaving with armfuls of romance books. As a general rule, I read more ebooks, but I also couldn’t pass up a pretty paperback, or a special edition of one of my favorite authors.

Larison had also started a monthly book club and had fun events that I loved coming to. She wanted me to teach one about crafting your own book or ereader sleeve, but I didn’t think I’d be good at teaching anyone anything, so I’d declined, but that didn’t stop her from asking every time I was here, or bugging me to join book club.

“Okay, I really need to get out of here,” I said, looking over at the counter where I’d stacked a bunch of books that I wanted to buy. Shit. I really shouldn’t.

“Let me just ring you up,” Delaney said as Larison and Jo were in their own world.

Between the Sheets was truly one of my favorite places, and not just because I made a lot of money by selling my products here. It was a cozy and welcoming space, with mismatched rugs and comfy worn chairs and beautiful murals on the walls and the prettiest wooden shelves. If I could, I’d spend all day here. As long as there weren’t a bunch of people around, but the place was popular, so that wasn’t realistic. I wondered if Larison would let me pay to come in after hours for an hour. Private browsing, like I was an heiress or something.

Laney gave me the total and even with my discount, it was more than I should have been spending on non-essential items. I liked to justify it because I needed books (new releases and popular titles especially) to use in product demonstrations and social media posts.

“Oh, I almost forgot that Holiday wanted to ask if you could drop off one of the shell-themed ereader covers for her the next time you come?” Laney handed me the note that the other part-time bookseller, Holiday, had left.

“You know what, I bet I have one in my trunk.” I took my purchases out and checked, and I just happened to have one of the covers. They’d mostly sold out fast and I couldn’t get any more of that specific fabric, so they’d been a one-off drop at the beginning of the summer.

“She’s in luck,” I said, holding it up. Laney beamed.

“You are an angel. She’s going to be so happy.”

As a general rule, I didn’t enjoy most people, but Holiday was an exception. I didn’t know what it was about her, but I liked her. We’d had more than a few deep discussions about books we loved when I’d come to the bookshop. In some ways, she reminded me of Melliferal. A person who brought out a nicer side of me.

I said my goodbyes again and realized I had spent far too much time at the bookshop and needed to bust my ass if I was going to get through my list for today. I kept strict schedule, with each day blocked out for different tasks and if I got behind on one thing, it threw off the rest of my day, and sometimes my week. There were only enough hours in the day to do about half of the things I needed to get done.

The bookshop had been my last stop of the day, so I stopped and allowed myself to indulge in a dirty chai to help get me through the rest of the afternoon. Could I have made it at home? Sure. But did it taste as good? No, it didn’t.

The business had taken over my apartment, with my sewing machine taking prominence in front of the window in my living room, baskets of fabric covering the floor, and my sticker and bookmark printers on another table. I preferred to use my laptop on the couch with a blanket, so at least I hadn’t needed a desk, but I would have given one of my lesser-important fingers for a decent desktop with a huge screen.

My computer was laggy and overheated constantly and had decided it really hated me by shutting down at least once every time I needed to use it. I’d gotten really militant about backing up my work.

I didn’t quite have enough in my budget for a new or refurbished computer, but I might get to the point where the choice would be made for me. I hoped to put it off as long as possible.

After an extremely quick snack of peanut butter slathered on crackers that I ate in the kitchen, I washed my hands and sat down at my sewing machine. Arson took up her regular post in the cat bed by my feet. I had a bunch of ebook sleeves that needed finishing which I’d been putting off. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my job and I loved sewing, but finishing always stressed me out and I worried about the most microscopic flaws.

When I’d first started making the book sleeves, my seams had been shitty, so I’d taken classes and worked hard to improve so I didn’t give anyone an inferior product. Originally, they hadn’t had any kind of closure, but now I’d added a button, so they could protect the books better. My ebook sleeves had a flap and snap and all of them were waterproof, which had been an absolute must.

I got into my rhythm and listened to my podcast with only half my attention, but that was how I usually worked. Once I finished up sewing all the buttons, I switched over the laundry to the dryer. I washed a lot of fabric, so having a washer and dryer in my apartment had been essential, even if it made my rent terrifyingly expensive.

By the time I was stopping for a break, it was late and my stomach was desperate for something nourishing. Too often I got so focused on my work that everything else fell away, including hunger and the needs of my bladder.

In addition to planning my schedule for maximum output for work, I also made sure that I didn’t have to spend too much time on things that didn’t contribute to my business. Like cooking and cleaning. So that meant I fit a once-a-week cleaner into my budget, as well as a crockpot and an air fryer, and I made a menu each week. Being organized kept me sane and made me feel like I wasn’t completely falling apart. Hell, I’d been taking care of my own meals and laundry since I was about nine, so I’d had years to refine my system.

Tonight, I had leftovers that I pulled from the fridge and heated up in the microwave. Rubbing my itchy and tired eyes, I sat on the couch and stared at the television, not even sure what I was watching. It didn’t matter. I was done for the day. Even Arson had was passed out on the couch after I’d fed her.

A new message came through on my phone.

Mondayyyyyyit said with a gif of someone screaming. Guess Melliferal had had a rough one too.

I think we’re both entitled to compensationI responded.I will take mine in the form of peanut butter chocolate fudge and a day-long massage.

She sent me the drooling emoji.Peanut butter chocolate fudge would cure me right now, I think. Peanut butter chocolate fudge and maybe one hour of quiet. The mayhem has been mayhemming especially hard today.

Melliferal had told me she had a loud family (she’d said they were such a part of her life that she couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist, but she’d kept the details sparse), and I knew she lived near them, if not with them. I literally couldn’t imagine her life.

What was it like to have parents who didn’t resent your existence from the minute you were born? Who didn’t act like your basic needs were excessive and annoying? Who didn’t keep an accounting of every cent they spent on you and then give you the bill, as if you could pay it? They’d tried, but I’d torn it up on my way out the door. I almost wish I’d had a lighter on me so I could have burned it in front of them and thrown the ashes on the lawn. But they probably would have called the cops and told them I’d tried to burn their house down.

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