“But, I…”
I continued, “So since you’ve been fired without notice, per our policy I will be giving you two additional weeks of severance pay.” Realization dawned on her young face. “And if you ever need a reference or letter of recommendation, don’t hesitate.”
Selene wiped tears as they started to climb over her eyelids.. “You’ve been the best boss ever,” she said.
“I know,” I said, grabbing my manager notebook and the cash drawer.
Once I was in the office, I got to work counting the bills and updating the tracker on food we would need to reorder. I double-checked my labor costs and balanced it with the profits from the week. Losing Selena would make the schedule tight until I could hire someone new. Especially with how limited my other employees were with their availability. As manager, I picked up every dropped shift, and I didn’t mind. I loved Lucky Lanes. This was been my first and only job. I worked my way up. For the last few years, I’d set aside a portion of each paycheck into the equity of the business, with the goal of one day owning it.
Mr. Mike Kenzin had never outright denied me a pathway to ownership, but boy oh boy, did he make it complicated.
He had put all these stipulations in place, conditions I had to meet. My first option was to continue to work here and put aside cash for a downpayment, then wait to turn thirty-five “If you’re old enough to run for president, then you’re old enough to take on Lucky Lanes,” he had grunted. The other option was similar, only instead of an age restriction, Mike wanted me to “get settled down” and have a family. “Traditional American values,” he had said. I reminded him, the way you remind a grumpy yet loving grandparent, that I was as lesbian as the day is long.. He had squinted at me. “What does that have to do with anything? You need a family, you need roots to keep you here. I’m not going to sell Lucky Lanes to some drifter.”
I had never been a drifter, as evidenced by my employment record. While it was ridiculous that Mike felt entitled to make these kinds of restrictions of me, I knew that he was coming from a good place. A kind-hearted but really inconvenient place.
I looked over the alley as I left. So many years and memories here. I wanted Lucky Lanes to be a safe and welcoming place for the community. I closed up, locked the door, and patted the handle twice to say goodnight.
Chapter Three
Maeda
It was a hot day. Dolly was out in New Haven with her dad. The house felt quiet and still — the way it always did when she wasn’t home. I moved like a fog cloud. Tristan had picked up Dolly the night before, and it had been tense. Again.
I kissed her cheeks and told her to have fun and be good, which she always was. She was a good kid. I made sure she had her favorite stuffed animal, but once the car door closed, Tristan moved in on me.
“You should come home,” he said.
“This is my home now,” I reminded him.
“I miss you, I miss us. We are a family, we should be a family.”
I shook my head. “We’ve been over this a hundred times, Tristian. We were never good for each other.”
“That’s not entirely true.” He ran a hand up and down my arm, my entire body locked up in defense. “There were a few ways we were great together.”
I stepped back, “We spent years trying to make it work, and it wasn’t enough. Isn’t that what you said when you cheated on me with your coworker?”
Tristan ran a hand through his sandy waves. “She didn’t mean anything. It was just that we were so young when we had Dolly and got married, and I never had a chance to go out and have fun.”
I took a deep breath. “Tristan, I’m tired.”
“I miss you,” he tried to plead.
I shook my head. “We are not having this conversation again. I need to go inside and finish some work. I’ll see you Sunday night.” I put my hand on Dolly’s window in the shape of “I love you” in American Sign Language — my thumb, pointer finger, and pinky out. She reached out with the same gesture. My heart squeezed. Tristan had walked around back into the driver’s seat.
“Alright, Dolly Girl! Time for our car concert!” Then, he started the playlist that we shared called “Cutest Co-Pilot,” and they started scream-singing her current favorite song, “The Summoning” by Sleep Token.
What a wild little five year old.
It was late afternoon on Saturday. The sun was shining. A neighbor’s cat was stretched out on my patio fence. My wind chimes were making a beautiful soft trickle of sound and the sun-catcher shaped like a spider cast rainbows all along the living room from the sunlight.
I had about an hour until community day at The Center, and I was mostly convinced I should go. Meaning: I couldn’t finda good reason not to go. What was the alternative? Sitting in silence or zoning out to some steaming service and a rerun of an old TV show?
No, I needed to go. I needed roots. Something to ground me here, something to make it easier to stay every time Tristan tried to pull me back into his world. Because if I was being honest, staying with him would have been easier. Bills would have been paid. Dolly would have had everything she wanted. I wouldn’t have to work. For years, I had to rely on Tristan and his family. Their money. Their generosity. But, it came with strings attached. It loomed over me like a shoe waiting to drop. Frequent little digs at me to remind me to be grateful that I didn’t need to make decisions. Just smile, say thank you, and don’t have any personal drive or desires, or else, be deemed ungrateful.
I had become a wife in name only. He was sleeping around, while I was in a gilded cage. I’d forever be an accessory. We got married after a short fling that brought us Dolly. His family insisted, and it was easy to fall into the steps that I was told to take.
But, I was miserable. I felt trapped, and most importantly, I didn’t feel loved. I felt like Tristan had love for me because I brought Dolly into the world. And, Tristan was a good dad. He’s just a terrible partner. What we had was a bit of lust that turned into a mutual responsibility. Was it so wrong to want to be independent?
