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Cash turns his head towards me, his hair falling onto his forehead again.
“Next time I’ll train you on the register,” he offers.
I can’t help the smile that spreads on my face. “Does this mean I get to come back?” I ask giddily, figuring today was my test and I failed miserably. Not only do I need this job, but I’m beginning to like the company.
“Yeah, if you park the attitude,” he says, but I have a feeling he doesn’t mean it.
“Yes da…” he gives me a warning look, “boss,” I correct with a smile.
“And wear more sensible shoes next time.” He points to my ankle boots which I have to admit are not the most comfortable, even if they are fashionable.
I click my boots together. “Yes, boss.” I have a feeling he doesn’t like being called ‘boss’ either, but it’s better than ‘dad’.
“Follow me,” he walks down the hallway and I dutifully trail after him.
Kneeling over the damaged boxes, he starts sifting through one and pulls a couple of records out.
“This one is a must listen to on a record player. Do you have one?” he asks me, holding aCredence Clearwater Revivalalbum.
My mouth finally catches up to my brain. “Yeah, my grandparents do.” I move over to where he stands and look at the pile he’s creating.
“This one,” he holds up theLed Zeppelin IValbum, and I narrow my eyes, “is better on vinyl.” He slaps it onto the pile.
I start picking through the rest of the albums he’s stacked up for me,Eagles, Steely Dan, Steve Miller Band, Tom Pettyare all ones I know and love.
“Grand Funk Railroad?” Holding it up in front of me I scrunch my nose. “I have never heard of this band.”
He snatches it from me. “Underrated, but they will blow your mind.” He taps my head with the album and then hands it back to me. I could listen to him talk about music all day. It’s like someone flipped a switch and he came to life, so different from the grumpy boss I have worked with up until now. It makes me wonder what’s under all those layers of his.
“Now we’re getting into the good stuff,” he says, seemingly more to himself than to me as he pulls out a few more albums.
I lean in close as he holds them up. “The Kinks.” He tosses it on the top of the pile. “The Ramones, Dead Kennedys, INXS…”He inspects one of the albums and tosses it back in the other pile. “Eh, I was never a fan ofBuzzcocks, butThe Cure…” he pauses, inspecting the album, “is life.”
“Did you know any of them?” I ask, excitedly. “Like personally?” It sounds like he has some really great band stories.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” he says with a secretive smile, and my eyes suddenly focus on his lips.
I look away to the pile of records in front of me. “You’re giving all of these to me?” I ask, confused.
“You said you liked Classic Rock, but consider the rest as part of your training.” He winks at me causing heat to rise into my face. I watch as he walks down the hall, admiring the view as he leaves me alone again.
5
I AM MY MOTHERS DAUGHTER
SASHA
I Put a Spell On You by Credence Clearwater Revival
Igently place the vinyl record onto the turntable. When I flip the switch, the needle drops into the grooves and music fills the room.Credence Clearwater Revivalcroons from the speaker on my floor while I lie on my bed and tap my bare feet against the wall.
The volume is low, and I close my eyes listening to the lyrics. The song has a sultry, ominous vibe as he sings about the lost love of a woman he longed to get back. There’s something about music from the seventies that is unbridled, tumultuous, and volatile. It makes me think of things I shouldn’t.
I miss lying in bed with Danny, the music on, his fingers dancing across my skin like he was playing chords on his guitar. When he looked at me my heart beat faster, and I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, promises of love and lust. I miss midnight kisses in his car, and the rush of adrenaline at just the thought of him.
But I don’t misshim.
I miss theideaof him.
