Page 77 of Glass Half Full
“What?”
“A delicious and visually pleasing a?ai bowl! I need to make a new Insta post, and I’ll let you eat it after.”
“Wow, Michelle, that really means a lot.”
I know that in my sister’s world, it actually kind of does.
“Trust me,” she urges as she pushes herself up off the floor, “this is going to turn your whole day around. Maybe even your whole life!”
I smile to myself as she starts banging around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients from the cupboards. My whole day already has turned around, but it’s not because of perfectly portioned superfoods.
It’s because of my sister. Finally, after years of that gap growing between us, I know that whether it’s with kitten Band-Aids or Insta-worthy food porn, we’ll always have each other’s backs.
Twenty
Dylan
APHORISM: A literary statement characterized by its witty and concise expression of a widely accepted truth
Canyou meet me for coffee tomorrow morning?
I stare down at Monroe’s text for what must be the twentieth time today. She sent it yesterday. I already replied. We’re meeting in fifteen minutes, and yet I keep scrolling back to the message.
I have never met Monroe for coffee in my life. All of our meetings take place at the bar. Sure, I’d consider her a friend, and sure, we’ve hung out at a few events outside work, but we do not meet for coffee.
This has to mean something, and it probably isn’t good.
I even Googled ‘what does it mean when your boss asks you to get coffee’ last night. The results were not insightful. I’m going in blind.
I show up a few minutes early and decide to go ahead and order for myself. The place is average size for a cafe, with wood panelled walls and big front windows to let the light in. They have all these colourful knitted pillows on the chairs.
Renee would like it here.
The thought is followed by a pang I should be familiar with after the last few days, but it threatens to send me doubling over just the same.
I’ve been a coward. She wasn’t on for many shifts this week, and I purposefully arranged to be out running manager errands or on call when she was there. I told myself it was for her benefit, that I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but really I just don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do the next time I’m in a room with her. I don’t know how much time I can buy myself before I find an answer. I don’t even know if thereisan answer.
“Un Americano, s’il vous plait,” I order from the barista.
Even ordering coffee makes me think of Renee. Every fucking thing makes me think of Renee. I thought I was making the right choice, but I’ve never had a right choice feel so wrong. Difficult, sure. Dubious, yeah. Gut wrenchingly, wake up in the dead of night covered in sweat kind of wrong? Never.
Monroe arrives just as I’m sitting down at a table. It’s not even November yet, but she’s wearing her infamous puffy red winter jacket, the one that almost reaches to her knees—not that her height makes her knees particularly difficult to reach. She waves to me and motions that she’s going to order.
“Esti, it’s cold.” She borrows a swear word from the Québécois after she’s got her drink and pulls off the arctic explorer jacket before settling into the chair across from me. “It’s going to be a chilly Halloween. I don’t know if that will be better or worse for our party.”
We’re having a big Halloween event at the bar in a few days, and part of me perks up at the notion that she may have invited me here for a planning session, but she breezes right past the subject.
“So, one of the staff quit yesterday. She handed her resignation in to me.”
Monroe watches me like a poker player looking for tells, and I know it’s pointless to try keeping my face blank. I’m sure I’ve already let the bolt of shock and pain her words send through me make itself known. It drives itself too deep inside me to pretend it’s not there.
“Who?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
Monroe stares at me for another long moment before she confirms what I was already certain of. Her answer shouldn’t make me flinch, but I still have to pull in a sharp inhale I’m sure she doesn’t miss.
“Dylan,” she continues, “I know you probably want to protect her, but it’s really important that you tell me if anything happened between you and Renee that I should be worried about. She already quit. I’m not going to fire her. I’m not going to denounce her reputation from the rooftops of Montreal, okay?”
The mental image is enough to make me huff out of a laugh and diffuse the slightest amount of tension.
