Everyone nodded and people started getting up and ready to get going as I talked.
“I can get my clothes and stuff moved into the studio with Patrice tonight since he’s here until tomorrow. The woman I’m subletting from texted today and said I can go into the apartment anytime. She left the keys with you, right, Mamí?”
She patted her bag, which was already slung on her shoulder.
“Yes, I have them here, I can’t believe you aren’t staying here even one night.”
I had to nip the guilt tripping in the bud.
“Mamí, you know it’ll be easier for me. The studio is in Trumansburg, right by where I’ll be parking the truck overnight. It’s closer to the commercial kitchen space we’re renting. It just makes sense for me to be up there.”
She sighed and came over to pinch my cheek.
“Yo se, yo se.I just wanted to spoil you a little bit. Anyways,I took the week off so I can help you with the truck m’ijo. Tía Maritza will also help until you hire some people.”
Mamí was already headed for the door but called over to my sister who’d gone back to her room for something. “Minerva, vamonos m’ija, are you playing with that thing on your phone that gives you rabbit ears again?” She turned around to look at me. “She spends all day making faces at that thing!” She rolled her eyes, while the rest of us lost it, then went back to yelling in the direction of Minerva’s room. “Vamos muchachita! We need to help out your brother, and you have school tomorrow.”
Minerva hustled out, looking flustered. “Ay, Mamí, why are you yelling? I’m ready.” My sister hiked her thumb at me, as she walked to the door. “Vamonos, Ernesto.”
That was it, my people were ready and so was I. The Ithaca chapter of OuNYe was finally off and running.
chapter two
jude
It happened again. Misty Fields, that menace from fundraising, picked through my lunch. This morning I’d made a specific pattern with the blueberries on top of my saladandcounted them, so I could tell if my food had been tampered with.
I’d checked it before I stuffed it in the fridge and even labeled it with my name and the date. Now half of the blueberries were gone and the label looked like someone peeled it off and then tried to smooth it over. I sighed as I put the lid back on the container before shoving it back in the fridge. This what was my life had come to, psychological warfare in the break room.
I hurried back to my office and slumped in my chair located behind the circulation area of the Tompkins Public Library. I was the Youth Services Director here and shared an office with my coworker Carmen, who shot me some serious side-eye as soon as I walked in, letting me know she was aware of exactly what was going on. I fiddled with the mouse on my desk as the sound of an DM hitting my Slack channel pinged and a message from Carmen popped up.
BiblioCarmen: Did that bitch eat your lunch again?
Jude_Fuller: 100% definite yes. Half of the blueberries were gone. I even looked to see if they had sunk down to the bottom, but no. Someone picked through it and possibly tampered with the label. Who eats salad without dressing, Carmen? She’s sick.
BiblioCarmen: Her shit’s got to be pathological. Who DOES that? And it’s just your food she fucks with, because she knows you’re meticulous with your meals. You don’t see her messing with the frank and beans Bill brings every single day. *shudders* It’s so messed up. You should call her on it, Jude.
Riiight. That was not going to happen.
I was not the most confrontational person in the world, but I had a hard time keeping my mouth shut around bullies. Misty Fields was abully, and she seemed to have a gift of pushing my buttons, except I could not let her get to me right now. Misty was the grant manager for the library and knew she had me by the balls for the foreseeable future. I was a week away from taking another shot at getting my dream project approved by the board and she could totally mess with my plans.
I looked over my monitor at Carmen and rolled my eyes at her before starting to type a response.
Jude_Fuller: You know I can’t piss her off right now. She’s got half the board eating out of her hand, and the rest are clueless. If she says it’s not viable for this year’s fundraising efforts, I’m screwed and will need to sit out for another year. They’re not exactly open to new projects with all the cuts from the state.
I heard her sigh from across the room.
BiblioCarmen: I know. I KNOW. She’s just so annoying and evil. I mean someone touching your food is practically psychological torture for you.
Jude_Fuller: She IS evil, I agree, but we have to bide our time. We need the mobile library project operating next school year. The need is there, most of the kids in the rural parts of the county never come out here, and the stuff that’s available in the schools is not enough. Not to mention schools banning queer books left and right!
BiblioCarmen: I am 100% with you, and you’re right, we just have to wait until we have our book truck, and then we can run her ass over with it.
I couldn’t help it; I cracked up and made the “stop it” sign with my hands. She smiled and went back to typing.
BiblioCarmen: Let’s blow this place off and take our lunch out. Did you see the new food truck parked at the gas station? It’s covered with practically every flag in the Caribbean, which makes me so excited I could cry. Unless it’s some poser from Brooklyn, which would be tragic. I did see a guy by the truck when I was walking in this morning, and he is fiiiiine. Had them Latinx vibes, so we’ll get lunch and a view.
I’d been distracted listening to a podcast when I was walking into work, and must have missed the truck, but I perked up at the mention of Caribbean food. I wondered if it was the same one the sexy weirdo from the gas station had been driving.
