Page 11 of Afternoon Delight
I pulled on jeans and the top Mom had bought me—a light knit in pale blue that hugged my boobs and waist. White cords crisscrossed the V-neck, and the flared sleeves fell past my knuckles. It was casual, kind of hippy-dippy, but flattering. The color picked up the ash tones in my streaked, dirty-blonde hair.
I never wore my hair down unless I was going out for the evening, but after drying it, I left it loose, giving it a light spritz of hairspray to keep it off my face. I used minimal makeup, only doing my eyes and applying a nude balm to my lips. I looked great.
When I was ready for “work,” I skimmed through the emails and texts, replied to one from a client that seemed pressing—I was still a professional—then told HR what my hourly rate would be if they wanted to hire me on contract. It was an exorbitant amount, and I felt no guilt or shame.
I ate my half of the grapefruit Mom left out, poured my coffee into a travel mug, and walked outside to embark on my new life.
It was fucking snowing.
Chapter 5
Meg
It’s not like it never snowed in Toronto. Winters there were biting.
But it was the story of my entire childhood that I would lose a good hair day to a drippy, mashed-potato day like today. There were always enough mild, sunny days in February to have you believing spring was around the corner, then a day like today would kick you in the face.
Not that my looks mattered. My dishy neighbor wasn’t at work yet. There was a sign in the Twice Is Nice window that hadn’t been there yesterday: If we’re here, we’re open. If we’re not, we’re closed.
I refused to be disappointed. I was on a journey to love myself. I had no interest in starting up with any man, especially a younger one. Even a cute, funny one.
Unfortunately, I came from a bloodline of co-dependents. We found our value in serving others. That’s why I had brought our snow shovel to work and quickly pushed the layer of slush off the portion of the sidewalk that the awnings hadn’t covered.
I was both sweating and shivering by the time I got into Afternoon Delight. I turned on the heat and lights and set my phone to stream music through the Bluetooth speakers behind the cash desk.
Then I rolled some pastel condoms onto the tree and stuck it in the window display with a rabbit-style vibrator and a couple of insertable egg-shaped toys. Sacrilegious? Probably. Definitely not a stellar first effort.
I snapped a photo and sent it to Georgia, asking her to call me with some tips.
An hour later, all the shelves and inventory were dust-free, and I had just put away the vacuum when my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Georgia.
“Hi!” I greeted her. “How—um.” The lights came on next door. Focus. “How are you?”
“I’m in the twilight period where my pill is starting to work, but I’m still lucid. Are you okay? You sound weird.”
“Fine. Did you see my photo? I feel like the window display needs zhuzhing.”
“It does. Also, it’s Valentine’s Day next week. Do that before Easter.”
“Right. Damn.” And didn’t my obliviousness to that special day say everything about how I came to be divorced?
“Maybe get a couple of stuffies from the dollar store. Or some flowers. No chocolate. They melt in the sun and send the wrong message.”
“Voice of experience?”
“Yup. Any customers?”
I double-checked that I had turned the sign to Open.
“Not yet, but there are three online orders I’ll fill today. Hey, I’ve been thinking about how to get the word out that the shop is open again. What do you think of a re-launch event? I could advertise with a little discount to get some traffic in the door. Do you think you’d be up for doing an interview?”
“With who?”
“I don’t know. I was listening to the local radio station on my way in, and they had a spot with the owner of a shoe store. That made me think of it.”
She made a noise of reluctance. “Maybe if it aired during the drive home? Commuters won’t pick up a vibrator on their way to work. But I don’t know how persuasive I am these days. I sound like a crypt-keeper.” Her voice reflected her medication-dulled mood and weeks of angst.
“Someone will find that sexy,” I teased. “You know that.”
