They’re dated, but not antique. I’d struggle to even call them vintage. Black wrought iron frames with glass tops and one drawer. They’re not ugly, but they’re certainly not pretty.
“How much?”
“Fifteen each.”
“Would you take ten?”
She agrees without hesitation, and suddenly I’m confronted with the logistics of my impulses.
“We don’t deliver,” she says, though not unkindly, as she walks towards the register. “I can help you get them to your car, but that’s it.”
I backtrack to the armchair and pick up my package. “I won’t need help, I just… I don’t have a car.”
“You walked to buy furniture?”
“I was picking up a package,” I tell her, placing the box down on the counter. “This was an unexpected detour.”
“Can you pay in cash?”
“Ah, yeah…” I slide open the back of my phone case and take out the hundred dollar bill Tek gave me on my first day. “Can you hold them for me?”
“There’s no refunds, but I’m not a storage center either. If you’re not here by the end of the week I’ll put them back up for sale.”
I agree to her terms, and back out of the store where the day doesn't feel so cold anymore.
I’ll order a pair of boots.
I’ll grab a bunch of winter socks and a couple pairs of sweats from Watersons’.
I’ll buy a cooler and stock it with milk, cheese, and meat.
I’ll go out on my own more. I’ll take the bus to the surrounding towns and I’ll go to the bar after work because it’s not pathetic to do things on your own.
Iwillmake a good home here, and that starts right now when I ask my boss if I can borrow his van to—
With my hand on the door of Teken Ink, I’m frozen as I look inside. Petite and brunette, a woman stands pressed up againstTek’s chest with her arms draped around his neck as she gazes up into his eyes.
My stomach sinks, but what right do I have to say anything about it? I gave him an in, I literally laid myself out on a platter, and he didn't take a single bite.
Pushing on through, the sound of the bell has both their heads turning towards me. The woman’s short haircut and thick bangs swing around her face before it lights up with a beautiful smile. Her hands fall away from Tek and she steps towards me like she knows exactly who I am. But before she can say a word, another voice from off to the side says, “Fuck off. That’s Carey, isn’t it?”
“You know it is.” The woman tells him, and the gentleness of her voice disarms me.
I look at Tek who's walking towards the break room. “They’re friends of your brothers,” he says, before stepping inside.
“As much as he’ll allow himself to have friends.” The man beside me speaks again, this time extending his hand to me. He’s tall like Eden, but much leaner. His skin is quite naturally tanned, and the shorter layers of his scruffy haircut sit against some impossible cheek bones. “Austin.”
“Carey,” I reply, confirming my identity.
“That’s—”
“I’m Anaise,” the woman cuts him off to introduce herself. “The four of us all went to high school together.”
I humbly scratch the back of my head. Not only is this woman possibly the most perfect example of ethereal feminine presence, but also, “I don’t think Eden's ever told me about you.”
She lets out a short laugh; “That sounds about right,” and moves even closer. Raising her hand, she reaches for my cheek. Her fingers are soft as she cups my face, and a sense of calm washes over me. “You look so much like him, but… completely different at the same time.”
“Is that meant to be a compliment?”
