"What happened to the food mom brought for you?" She sits down on the couch, crossing one leg over the other, and starts to pick at her nails.
"I ate it all?” I shrug, wondering what kind of silly question that is.
Ellie looks up from her nails and gapes.
"What?"
"August, that could have lasted you two weeks, at least."
My hands continue to move around the pile until I find what I'm looking for. Dad said I had to look out for an invoice from one of the vendors. Why are we still taking checks like it's 1980? I have no idea. Why haven't we updated our systems? Venmo exists for a reason. I think that’s the first thing I’m going to change.
"August?" Ellie says.
"Mhm.”
"Are you listening to me?"
I stop what I'm doing and look at her. There's concern in her eyes, and her head is tilted to the side. I walk around the desk and sit down on the couch next to her.
"Have you been taking your medication?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"I wanted to come see how you’re doing with work, considering you haven’t been home."
"I'm handling it, E. It’s fine," I bite out without meaning to, then close my eyes and take a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm a little stressed, but it's nothing I can't handle. It's just a matter of getting everything organized."
I'm terrible at being organized. Ellie is a type A, and I'm type Z. I've always had challenges keeping things organizedand remembering where I put things. I set daily reminders on my phone for appointments, when to take my medication, when to pick up my medication, and even when my haircut is scheduled.
When I can't get my stress under control, that's when my ADHD gets worse. I've learned techniques in therapy on how to control said stress, along with noticing the warning signs when I start to become overwhelmed or overstimulated.
Of course, dealing with a parent who was diagnosed with cancer and then having to take over a business is triggering everything.
"You know you can always ask for help," Ellie murmurs.
I hold back a groan becauseI know.Everyone is a broken record at this point and I’m about to lose my shit.
“I'm not trying to be mean, but I know how much this place means to you and Dad, but if you ever feel like you're in over your head, it's okay toask.You have close friends who will help the minute you do."
"Okay, I'll ask for help if I need it."
"Good. Just don't ask me because I'm still learning myself with Honey Cakes."
“Yeah, yeah.” I stand up and stretch my arms, letting out a big yawn.
"Okay...well, if you want to come over for dinner tonight, Rowan is cooking baked ziti. Your favorite."
I narrow my eyes. "Are you trying to bribe me into leaving here?"
She shakes her head. "Not at all."
I exhale. "Alright, you've won me over. What time?"
"Six, don't be late." She points at me.
Our heads turn toward the office door when we hearthings getting knocked over. The sound of a mannequin hits the floor, and a small bark from Biscuit echoes.
Ellie looks at me, scrunching her nose before saying, "Sorry.”
