Page 10 of The Falcon and the Foe

“Learn all the things today!”

“I will.”

Maybe he had mastered the art of hiding his feelings, and I was too busy or obtuse to notice.

* * *

My shiftat the market didn’t start until ten this morning, which gave me time to record an ad for the new skating rink in town. When I moved back home, I converted the basement into a recording studio. A recording booth encased in soundproof glass sat against the wall. Inside was a small table and chair where I sat with my laptop and microphone. I had found an old studio going out of business, and I was able to get most of the items at a steep discount. Business had been steady but not as strong as it used to be. Not being in Manhattan made networking difficult, but I was slowly building up a book of business locally—ads for businesses, elevator recordings for offices, voiceover for employee training videos. Little by little, it added up. I could record around my schedule, which usually meant early mornings or late nights.

I cleared my throat and held the copy on the other side of the microphone. “Looking for an activity this winter for the whole family? Don’t get iced out of the fun. Come on down to Buckley’s Skating Rink, now open for skating and private lessons. Enjoy a pristine, full-size rink and fill up on delicious hamburgers and hot chocolate at our concession stand. Use code Sourwood Ten to get ten percent off your skate rental. Buckley’s Skating Rink. Come join the fuck!”

Ding-ding.

My phone rang in my pocket. I had silenced notifications, but not text messages.

We need to set up a time for you to get certified in First Aid,Russ texted.

And CPR.

Also, non-discrimination training, as mandated by the Falcons organization.

“Okay, Russ. You’re coming in loud and passive-aggressively clear!” I threw my phone out of the booth, where it landed on an old couch. It dinged with one more message.

“I see what you’re trying to do, Russ, and it’s not going to work! ” I yelled at the phone, daring it to ding again and see what would happen. “If you’re going to haze me, at least have the courtesy to spank my ass with a wooden paddle.”

Being a voiceover artist had cured me of my fear of hearing myself on tape. I listened back to the recording before my expletive-laced outrage, making notes on which words to emphasize and where I could add more verve so it’d really pop. I recorded a handful more times before I had to run to work. I’d edit and finalize tonight after Josh went to bed. And then I could figure out how to get the Falcon training completed.

* * *

If I didn’t havethe employee discount, there was no way in hell I’d shop at Market Thyme. I could get all my groceries for half the price at the local supermarket. Market Thyme was for bored rich people who needed to find new ways to spend their money. It had a wine bar with a piano player and organic food up the wazoo.

Naturally, most of the parents in Josh’s class shopped here. They made awkward eye contact with me, unsure if they should risk being caught talking to the staff. Usually, once or twice a month, one of the parents would ask if I was unemployed and looking for a job. They couldn’t fathom that I enjoyed my work, loved my co-workers, appreciated the flexible hours, and was paid a good wage. However, I was worried that my working here made Josh a pariah among his classmates.

“Hottie with the helmet coming up. He’s looking my way,” my co-worker Jasmine whispered into her headset. When we worked the checkout, we had a game to see which customer would choose our register.

I glanced up at the cute young guy in the tight black jeans, white T-shirt, holding a motorcycle helmet in one hand and chicken broth and baby powder in the other. I wanted to know that life story.

He went to Jasmine’s register, and I could hear her smile through my headset. She had flawless black skin, colorful nails, and her apron hugged her in all the right places. She prided herself on getting all the hot guys to her line, even though she was currently in a relationship with a woman. She relished victory, no matter the gender.

“Oh, here’s a DILF coming up. Tall, built. Mm-hmm,” she said a few minutes later.

Sounded like my dream guy. But it turned out to be my nightmare.

“He’s coming to you, Cal,” she said giddily.

There was nothing to be giddy about, not when it was the khaki Terminator coming for me. Russ slammed his basket on the wood plank next to my register.

“Cal, funny running into you here,” Russ said, though something told me this wasn’t a coincidence. He handed over two reusable shopping bags. Our eco-conscious customers brought their own to save trees.

“Who would’ve thought that you’d find me at the place where I work.”

“I assume your shifts were unpredictable.”

In his basket were celery, apples, onions, cans of kidney beans, lentils, garlic powder, and no sugar added applesauce. His shopping selections had as much personality as he did. I focused on scanning and bagging each item, whatever it took not to engage in conversation.

Jasmine gave me a stealth thumbs up. It was more like a finger down my throat.

“Have you had a chance to look over the material I sent?”

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