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Her behavior is so strange right now. I can't figure this chick out, but I’m starting to question certain things because of it.
“Uh, yeah. Tomorrow,” I say, still staring at her like she's some sort of puzzle I can’t quite piece together.
She gives me a quick fake smile and a nod before the smile drops and she turns away from me.
I watch as she hustles through the lot, finally disappearing from my sight.
The more I see of her, the more questions I seem to collect.
The more I want to know.
9
Dylan
Colinsitsbackinhis recliner, finally surrounded by the warm yellow tones of his canary-colored room. I pop in a racing tape and turn the volume down to a comfortable level as I help him into his yellow-striped button-up.
“I'm going to make you some chicken noodle soup, alright?”
He nods, not making eye contact as he twists and untwists his fingers.
“I love you, Col.” I bend down, kissing the top of his head. “Everything's going to be fine.”
He feels embarrassed. I know he does. He wouldn't stop apologizing behind me as I carved Maureen a new asshole at Piggly Wiggly. Yeah, I may have overdone it when I called her a crusty cunt, but hey, it's factual information.
I walked him to the car, realizing my aggressive behavior was doing nothing to help keep him calm. Then I marched back in there, said a few more choice words to Maureen and the rest of the staff before chucking the new shirt on the floor and dramatically exiting the building. Just my luck, as I'm leaving, I see none other than Lake Decker exiting the Chinese restaurant in the strip mall right next to Piggly Wiggly.
I must seem like the strangest, most chaotic person to him, but I successfully dodged the situation and got out of there as quickly as humanly possible without needing to explain anything. I'm going to be forced to work with Cedric again, I just know it. Mammoth thighs to make ends meet.
As I'm stirring the chicken broth over the stove, I make a mental note to call the advisor at Easterseals to figure out a new plan moving forward with Colin and his future in the workforce. Maybe there's a better fit somewhere else out there, where he doesn't need to interact face to face with customers like at the grocery store. Those scenarios seem to be so unpredictable and challenge his ability to cope with changes. Plus, no one there seems to want to even attempt to understand or help him.
A knock at my door startles me, causing me to drop my soup spoon into the pot. I wipe my hands on the towel hanging on the stove before making my way to the peephole.
Carl.
I drop my head back, closing my eyes before letting out a deep breath, feeling an ache in the pit of my stomach. I let it out, then pop into peppy, put-together mode.
“Carl, hello,” I say upon opening the door. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Owe?” he asks in his gruff tone, his double chin jiggling beneath him as he talks. “Funny choice of words, Miss Crawford. Youoweme last month's rent.”
A whiff of stale cigarettes and sweat floods my nostrils, and I try my best not to show the look of disgust my face so eagerly wants to slip into.
I absentmindedly itch the side of my face. “You...uh, you didn't get my check?”
I'm an amazing actress. Oscar-worthy.
His arms cross over his chest, just barely able to reach over his engorged stomach. Hairy eyebrows, thick as wooly caterpillars, raise as he waits for me to continue. I hang onto the doorknob, still peeking out at him with a face full of fake confusion.
“You know I didn't get your check. Pay me by the end of the week or I'll evict you for real this time. Lord knows I deal with enough noise complaints.”
I grind my back teeth. He's referring to the complaints from the old woman beneath me in 1C who, unfortunately, has the pleasure of listening to Colin's late-night pacing. Or maybe it's the retired garbage man in 2D who dons a permanent dent in his forehead from incessant scowling and has the pleasure of hearing Colin hitting his head against the wall of his bedroom when he's mid-meltdown. It's not my fault they made these walls with construction paper, or that rent prices have skyrocketed while the overall income has not.
“You got it, Carl.” I give him a quick grin and a wink, shutting the door in his face.
I hear the loud thumps of his shuffle down the hallway as I turn my back against the door, sliding down to the floor.
It's okay. I'm going to figure this out. I'm going to do it. We'll be fine.
