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“Thanks, David,” Abi said, feeling lighter than she had all morning.
“It’s my job,” he said, then gestured to the double doors. “I have it on good authority that Elliot’s mother is serving pastrami sliders in there.”
“Is it weird I only like pastrami with cheese? I don’t know how people can eat it without something other than onions and pickles,” Abi said primly.
“I’m pretty sure there’s mustard, mustard and pastrami is entirely kosher,” David said laughing.
“Get out.”
TWELVE
Simcha invoked the phone tree. Abi’s phone had been ringing non-stop for four days straight. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. She should have known Simcha wouldn’t let her get away with hiding behind David. It just wasn’t her way. Simcha, when she wanted to, would absolutely go full scorched earth nuclear winter to make her point.
And since she couldn’t very well get her friends involved the same way over man drama, she was going to do the next best thing and make Abi’s day job miserable. At some point between Saturday and Sunday—most likely Sunday because Simcha was nothing if not efficient—she’d managed to get every single parent with a child in the preschool not just concerned, but full froth freakingoutthat Abi would consider using a Haggadah for their children that was sub-par.
Based on the voicemails and emails and gorilla grams she’d gotten so far, it seemed that Simcha was telling people Abi was using source material from 1923, so it was outdated and boring and way too over-the-heads of the average toddler, and what was she thinking?
It would be funny if it weren’t so infuriating.
And somewhere in all those voicemails and text messages, her vet called on Monday to let her know that Cream was ready to be picked up. Only she missed the call because of the absolute cascade of angry parents. So, they called again on Tuesday. She’d made a note in her planner, but then got sidetracked by the parents who found it perfectly reasonable to just show up looking to chat about this terrible, awful thing she was doing.
So, today the vet’s office called, texted,andemailed.
Apparently, guinea pigs took up so much space that they just couldn’t be ignored.
It was an unfair thing to even think, but Abi was in such a foul mood she couldn’t even pretend to be nice. She called the vet and promised she would pick up Cream before they closed. Then, as soon as she hung up, she remembered there was a Preschool Board meeting this afternoon that she had to attend. And she couldn’t ask Leah because she knew she didn’t have anyone to watch the shop. Her mom was in court, her dad was running a mediation session, Shoshana was filming, and David had stuff to do, so she was fucked.
She called Ilan.
He’d barely gotten in a hello before she was talking, apologizing for the inconvenience, explaining what was happening. Walking him through where the vet’s office was and what time they closed. Assuring him that she’d settle the bill before he even got there, all he had to do was pick up the little guy and take whatever paperwork they gave him about aftercare or medications or anything. She would make him dinner. She’dbehis dinner. By the time she ran out of words and thought to check if he was even still on the line or if the call had dropped she’d just about decided that if he agreed to do this one asinine thing, she would provide him blow jobs for life.
The only thing he’d done was ask if she minded his stopping by the preschool on the way to pick up her house key so he could leave Cream with his brother and sister so the little guy wouldn’t be completely traumatized.
Abi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“I’ve got a drop-in at the counter, do you have a few minutes?” Sarah, the Preschool’s receptionist was leaning against the doorway of Abi’s office, looking apologetic and out of patience.
Abi knew the feeling.
It had been like this all day.
And if Monday and Tuesday were any indication, the carpool line was going to be a nightmare.
“Send them back, I guess,” Abi said, mentally preparing her arguments and wanting to scream.
“Hey Abs,” Rachel Melfie said, travel mug in one hand, a takeout cup from Leah’s café in the other. “Do you mind if I shut the door?”
“Please, shut the door,” Abi said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. She tried to remind herself that it wasn’t Rachel she was angry with, that it wasn’t Rachel’s fault Simcha was a territorial snot, that Rachel probably didn’t even know what was going on, but she didn’t have the energy.
Also, she wasn’t entirely sure that was true.
Based on all the things Ilan said about his relationship with Rachel, and Simcha’s… Abi didn’t know,drama? Abi was inclined to think that Rachel was some kind of Cartoon Network supervillain mastermind.
“You look like you could use this,” Rachel said, placing the cardboard cup in front of Abi. Abi smiled tightly and opened her own insulated cup, popping the top off the large to-go cup and dumping the whole thing into her empty one. This would be her third twenty-four-ounce cup today. It wasn’t even ten-thirty yet.
Whatever, she deserved it, she told herself as she screwed the lid back on her cup. She met Rachel’s eyes and said nothing. Rachel had the good sense to look embarrassed. Abi wasn’t going to give an inch.
“I wanted to let you know that Simcha asked us to put the Haggadah business on the agenda for the board meeting this afternoon.”
