“Don’t tell him!” She says.
“He’s not here. I’m in the kitchen working and he’s out on the mountain,” I tell her.
“Whatever, I better not see you on the news tomorrow as missing or dead. I will never forgive you,” she says.
“Good thing I’d be dead,” I tell her to break the tension.
“Not funny,” she says through grinded teeth.
“Okay Lans, well, I promise I’ll call you tomorrow or something. I’ve gotta get back to working,” I tell her.
“I still don’t get it, but okay, you better. And remember,pizzais the word for emergencies only!” she clarifies.
“Got it! Love ya!” I tell her.
“Love you,” she says and then hangs up.
Well that was stressful.
For a second I just stand behind the bar, towel in hand, letting the stillness of the place settle into me. The low murmur of a customer finishing his drink, the clink of Raul's glasses, the smell of fryer oil and something faintly sweet—I feel like I’m inside a moment I don’t want to leave. It’s small, but it’s mine.
I wipe down the counters one last time, even though they’re already clean. I don’t know why I’m doing it—it’s just something to do with my hands.
That anxious little voice in my head creeps in, the one that always shows up when things feel too good.
Could I really live like this?
Waking up early, working a shift, snowboarding after lunch, cooking dinner with Aspen... It’s kind of a dream. A small dreammaybe, but still a dream; something real, something mine. Then, just as quickly, the voice twists.
But for how long?
What if Raul doesn’t need me next week? What if Aspen realizes I’m just some bored, rich girl playing pretend in a kitchen for a weekend? What if this whole thing is just a detour before I go back to being exactly who I was: miserable in lecture halls, pretending to care about a degree I never asked for?
I feel my chest tighten. What if I’m not actually good at anything? Not good enough to keep this, not brave enough to leave what I know. My parents would cut me off; no more tuition, no more car, no more safety net.
I look down at the towel in my hand, soaked and dripping onto the floor. I don’t even remember turning on the sink.
This isn’t just about school or work. It’s about feeling like I’m constantly trying to be someone for everyone else; my parents, my professors, even Aspen sometimes. I’m so used to molding myself to fit what people expect that I don’t even know what I want half the time.
But today felt different, for once, I wasn’t trying. I just was, and somehow that was enough.
The day was now over and Aspen came back in to grab me and let me know he was about to clock out. Raul nodded me off as he’s wiping the counter top of the bar and told me to call it a day.
“Nice work today, Gen. You impressed me. See you tomorrow?” He asks me.
“Thanks Raul, see you tomorrow!” I assure him.
Raul continues wiping the counter when I notice him nearly fall back. He catches himself in time, but he looked as if he was about to fall back and go to sleep.
“Are you okay?” I ask him.
“Oh yeah, don’t worry about me. Just a little sleepy that’s all,” Raul says like it’s a routine he’s practiced.
“Okay,” I say a little weary. I’m not sure if I believe him.
Raul looks more than tired, he looks like he hasn’t slept in years, like he’s stressed. I don’t blame the guy though, running a business doesn’t look easy.
Now I’m even more happy that I helped him today.
