I stuck my tongue out at him. "My life is kind of a shitshow right now," I said as he opened the car door for me.
"Oh yeah? Why's that?"
"My boss is a nutcase."
"Really? Because I thought he just bought you lunch and let you eat all of his food."
I smiled and leaned against the window. "That fish was really good."
* * *
When we arrived backto the office, I transcribed my notes and wrote an email to the photographer. For the first time since Anke had disappeared, I felt actually relaxed and happy. Henry wasn't even running around. He sat quietly on the rug in my office and colored.
Don't get me wrong, Mace was still a weirdo who didn't like dessert and who was way too uptight, but I had to admit he was actually sort of fun to be around. It had been nice to spend the day with him. The tension in the office even felt like it had dissipated.
However, the knot in my shoulder set back in as soon as I returned to my tiny house. It took me three tries to start the old Ford truck, and I swear the house looked like it had shifted so much it could cameo in a Dr. Seuss movie.
As I drove back to Ida's General Store's parking lot, I wondered what I was going to do about Anke. I still hadn't responded to her text. I had almost given up on her paying me back the money like she had promised. To hear from her now, almost six months after the fact, I suspected it wasn't for anything that would benefit me.
Still, if she did have my money, it would be a huge help for me. PharmaTech wasn't issuing my first paycheck for another ten days, and I was down to my last few hundred dollars on my credit card.
I parked the tiny house at the far end of the small parking lot. Taking my leftovers, I had to shove my shoulder against the tiny house door to open it. It was muggy and smelly inside. I opened a window, called Marnie, and slumped on the couch.
"How's the job?" she asked when she answered.
"Slightly better."
"Good because apparently Mace wanted to fire you," my friend said.
I sighed and rifled through the takeout bag. Pulling out the container of pasta, I cursed again that I didn't have a microwave. Fine. I would eat it cold. "It was a rocky start."
"You burned down the office."
"Just a kitchen."
"Never change, Josie!" my friend said, laughing.
"Hey, so," I said around the pasta. "A weird thing happened—I heard from Anke."
"That seems suspicious," Marnie said. "I'm going to the FBI about her."
"The FBI!" I half-choked on the pasta. Coughing, I asked, "How is that going to help?"
Someone banged on the door.
"Sorry, let me call you back."
"This is the police," announced an authoritative female voice.
Hands shaking, I wrenched open the door and stepped outside.
"Ma'am." It was the same officer who had given me a ticket earlier in the week. "You can't park a tiny house on this property."
Ida came running out of the general store. "Susie, stop harassing my customers!"
"Ida," Susie said in exasperation. "It's a code violation. Tiny houses can only be parked on residential properties, not commercial, and certainly not in view of the street."
"Police brutality!" Ida announced loudly. "I'm going to be protesting in front of your office, young lady. Why, in my day—"
