Oh God, please let this be good news.
“I’m great, thanks. I was just calling to thank you for coming to chat with us.”
My heart sinks. I stare at the collection of framed photos hung on Mischa’s wall.
“I really enjoyed meeting you,” Melanie goes on. “I found you to be very kind and approachable, not to mention intelligent.”
“Uh… thank you.”Where exactly is she going with this?
“You’re obviously very qualified for the position, and I think you’d be perfect for the job,” she finally says. “If you’re still interested, that is. We’d love to welcome you to the team.”
My chest swells proudly. “Of course, I’m still interested. I’d love to join your team.”
“Fantastic. It’s settled then. Could you come in tomorrow, just to go over a few things before you officially start.”
“Of course. Name the time, and I’ll be there.”
We settle on a meeting time, all the while, my heart is beating frantically, refusing to behave. When I finally end the call, I practically bounce back to Mischa’s living room. “I got it!”
“The job?” Mischa asks.
“Yes!”
They all rise in unison to give me congratulatory hugs.
“It’s great and all, but I’m kind of sad, though,” Mischa confesses. “We’ll miss you.”
“Yeah, we will,” Gretchen agrees. “Who am I going to bake with?”
“Don’t look at me,” Claudia chimes in.
We all laugh and reach for our drinks. It’s a bittersweet moment. Yes, I’m excited about this new job, but I will definitely miss this.
* * *
Saturday mornings were alwaysmy favorite day of the week. I think that’s the case for most kids. I used to lounge on our blue sofa and stare at the television like a zombie, my hand usually in a box of Lucky Charms. I loved eating all the marshmallows, just to piss my brothers off. Digging for the last one was some kind of game. One memory in particular has always stuck with me.
As was my habit, I’d eaten all the tasty bits. When I was finally convinced I’d gotten them all, I put the box back into the cupboard.
“What are you smiling at?” Nick asked, rubbing his eyes. He had gotten up late that morning, as usual. My brothers were so lazy, typically sleeping in until ten or so.
“Nothing.” I giggled.
Nick shuffled to the kitchen. He poured himself a bowl of cereal.
“Abby,” he scoffed. “You ate all the marshmallows again.” He poured the milk and then hurled himself at me. I tried to get away, but I couldn’t quite get out in time, and he poured the bowl of cereal right over my head. I stood there in shock, head dripping, cereal bits stuck all over my hair.
I reached for my head, and pulled out the cereal bits from my hair. “Asshole!” Where was my dad when I needed him?
“You’re gonna have to clean that up, loser.”
A stupid grin was plastered across his face. “I don’t care. It was worth it.”
I thought he should be more mature than me. After all, he was three years older. At fourteen, I was still allowed to be immature. I was livid. I hurried outside to find Dad. He was having a good day, meaning a sober day. It was beautiful out, and when it was sunny, he’d usually have good days. I prayed every day for sun.
I worked to get the cereal out of my hair as I headed toward our front yard. I figured my dad would be in front of the house, working on his garden. Inside, our trailer was a total mess, but outside, it was quite a sight to behold. It was his pride, a kind of unwritten competition in the park. It was known that the Coopers had the nicest yard in the park. But there were also the Wards on Road #1 who were giving my dad a run for his money. He had to stay on top. He had recently painted the flower bed rocks in alternating browns and beiges. The previous month, he’d also added a scarecrow in his fruit and vegetable garden. That move put him over the top and he was determined to stay there.
“The garden’s looking awesome, Dad.”
