Page 14 of True Honey
Everything I touched, I screwed up.
I slammed my hands against the steering wheel, sad and frustrated.
Bad mom, bad wife, bad waitress.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand and dug out my cell phone to bring up a listing of apartments in the area. The first-aid kit containing the business card that Silas had given me was mocking me from the floor of the passenger seat, tangled into August’s blanket and his stack of books. The guilt seeped in. How little space he had to grow, tothrive. I turned back to apartment hunting. Without a job, every single listing was out of budget.
I needed to talk to Kayla, but she had told me to take today to cool off and get my hand checked out. Silas had cleaned it and I changed the bandage this morning with no signs of any infection. It was good enough for me, and I didn’t need the hospital bill that getting it looked at would cost.
Walking into Hilly’s felt like torture at the moment, so I started the car and decided to drive around Harbor until I found more hiring signs in a pathetic attempt to get a job instead of showing my face. Everyone hit me with the same excuses: ‘we’ve filled the spot’ ‘we hired internally’ ‘oh that sign is old’. It was frustrating and made me feel hopeless. When you haven’t had many wins in your entire life and the one thing you consider a win is slipping through your fingers… I stopped for lunch, slamming some plain chips and turkey slices between two pieces of bread and scrolled through more Craigslist posts but found nothing that paid like waitressing, or that we could afford, even with tips.
I looked up at the building of the parking lot I parked in and sighed.
Harbor Stadium.
I looked down at the bright red first aid kit and shook my head. The universe was just fucking with me now. I reached over and grabbed the card from the mesh pocket and flipped it around in my hands. Last night he hadn’t actually given me any details about the apartment, like how much rent he wanted to charge. Him being the roommate made me nervous, the two times I had come in contact with him were in the bar and despite him saying he was a doctor I wasn’t exactly sure of the validity of the statement he made.
Why was he working at the baseball stadium if he was a doctor?
It just didn’t make any sense to me but what did I know? I was a broke, self-deprecating single mom living out of her car with her thirteen-year-old son. A son who resented me more and more every day.
I stared up at the stadium and groaned.
It couldn’t get any worse.
I grabbed my jeans and pulled on a cardigan over my shoulders as I wandered up to the main doors and pressed the button on the intercom that was labeled visitors ring. It took nearly two whole minutes before the lock buzzed open loudly and I was allowed inside. My senses were flooded by the noise of people chatting, and phone calls being made. It was like its own tiny working city within the walls. My nose was bombarded by grass, sand and a weird sterile smell that I couldn't quite place.
Taking in the signs on the side of the massive beige concrete tunnel I followed it down to the main office. Lined with glass windows, it was bright with a few seats and a long couch parallel to a massive L-shaped desk piled with pamphlets, folders and flowers of all different colors.
I stepped forward, not seeing anyone and tapped the edge of the card on the counter. The main part of the desk was a disaster zone, there were papers everywhere and three empty coffee cups all with varying amounts of what looked like cold coffee in them. I could hear someone rustling around out of sight but it was another five minutes of standing around before she appeared again.
“Oh Jesus!” A small, sweet looking woman appeared from one of the back doors. She was in a navy-white hoodie and jeans, her gray hair twisted up into a massive claw clip and her glasses on the tip of her nose. She clutched her chest at the surprise and the folders in her arms went flying. I moved forward squatting down to help her collect everything on the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, helping her quickly pile everything back up and handed it to her as I stood.
“Those boys,” she grumbled. “Did you ring the bell?”
“Yeah,” I said, looking over my shoulder at the entrance to the office. “I’m sorry I scared you…”
“They hear the sound of the bell and instead of calling me they just lean over that damned desk thinking they’re being helpful and let anyone in the building before they disappear! One of these days they’re going to get me murdered!” She huffed as she worked to calm herself down from the scare.
She walked through the office and I went back around to the other side of the desk as she set down the pile in her arms. She looked around at the chaos and muttered a few more choice swears under her breath before she composed herself and looked up.
“Not a murderer.” I drew a little cross over my heart and she laughed gently.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
“My name is Drew,” I smiled.
“Susanna, and I promise I’m not always this worked up,” she said with a smile, before frowning at the three mugs.
“I was wondering if I could talk to Mr. Shore?” I pushed the card forward on her desk when the phone rang. She picked it up without taking the card and started to talk to whoever was on the other end. She moved backward and the cord of the phone caught the lip of the fullest mug sending it tumbling across the desk.
Susanna continued chatting, pulling something up on her computer so I rushed around the desk again and started to move all the folders out of the way of the spill. I piled them up neatly and set them out of the way before the coffee touched most of them but a few had gotten caught. With her back turned to meI continued to look for help, spotting a box of tissues on the desk behind me. I used nearly half the box to clean the mess as she just continued to chat away.
“Oh shoot,” she said as she hung up the phone. “This is the busiest season of the month and I am swamped, I’m so sorry!” She started to mess around with the papers with a scowl on her face as I dumped the wet tissues into the garbage.
“Is there anything I can do?” I asked her. I just needed to feel useful and maybe Susanna was my ticket. The phone rang again as she eyed me. She wasn’t entirely sure about accepting the help but she angled to pick up the phone and smiled before she nodded, handing me the other two cups. “If you go on back there, there's a kitchen. Let’s start with that so I don’t spill anything else.”
