When Gale stops us near the library, I stand up and give her a quick hug. “See you when the sun comes up.”
“I’ll be here, honey.” She pats my arm and gives me a smile. “Be careful.”
“I always am,” I tell her, grabbing the railing and stepping off the bus. The other passengers follow me off, and I give Gale a wave before she pulls away from the curb, on her way to the next stop a few streets over.
The walk to the library isn’t long. It’s late enough for the sidewalks to be busy, and I quickly disappear into the crowd, just like I like it. With my oversized coveralls and my big glasses, it’s like I don’t exist. Add in my short height and the way I keep my head ducked down, and I’m damn near invisible. Weaving my way through the crowd of people who are off to have way more fun than me, I make it to the stairs of the library and stop to watch a group of laughing women. They pass me without a second glance, way too focused on the club across the street. Inferno is always packed, and tonight is no exception. The large, black building already has a line outside, and by the looks of it, it’s filled with women who look just like the group that passed me—beautiful and with enough fabric to sort of count as a dress…if you squint and the lighting is dim.
I grab a piece of gum from my bag and watch them cross the street and make their way to the end of the line. I try not to be jealous, but I am. The walls I’ve put around myself are for my own good, but that doesn’t mean I always like it. When I was little, the walls were to make sure no one ever saw the bruises or the fact that I was all skin and bones since I was forced to skip so many meals. The last thing I needed or wanted was for child protective services to come and take me away, possibly putting me into a home that was even worse than the hell I already knew. As I got older, I didn’t bother to tear the walls down. It’s not like I could invite girlfriends over to the house for a sleepover. What would they think when my dad showed up drunk and started throwing things around? Dating was also out of the question. My dad’s always been paranoid that I’m going to meet someone and leave him all alone. I’ve seen how mean my dad can be, how violent, and I never wanted to risk him hurting someone.
The walls are so deeply embedded now, and I’m scared they won’t ever come down. At this point, I’m not even sure how to go about dismantling them. My only friends are Gale, the sweet bus driver, and Jerry, the man I work nights with. Both are in their sixties, the grandparents I never had.
Blowing a bubble, I turn and walk up the steps to the massive public library that looms in front of me. It’s one of the coolest places in our city, way more fun than the club across the street, at least that’s what I tell myself. When I pass the large, bronze lion out front, I pet his nose, like I do every night, and then give his round ass a smack before grabbing my employee keycard and entering through the side door.
The lights are dim and my feet echo through the hall, making it seem even bigger than it already is. Making a quick stop, I drop off my bag in my locker and grab my phone and earbuds. I’m scrolling through my audiobooks when Jerry walks in.
“Hey, kiddo. How’s life treating you on this fine night?”
I laugh and look over at his smiling face. He’s the happiest person I’ve ever met. Grabbing his coveralls, he slips them on over his jeans and T-shirt, zipping them up as he waits for me to answer.
“I’m good, Jerry. How about you?”
“Stuffed, darlin’,” he says, patting his stomach. I laugh because as much as he talks about needing to lose weight, it never stops him from getting seconds on all the pies his wife loves to make. I can’t say I blame him. I’ve tasted her pies. They’re fucking incredible.
“What’d Betty make tonight?” I ask with a smile on my face.
His eyes glaze over when he tells me about the fried chicken and okra with mashed potatoes and green beans smothered in bacon grease and homemade cherry pie for dessert. I feel my arteries start to clog just from the description, but my mouth also waters. They’re both originally from Georgia, and those Southern roots come out in her meals.
He gives me a wink. “It’s possible there’s a piece of pie waiting for you in the employee fridge.”
“Seriously?” When he laughs again, I say, “Thanks, Jerry, and be sure to tell Betty thanks for me.”
“Will do, kiddo.” He walks over to grab the large mop bucket and begins filling it and adding in cleaner. “Which floor are you starting on tonight?”
“I’ll take the second, if you don’t mind.”
“You just like to work in fiction so you can sneak peeks at all the books,” he teases me with a laugh. “You’re the only person I’ve ever met who likes to look at books while also listening to one.”
“I do still get all my cleaning done,” I remind him with a laugh.
He smiles and gives me a wave goodbye as he pushes the mop bucket out onto the main floor. We’ll meet up again over the course of the night, but for the most part, it’s a very solitary job. Once I’ve got my audiobook going, I fill up my own bucket and load up a cart with everything I’ll need before pushing it all to the elevators near the main entrance. While I wait for the doors to open, I chance a quick look outside, noticing that Inferno looks even more packed than when I first got here. It’ll stay that way until they close. The owners must make a killing on that place.
The elevator dings, pulling me back to my reality, which is not a night of drinking and dancing and meeting hot guys. My night will be spent cleaning dirty floors and bathrooms and dusting books that not too many people even bother to check out anymore, and there will most definitely not be any hot guys anywhere near me, which I guess is sadly for the best.
At least I have a slice of homemade cherry pie thanks to Betty. That shouldn’t make me so happy, and the fact that it does might be the most depressing realization I’ve ever come to about myself. Ignoring the depressing thoughts and visions of me being fifty and still pushing this goddamn mop bucket around, I lose myself in my audiobook instead and get to work. The night passes quickly. I eat my PB&J around three in the morning with a book in hand and then savor the slice of cherry pie before getting back to work. By the time the sun starts to rise, I’m exhausted and more than ready to collapse into my bed and sleep the day away.
Putting away all my supplies, I tell Jerry goodbye and make my way outside. The sky is just starting to lighten up, and it feels unnaturally quiet. It’s my favorite part of the day. Maybe it’s because I always experience it when my shift ends and another night of cleaning is over. At least then I can forget about work for a little while.
I give the lion his usual ass pat and nose rub and jog down the steps. The sidewalk is empty as I make my way to the bus stop. Gale is right on time, and as soon as she opens the door, I stagger in and take my usual seat behind her.
“Tired, honey?”
“Yeah. I bet you are too, though.”
She laughs and shuts the doors, pulling away from the curb and back in the direction she just came from. “I’ve got it easy. I get to sit on my butt all night.”
“It’s still a hard job,” I tell her. “I don’t know how you handle the stress of driving this big bus through downtown.”
“People know better than to get in my way,” she says with a laugh. “If they hit me, they know it’s not my bus that’s going to be taking the brunt of the damage.”
