I wrote four, but deleted them without sending.
I really wanted to call him.
But what would I say?
I couldn’t stop thinking about what Muriel and Patty said, but I also couldn’t shake the feeling that Rebel wouldn’t forgive me for leaving.
Most of all, though, I couldn’t stop missing Alex.
I decided to have an impromptu activity today to remind myself why I love my job and this town so much.
I sat at my computer for two hours putting together a pre-game party in the parking lot of the arena. Everyone can come and learn the lyrics to the songs the team might sing and dance to on Friday, along with basic dance steps and arm movementsthey can do in the stands. I’m also going to have a sneak peek at merchandise, and they can sample both the alcoholic and non-alcoholic versions of the Swamp Water, the Rougarou Bites, a sweet snack mix, and the savory snack mix we’re calling Rascal Kibble.
It will get everyone ready for the fun on Friday. And it will take my mind off of…everything else.
I finally head into Perks and Rec for much-needed food and caffeine.
“’Morning, Nora!”
“Hi, Nora!”
“Good to see you, Nora!”
“Good morning, everyone,” I return with a smile.
At least, I try to smile.
I move behind the counter to start making a latte. Bruce emerges through the swinging doors, laden with plates.
He simply asks, “Yogurt or pancakes?” Which is his way of asking how bad I’m feeling this morning.
“Pancakes. Bacon. No potatoes.” In other words, pretty bad, but not quite stuffed French toast bad.
He doesn’t seem surprised bythat.
I’m hoping Andi and Everly will be in soon, but I’m on my own at the counter for now. I stupidly start scrolling through social media, checking the hockey accounts I follow. It’s work, I tell myself, but I’m lying. I’m searching for Alex’s name.
And it’s there.
Already.
They’re reporting on his return to Portland, praising Declan's smart move, and the replies indicate the fans are excited.
I’m glad.
For him.
For me…
I start to type inParks and Recreation department Portland.
The door opens, and I look over out of habit. Then I straighten when I realize who just walked in.
Astrid Olsen is crossing the shop toward me.
Have I ever seen Astrid in Perks and Rec? Maybe. But not regularly.
“Mornin’, Astrid,” Bruce greets as he brings out more plates from the kitchen and steps past the counter.
