Page 6 of Locked Down In Watch Hill
“She doing okay?”
“Meaning what?”
“You know, like how everyone is.” Tyler gave me a blank look. “It’s been a tough time these last couple months. She okay?”
“Seems like it.” I shrugged. “In quarantine, but she said she doesn’t have symptoms.”
“That’s really good.” Tyler turned back to the final pizzas of the night and covered the one closest to him in shredded mozzarella. “My aunt in Milwaukee has the virus. She called yesterday, and she’s actually pretty sick.”
“That’s too bad.” I felt bad for him but also exhausted. At this point, everyone I knew had a family member or friend who’d been sick with the virus, and the stories ran the gamut. A few didn’t feel sick at all and others ... others weren’t as lucky. “I hope she gets better soon.”
“Me too.”
He moved his attention to the pizza, and we got back to work. When we finished, he insisted on making the final deliveries while I balanced the register and closed the shop. As I did, I remembered Ashley’s receipt in my pants pocket. I hadn’t added it to the pile of credit card slips and gift card redemptions. I studied it for a few moments before I ripped it in half and tossed the pieces into the nearby wastebasket. Ashley was quarantined because of exposure to a virus that wasn’t her fault. She could use a break, and despite all the adversity, I was about to end the month with some extra to spare.
The pizza was on me.
***
ASHLEY
“So, Watch Hill Pizza is really good,” I told my sister on video chat just before I bit into my second slice. There was something about the crust that made the pie distinctive, and whatever it was, I wanted more of it. Immediately. “I mean, why haven’t I eaten there before?”
“When I read all the decent reviews online, I knew I had to get you that gift card,” my sister replied, her voice loud and scratchy despite the often-unreliable connection between my apartment and hers. “Especially since it’s just around the corner from your place.”
I nodded, chomping on a bite. She knew me well enough to know I was grateful.
“Too bad you have to eat it all by yourself.” The corners of my sister’s mouth turned down. “And too bad we aren’t in Cabo.”
I winced. “And I have all those credits now.”
Despite the setback, I was determined to see things in a positive light and focus only on that. I couldn’t wallow forever and I knew it. Maybe the delicious pizza had given me a little courage ...andthe red wine I’d found hiding in the pantry. I’d forgotten all about it, and it was a decent bottle. That also made the evening brighter.
“We’ll be there soon,” I added. “Once this is all over, you’ll come with me to Mexico. Soon enough, we’ll have our toes in the sand, drink in our hand, and the sunset in front of us.” Then I thought about it some more. “I mean, the only person I’ve seen in days is the pizza delivery guy, the one who dropped this off tonight.”
“The delivery guy, huh?” My sister’s eyebrows waggled. “This sounds like the opening of one of those bad pornos.”
“It isn’t, trust me.” I sipped some more red wine. “He owns the place, actually, and it turns out I met him before. We were at the same New Year’s Eve party.”
“New Year’s Eve,” she said on a sigh. “I would give anything to go to another New Year’s Eve party.”
“Me too. At least that last one was decent.” I marveled at the party, wondering if a night like that would only become a distant memory, never to be a part of my future. “People had no idea what was coming. They just ... they were just living their lives as if nothing bad would ever happen. And there he was, ordering vodka sodas next to me. It was ... he was nice. And it was good to see him again tonight.”
“Sounds more promising that anything happening to me up here. I’m almost jealous.”
“Don’t be. Trust me, he’s the only meaningful in-person conversation that I’ve had in forever.”
“When we get through this, I’m not going to take any one of those for granted again. Not even small talk.”
“Agreed. Small talk is underrated.”
We ended our conversation a few minutes later, my sister getting off the connection so she could binge watchAll In,a prestige television series set in the 1960s that had fabulous online reviews. I hung, surveyed the remaining half of the pizza and decided to box it up before I made the mistake of eating too much at once.
Once it was satisfyingly in the refrigerator, I sprawled across my bed and opened the Internet search app. What could I say? The long hours of isolation that came with quarantining gave me plenty of time to read meaningless articles and look up random things. In fact, “looking up random things” had become one of my favorite pastimes. There wasn’t a miniscule detail, obscure arrest record, or public record I couldn’t find.
Too bad my Internet sleuthing skills didn’t make me more employable. It would be nice to have steady, honest work instead of living in the purgatory that came with freelancing. Still, freelancing was better than nothing at all, and it allowed me to supplement my severance pay from the hotel.
Kyle Ross had the usual Internet trail. Standard social media accounts, a few photos snapped and tagged by friends, and a write-up in the local magazine when he took over Watch Hill Pizza, a place he told the writer he hoped to turn around by revamping the menu to focus on his grandmother’s dough recipe.
