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“You should be proud of yourself, too, you know.”
“I am. And even if Apollo isn’t my home going forward, I’m thankful that we got to meet.”
“As am I,” she said warmly. “And maybe, at the end of the day, don’t let Melvin steal all the praise.”
“I’ve wrestled with that. But as long as I have you and my team as a reference, I’ll find another job. And Melvin can say whatever he likes.”
She smirked at me around the rim of her cup. “That’s very mature of you. Butmaturityisn’t always the most fun.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I warned. “I’m working on creating a new life motto.”One that doesn’t reference a soulful drug addict from a ’90s television show.
Nancy sat on my living room couch, squinting at the aquarium. “You want me to do what?” she asked.
I was already starting to wonder if I’d made a bad choice in seeking her out. “I want you to feed my fish while I’m gone. It’ll only be a few days. I wish I didn’t have to go on this work trip at all,” I grumbled. Vegas might sound like fun, but it represented the end of so many things, instead of hanging out with Elvis impersonators and gambling.
“Okay. Feed the fish. What if they die?”
I looked at her in horror. “I really hope they don’t!”
“Well, I hope not, too, sweetie, but I have bad luck, and, you know, they’re fish. That’s what they do.”
“I really don’t like that line of thinking,” I muttered as I directed her attention back to the list I’d written out. “Keep the lid on. They like to jump. They eat one pinch of flakes a day.”
“Surely they need more than that, honey. Nobody can live on a pinch a day.”
“One pinch! Their stomachs are the size of their eyeballs and look how tiny they are.” I squinted against the glass and gestured for Nancy to do the same. “See? If you feed them too much, they get constipated, and then you have to give them shelled peas to clean them out, which can upset the water parameters—”
“How about I just give them peas instead of flakes? Cut out the in-between. Do they like zucchini, too? George makes a great casserole. It’s got some peas in it, too, I think.”
My head was starting to hurt. I picked up the list and held it in front of her face. “Stick to the list. Please. Their light is on a timer, so don’t worry about turning it on or off. And, I know how this sounds”—I closed my eyes—“but please don’t watch them poop. They get embarrassed, which can also lead to constipation. They’re basically just swimming around waiting for their digestive tracks to freeze.”
“Got it. No eye contact during pooping.” She nodded resolutely, then looked unsure. “What if they make eye contact with me first?”
“Look away!” I said, exasperated. “Treat them like they’re people. Nobody likes to stare into someone’s eyes while they relieve themselves.”
“If they’re people, they need to address the suicidal ideation that leads to jumping.”
God, she was right. “I can’t currently help them with that, since we have a language barrier, but I can look into it when I’m back from my trip.” At this point I wasn’t sure who was the weird one, me or Nancy. Still probably Nancy? “They like to be sung to, but you don’t need to worry about that; I’ll leave the radio on,” I said.
“Honey, I don’t think these little ones have ears.”
Hm. I’d have to google that later, too. “Maybe not, but they can feel the vibrations, and they like it.” I swore Hopper and his babies really did like my concerts. I was confident of that.
“Okay, I’ll make sure they get their lullabies,” Nancy said. “I’ll follow the list. But make sure you leave it here, or I’ll forget.” She inspired so much confidence. Then she turned to me, a serious look on her face, and patted the spot next to her on the sofa. Uh-oh. I sat down. “George and I just want to make sure you’re okay. You haven’t seemed as happy as we’d like to see you.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I’m okay. Sorry to worry you.”
She rubbed my back, and tears pricked my eyes. I was lucky to have a landlord who wanted to be like a mom to me. Even if she was likely to dump George’s famous casserole into my tank while dead-ass staring them in the eyes as they tried to relax enough to poop. “Thanks, Nancy. Now, I’m only going to be gone for three days, but make sure to call me if you have any questions or you’re worried about anything. I’m sure it’ll all go fine.”
She nodded. “They probably won’t all die. There’s about a hundred in there, right? I’m sure most of them will still be there when you get home,” she said, patting my hand.
Great. “Thanks again. I should go say goodbye to my dad.”
When I got to Aspen Skies, Dad and Margaret were in the garden, as usual, though the temperature was dropping. She’d wrapped a blanket around his legs, and they were sitting very close, sipping hot chocolate.
“Hey!” I called as I made my way over. I tightened my scarf againstthe chill. “I just wanted to come by and give you a hug before my work trip,” I said.
“Where are you going?” Margaret asked, smiling at me.
