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I can’t reply to him because the prison’s email system is still new and I’d literally have to pen and ink a letter and throw a stamp on it to do so. I’m assuming he talked to Taryn. I wasn’t technically invited to the funeral—I just heard about it. Taryn didn’t know I was there, but I was. Watching from the shadows of the trees like a coward. The service was nice, but short. I paid my respects and then sent a card. What more did they want from me?
But deep down, I know I should have been there for Taryn and her family. To stand in for Eric since he couldn’t be there. But I’d let her do it alone. Eric’s right. I have nothing to say in my defense except that I loved their mom and her sudden death had hit me hard.
All those days and nights I spent at their place because my own parents were too drunk or high to have gone to the grocery store and put food in the house. The times I had to shoplift a few snacks so I wouldn’t go to bed hungry. The sandwiches Mrs. Andrews made me that I took to school for lunch every day because my lunch account was at $0.00 and my mom hadn’t filled out the forms to get me free lunch. I remember those forms piled up on the dining room table, littered amongst trash and empty tequila and beer bottles. Eventually, I just forged them and was able to get a hot lunch every day. But that was the only hot meal I got. And I was grateful for that.
I would never look at sad, square cheese pizza the same again, though.
I shudder at the memory and stare at Eric’s email again. Then, something catches my eye. Is that areplybutton?
I click it and am overjoyed to see they’ve fixed their system.
I type out a quick comeback:
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Really?
Eric, you’re right. I’m sorry. ~C
I hitsendand lean back in my seat. It’s really all I can say for now.
My cell phone beeps with a text. I look down at it.
Richelle:Do you remember my Netflix password?
I roll my eyes and set the phone down. I can’t with this woman. Why won’t she just leave me alone? Better yet, why haven’t I blocked her number?
A knock interrupts my thoughts.
“Come in,” I call.
“IT is here. Conference room?” Briana asks.
“Here is fine,” I reply.
She opens the door wider and my four Information Technology employees walk in. Briana grabs two chairs from the corner of the room and drags them next to the two that are already set up in front of my desk.
“Sit,” I instruct. “Y’all want coffee or anything?”
They grumble no or shake their heads.
“Meeting notes?” Briana asks.
“Yes, please. But I have no more chairs. You want mine?” I ask.
She shakes her head no and stands in the corner. I hate when she does that. I feel like an asshole for making her stand but if I insist she sit, she’ll just chirp about how she sits all day and she’s fine where she is.
“What can I help you boys with?” I ask my all-male IT department.
IT manager, Jeff Chin, speaks up first. “To cut to the chase here, boss. We need some help.”
“With what?” I ask.
“Well, I’m covering the internal things like employee pay, timecards, and accounting. Jason, Lars, and Matt are covering the app developments and rollouts, among other things. We need more help with that stuff. They’re working up to twelve-hour days because we also have to cover computer-related stuff for people in the office. Another body would cut down on hours and us taking work home.”
I nod. “I see. Do you need another fulltime employee?”
