Page 16 of Love Bank
Thankfully, I had the strength of a goat challenge and a brush with a brilliant-but-insane cat fueling me at the time. These damn animals really were magical.
“I’m so sorry, Yedda, but I’m currently dating myself.” I didn’t even blink.
“I’m sorry, what, dear?” she sputtered.
I sneezed again, which caused the water in my eyes to finally give up the fight and slide down my cheeks. “I’m dating myself. You know, getting to know me before I try to date anyone else.”
I must have found Yedda’s kryptonite. She saw the tears streaming down my cheeks and pulled me in for another hug.
“Oh, that’s such a smart thing to do. Don’t cry, dear. You’re going to find yourself before you even know it.”
She patted my back and I hoped the chuckle that escaped my mouth sounded like a sob.
I finally disentangled myself and backed out of the building, careful not to let one of the beasts out when I opened the door. My skirt got caught and I had to open it again to yank it free, but no cats. Mission accomplished.
Now on to the allergy meds and blackmail.
I may have whistled a tune as I made my way back to my clinic, only giving up when I could no longer breathe. Fun fact: it was hard to whistle and walk at the same time when you couldn’t breathe through your nose. But the joy remained.
I was practically giddy.
6
Bain
I woke up groggy and feeling like I somehow transported overnight to the future where I was knocking on the door to eighty years old. Every muscle screamed at me as I stretched and stood out of bed. Thank the good Lord, it was finally Friday.
The first week of the prison being open had been a rough one. I’d worked at least twelve hours each day, just trying to get everything in order before we were full of transported inmates from neighboring towns. When you got sentenced to jail time, previously, you were taken to a state-run prison in one of the nearby big cities. Auburn Hill wasn’t at all big enough to need their own prison, but the mayor had been quick to accept the offer from a private company to build a private prison here in Hell. Now we had all manner of criminals from surrounding areas headed down Brinestone Way to my facility, just one mile from Main Street.
I walked my naked self—the only way to sleep—to the laundry hamper of clothes in the corner of my bedroom, pawing through to find a clean-ish pair of pants. They weren’t exactly pressed, but beggars can’t be choosers and I was the boss, so I declared I passed inspection. I didn’t have time to do the laundry this week, so sue me. Everything I owned was mostly still in cardboard boxes strewn about the house. Thankfully, the place came furnished or else I probably would have been sleeping on the floor too.
Pulling on a pair of thankfully clean, tight underwear—I didn’t like the goods flying about freely just in case I got in a tussle with someone who didn’t want to spend the night in my fine facility—and my wrinkled pants, I hustled to the bathroom to wash my face and try to get some gel to work a miracle in my hair that hadn’t seen a barber in too long. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I had some gnarly bags forming under my eyes I didn’t appreciate.
I’d gone to get dinner at Hell’s Tavern again last night, barely squeaking in and getting my precious pint before they closed. Only in Auburn Hill does the town bar close at nine o’clock at night on a Thursday. Another guy had been there grumbling about a woman to the bartender. I would have tuned him out, but he was highly talkative, moving over to sit next to me and striking up a conversation. His long hair curled a bit around his neck, grabbing my attention. I’m not one to notice another guy’s hair, but when it borderlines on a mullet, you kind of can’t not notice.
We ended up talking till Nugget kicked us out. I now had an invite from my new buddy, Titus, to hang with him and his friends at a beach bonfire tonight. Finally, a chance to see if this town could work out for my social life. The bags under my eyes would just have to keep for another day. I’d sleep when I was dead.
I threw on a shirt, buttoned it up, and shoved the tails into my pants. My boots were easy to slip on since I didn’t lace them up yet. I’m sure I looked a mess, but these things couldn’t be helped. My keys jangled in my hand while I locked up my rental house and hit my truck. If I gunned it a little, I could get to Coffee for some breakfast and still make it to the prison on time.
The same poor bastard sat on the outdoor porch of Coffee when I pulled up a few minutes later having missed the traffic jam entirely. Since, you know, Auburn Hill never had one. He was a bit disheveled with his wrinkled shirt tails hanging out, but now that I thought about it, he looked no worse than me. Only two people in line meant I was getting breakfast today. My stomach grumbled as I inhaled the scent of coffee and carbs and I apologized to the grandma in front of me when she spun around to eye where the strange noise had come from.
“Sorry, ma’am. Just excited for the bagels here.” I would have tipped my hat if I’d been wearing one. I was really getting into this small-town thing.
She smiled, the lines of her face only adding character to match the twinkle in her eyes. “Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite. Would you say you’re about thirty years old?”
“Uh, yes, ma’am.” Where was she going with this line of questioning?
She clapped her hands, releasing some short hairs into the breeze that came through every time someone opened the door to the coffee shop. Now that I was noticing, she was covered in them, like she tussled with a brown bear before hitting up Coffee.
“Oh, goodie. I know just the one for you.”
“Uh…” I was still drawing a blank. One for what?
“Let me get it all set up and then I’ll meet you at the prison. Sound good?”
“Next!” the irritated, yet bored, teenager called from behind the counter, interrupting the lady, which was just as well. I had no idea what she was “setting up,” but if she met me at the prison, at least I’d have a holding cell all ready to go. She looked like she could use one of those padded ones we kept for the real special guests.
She ordered and moved away to collect her items, but not before giving me a wink and a finger wave. I guess I’d have to take the crazy side of living in a small town, along with the short lines and no traffic jams.
