Page 9 of Mixed Connection
Don’t I know it. Coming!
I slip on my sneakers before walking towards slipping through the door to head downstairs. As soon as I close the door I can hear Paloma unlocking the front door of the bar and welcoming our book club patrons. Tonight it’s all about secret identity witha splash of childhood sweetheart. The group is brimming with excitement to chat it up, their laughter filling the room causes me to smile too.
As I’m lining up the tart cherry tequila shots that I dubbed Crimson Bonds after the blood-red color, and also the name of the book for this month, one of the girls comes over. “Hi Cassidy, thank you again for hosting us here.”
“Toya! You know I love hosting as much as you enjoy coming.” Delight flitting through my tone. “I hear you ladies are switching over to dark fantasy next month? Maybe I can come up with a new drink for you… just let me know, okay?”
She hums to herself before saying, “Maybe something with fire and whiskey! Our female main character loves whiskey.”
“Say less, babe!”
The night wears on, but no new customers come in who aren’t already here for book club. Once Paloma finishes unpacking the crate of wine, she walks over, hands me a bottle, and all but pushes me out of our bar to relax.
“You are here every moment of every day, take your ass home and don’t come back down, girl. Try the wine and let me know if you think it works for Shaken. Bye bitch!” She blows me a kiss and I swear my eyes are going to get stuck in the back of my head with how hard I roll them.
I take her advice and tread back up the stairs knowing the wine is going to be incredible. My fuzzy bunny slippers are calling my name.
Three glasses of the sweetest red wine I have ever tasted later, and everything feels too hot. When I came upstairs from the bar I just wanted to breathe. Forgoing changing into my tankand pajama shorts, I threw my clothes in the laundry room and wrapped myself in my soft cotton robe. Though even the deep purple robe feels too warm against my skin.
I notch the air conditioner on and untie my robe before turning up the old school R&B music that is pumping through my speakers. I catch a glimpse of myself in the floor-length mirror in my room as I sway to the song. The smart lights glow and flow smoothly, pulsing along with the beat of the music in deep pinks and dark oranges. The set of lingerie I have on is my favorite, and I wear it often because it makes me feel damn good. The panties sit high up on my hips, the outline of my belly prominent, as is my cleavage. I take the opportunity to bend over, twist, and move my body to the music as I dance, and snap full-body pictures along with favorite areas of my body.
Lying over the edge of my bed, my hair just barely touching the floor from the height of the frame. I roll over, pulling my sheets over me, wanting to scroll through the pictures I took. Wanting to get rid of the ones I’m not fond of. I click on the photos app but my phone pings with a reminder, drawing my attention to something more interesting.
Send your new friend Jameson a message!
The notification stays there for a few moments before I decide I will, in fact, send him a message, and show him exactly what he is missing. Flicking through the pictures, I look over a couple I snapped while on my bed, my heart skipping a beat as I hover over my favorite before clicking share. I rattle a message to him, pouring a bit of brat into it as my fingers move rapidly over the keyboard. The moment I hit “send”, a wave of clarity along with the heat of embarrassment overtakes me, climbing up my neck, face, and ears. What the fuck was I thinking? Sending a man I barely know racy photos of me. My gaze slowly drifts to the empty bottle of wine and I consider how I feel. I’m a grown-asswoman and I can send photos to whomever I please. It was ayesthat, when I sit here and think about it, I’m proud of. I hope he drools himself into oblivion for what he’s missing out on. Satisfied with myself again, the wine finally hits my system, and I doze off.
4
Mama
We’re rollin’ with the homies, as you kids say.
Pops
Honey, no one says that.
*laughing emoji* Take plenty of pics Mama.
Music thumps from the bluetooth speaker that I set on the vanity. I packed a couple of speakers with me to bring to this project. I knew I was going to be staying here until the tenant was out of my parents’ place and then I would make that my temporary home.
My mom often talked about traveling the world in their‘suped upcamper as my dad called it. An RV that neither of them owned until I was halfway through my freshman year of college. Once I was settled into college life it seemed like those two madea beeline to the closest RV dealership, they couldn’t be out of there quicker. “A push present to Mama,” Pops said. I remember telling him that she pushed me into this world eighteen years ago and he quickly said he’d push me right out the door too if I kept up my back talk. We laughed, but I knew he was somewhat serious.
They left the house to me after they got the tricked out camper and said totreat her right,and that’s what I’ve been doing. I knew they thought I would flip her and use it as a starter fund and in a way, I did. But instead of selling it to someone else, I kept it and worked on it when I had down time before renting it out.
My parents bought this land and the tiny house it was sitting on. Throughout the years they remodeled, building on rooms and enlarging others, they really made it something of their dreams, I couldn’t put a price tag on sentimentality.
They’ve been all over the place, and are currently somewhere close to the Glacier National Park, getting their sights in. I shake my head, knowing I’ll be getting a load of pictures of the same mountain from my mom soon.
The water is starting to run cold, so I turn it off and step out of the shower. My plans were to flip this house, one I very much need a name for. I always name my projects something that evokes what the house could feel like to potential buyers, and bring quick cash flow into Crew Construction and Consult. But the more and more I work on this particular property, the less I want to sell it. Making it a short-term rental property may be the better way to go; I’m not sure why I never thought of it for this house.
I pull my lips in as I consider the other property I bought at the same time as this one—it’s in a better area to sell. It’s a two hour flight from here, which is great since I’ll need to go visit that location when I’m about halfway done with this one.
Tucking the towel in tightly around my waist, a notification interrupts the music only for a second, reminding me I need to get a move on. Project management needs to start for this new house if I am going to stay on target to finish in eight weeks. It’s tight, but it is possible given the house has great bones and doesn’t need much work, it’s all cosmetic and add-ons.
Being back in my hometown is most definitely a blast from the past, this place holds a lot of great memories for me. I’ve come back occasionally for meetings at Crew’s home office but I wasn’t staying for fun. More in and out to get a job done before I’m needed on another project.
When I got the reunion invitation in the mail, I knew I wanted to be here. Not because I wanted to relive any of my past, but because I knew I would get a chance to catch up with people I hadn’t seen in years. And yeah, okay, maybe show off a bit. I’ve changed a lot since high school like everyone has, I assume. I’m proud of the life I’ve built for myself; my confidence wasn’t sky-high during school and now, I feel pretty damn good about myself.
