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“Love you, too,” I reply and the call goes dead. I dump hot sauce and some chopped peppers into the tortilla and fold it up.
I contemplate his words as I eat my breakfast burrito for lunch. Be careful? What does he know that I don’t?
I shake my head, realizing he’s just being a territorial ass, and finish my burrito, quickly changing the TV to something more watchable before I have to go over to my mom’s to start on her kitchen.
***
“Thanks for all yourhelp.” I smile at Christa as I wash my hands in the sink. She’d been at work all day but offered to come over and help me pack up the kitchen.
“Of course, girl. But hey... Since your brother’s moving in here, don’t you think you should leave some stuff?” Christa suggests, wiping her hands on her short-shorts.
I nod. “I plan to. I’m gonna get rid of all the food though, it’ll be no good in a year. I’ll leave some dishes, cups, and pots and pans. Maybe the stuff in the spice cabinet. But that’s it. He can get the rest himself.”
“Think he’ll find a job after he gets out?” she asks, tossing expired boxes of cereal, crackers, and flour into a trash bag.
I lift a shoulder. “Hard to say. He’s got the degree but he’ll have to find someplace that will hire a convicted felon.”
“True,” she comments as she goes back into the pantry to get rid of things. “I’m just glad you already found a job. Girl, I was so worried!”
I laugh. “Got lucky, I think.”
“There’s nothing about luck, you’re more than qualified for that job. It’s nice you know the owner though.”
“I’m still nervous to work with him. I’ve known him forever, and he’s super hot,” I admit.
“Ooh, an office crush already. Lord knows there was no eye candy at all at Mills.”
Chuckling, I open another cabinet and begin gathering all the extra dishes and putting them in a box. “Girl, I can’t be flirting with my boss. I’ll get in trouble or something. The HR lady seems like a hard-ass. I’m sure she’ll be watching me like a hawk.”
“You guys can have secret dates outside of working. Why is sneaking around so fun and exciting?” She giggles and pitches a bag of chips into the trash bag.
“I don’t know but you’re right, it is. But it’s not going to be like that with him. I’m sure he has a girlfriend, anyway,” I state. The guy’s gorgeous, flirtatious, and rich. No way he doesn’t have a few girls sniffing around him.
Once we finish with the kitchen, we pile the trash inside and next to the bins outside and stack the boxes in the garage. I can’t call the junk removal place until I know how much they’re going to have to haul off.
It’s getting late, so I hug Christa and thank her for helping me. I drive back to my condo and once inside, I heat up some leftover pizza and sit on the sofa, clearing out all the notifications on my phone. I’d left it in the car while I was at my mom’s. An email catches my eye so I open it to see it’s from the HR lady, Lisa, at Lockwood Technologies. My stomach swirls with excitement when I see the official job offer in writing, with a start date of Monday. Attached are all the usual new employee forms and she asks that I fill out as much as I can before I arrive Monday. I make a mental note to do it from my laptop tomorrow.
Tonight, I’m exhausted. I have so much on my mind it’s wearing me out. I think about Eric getting out in less than a year and worry about what I’m going to do with him. I feel responsible for making sure he succeeds after he’s released. I’ve read too much about recidivism rates of people who are released from prison and how a lot end up going back because they don’t function well in society. I realize Eric’s a one-time offender and didn’t grow up surrounded by crime, and I also know how much he loathes prison—though, I can’t imagine that anyone would truly enjoy it and come out with pleasant memories.
I tell myself I’ll worry about him when he gets out. For now, all I can do is make sure Mom’s place is ready for him, and then help him find work.
I miss my mom something fierce and keep having to remind myself that I can’t just pick up the phone and call her. She was the first one I wanted to call when Carter offered me the job. I just know she’d be happy to hear that I’m going to be working for him. She always liked Carter—felt sorry for him that he was left alone a lot. I felt bad for him, too, but he always seemed like a happy guy when he was over, never showing signs of being miserable or stressed. He’s always been a driven, resourceful guy, that much I know. And now he owns what I can only assume is a million-dollar business that he built from the ground up. He has to be super proud of himself. Honestly, I’m proud of him, too.
I throw my paper plate into the trash and plug my phone into its charger. I have to go back to Mom’s tomorrow and keep cleaning. I have the rest of the week to do it so that gives me a goal to get it all done, because come Monday, I know I won’t want to spend my nights and weekends doing it.
After a hot shower, I fall into bed and close my eyes but only see Carter’s face behind my eyelids.
