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After three cups of coffee, a morning yoga routine, and a cold shower, I feel semi-human. I started yoga with Ricole about six months ago, and it has made a colossal improvement to my posture and flexibility. Any time I feel tense or stressed, I try to go through a quick flow of my favorite poses: cat-cow, downward dog, plank, thread the needle, and child’s pose. It’s simple, but I carry a lot of tension in my neck, so these particular poses help release that. I’ve looked up a few classes in the area, but I don’t feel quite confident enough to practice with other people yet. Living room yoga taught by YouTube it is.
It’s still too early to get ready for my dinner with Andreas, so I order a new deadbolt lock for same-day delivery, clean my apartment, and call my mom. I’ll leave out the haunted door debacle.
“Alana!! I was just talking to Mrs. Yoder about you at the grocery store earlier today!” My mom answers excitedly. My mom is always down for a phone call. Her excitement makes me grin.
“Oh? I hope you were telling her and everyone how well I’m doing in Indy. I finally got a new battery for Greta, and by the time my lease is up in four months, I’ll have enough to rent a cute house in a better neighborhood.”
“Of course, I was bragging about you, AlliCat. That’s all I ever do, you know that. She had asked me how you were doing after the breakup, and I told her you were relieved to be out of a loveless relationship. Any time someone brings Greg up, I make it sound like you stayed out of obligation. I refuse to let anyone believe that turd duped you.”
I can picture her round face with the same gray eyes as me, alight with fury. Her cheeks are redder than a stop sign, and she’s most likely combing her hand through her hair every five seconds. She’s always had the same mad face, even when I was a kid. I can take one look at the woman and tell you exactly what she’s feeling. She’s an open book.
“You’re ridiculous, but I appreciate you sticking up for me. I guess it was a loveless relationship if he cheated so easily. But I don’t wanna talk about that. I’ve wasted enough time and energy on that shitstain. Pardon my French. What’s Dad been up to? I miss you guys so much.”
My dad is a pack rat with a Goodwill problem. He simply can’t say no to a thrift store, yard sale, or garage sale. I forbade my mom from showing him how the Facebook marketplace works. Otherwise, he’d buy them out of house and home. He’s a short man with a big attitude and an even bigger temper. I was terrified to disappoint him growing up, but now he’s one of my best friends.
“You know your dad. He’s out in the back room playing with the dog, and he swears he’s going to use the treadmill this week. He’s a mess, and I swear if he buys one more Hotwheel, I’m sending him to live with you. Our house is turning into an episode of Hoarders.” She sounds serious, but she knew who my dad was when she married him. They’re still just as in love now as they were thirty years ago.
We talk on the phone for close to an hour, gossiping about my hometown and catching up on what we’ve missed since we spoke last week. Before we get off the phone, my mom says, “Now, Al, please tell me you are coming down for a visit soon. I want to go try this new Mexican place that just opened, but your dad hates leaving the house.”
“I’m gonna try to shoot for three weeks from now. I just have to get the weekend requested off. They have plenty of cover, so they’ll approve it. I gotta go run some errands, Mom. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”
After I hang up the phone, I scroll through my phone until I realize it’s after one. My purse secured on my shoulder, I head downstairs, triple-checking that I shut and locked my apartment door since I have an appointment to get my hair trimmed and styled in thirty minutes. I take a picture of the door for proof that I’m not going nuts, just in case I come home to it standing open again. I smile and wave to one of my neighbors as I hop behind the wheel and pull up the salon, Cutting Edge, on Apple Maps. It’s not far, but I still don’t entirely trust my sense of direction. It says it’s a ten-minute drive, so I turn on an episode of my favorite podcast and head that way.
24
Chapter Twenty Four
Andreas
This has been a Monday from hell. It’s only ten in the morning, and I’ve had two conference calls with the HR Department. We hired a dishwasher at one of our Ohio locations who was sexually harassing underage servers, and I had to handle the ensuing issues. There were also issues with a system crash that had card servers down all over Indiana.
I need a fucking drink.
Just as I slide into the driver’s seat of my car, my phone rings and I audibly groan before I see it’s my dad. “Hello.“
I’m hopeful he can’t hear the annoyance and frustration in my voice.
“Hey son, how’s your Monday going?”
I debate lying and telling him it’s going well, but I could probably use some sage advice. I opt for the truth. “Well, Dad, it’s been a fucking nightmare since I opened my eyes.”
My dad chuckles. “Well, that’s a good start to the week. Look, I know being the boss is tough, but you’re doing a great job. You’ve got the weight of the company on your shoulders, but you’re going to make it through this. Just think. Tomorrow is Tuesday, and it’s a fresh start.”
I appreciate the sentiment, but it doesn’t change the fact that today is ass.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say. “I’ve got to run, though. I’ve got an appointment to get to.”
“Alright, son. Love you. Take care of yourself,” he says.
I toss my phone onto the passenger seat and crank up the radio, hoping the music will distract me from my bad day. The drive is short, and I reach the store in record time because traffic is next to nothing.
I park and enter through the wide front doors, and I’m taken aback. This store just went through phase one of a remodel, and it looks amazing. The entrance looks brighter and more inviting than before. There’s an enormous neon sign with the name flashing right as you walk in. The bold lettering is an attention getter for sure. Excellent choice.
The inside of the bar is even more impressive. Gone are the dingy walls and outdated furniture; instead, there are sleek leather stools and booths, along with new flat-screen TVs. The smell of cooked wings and spicy sauce wafts through the air, and I feel my stomach cramp from hunger.
As I look around more closely, I spot the franchise store manager in conversation with one of his employees near a large window looking out onto the street below. He looks up as soon as he notices me entering the room and greets me warmly before leading me into his office deep inside the store.
We sit down, and he explains finances. “Things are high for this time of year. The profit margins are great, even with the inflation of goods. If we keep this up, we’ll break records next year. People can’t stop talking about how much better it looks in here. The remodel was a tremendous success,” he says.
