Discovering Mack

2| Two

Fridays are always my hardest day of the week. I get home in the early hours of the morning, grab a couple of hours sleep, then head to work at the accountants. If I'm lucky I get to finish up early, just so I can get home, clean up the house a little bit and go to work again. If I'm really lucky, I might get a quick nap. It's exhausting, but I push through because I like to eat and take hot showers.

Today was one of those lucky days my boss let me go early. I think it was so he could leave early too, but I'm not questioning it nor complaining.

Sitting on the old rickety tram below an open window, the only ounce of fresh air to break the stifling heat, I hold the card Scarlett gave me between my fingers as I think about our encounter last night. Not even five minutes of conversation and here I was faced with another choice in my life that could either be just what I need, or ruin everything. This wasn't my life, things like this don't happen to me. I play it safe, easy. Always the easy path.

The idea of taking a leap scares the crap out of me. I don't take leaps, I make safe, calculated decisions. Maybe that's my problem though, I don't take chances, I don't ever gamble on me. I never expect me to succeed. I don't ever expect me to be capable of more than... easy.

The card felt expensive, which is weird to say about a business card. But it fit with my first impression of Scarlett too, matte black with foiled red writing. It sure wasn't made on vistaprint from a standard template and stock card, like the accountants business cards were. Scarlett Richmond- Senior Marketing Executive. She hadn't looked old enough to be a senior within the company, but maybe she was really good at what she did.

What I couldn't understand was why me? Was the offer for real and what did she see in me in those few minutes behind the bar. She witnessed an interaction between Clive and I and ordered a drink. We exchanged a few sentences, which included her offering me a job opportunity.
Who even does that? How does she know I'm not on reprieve from the psych ward, or a single mother with seven dwarfs at home to feed.

She doesn't. Yet she still wants to take a chance on me?

Maybe fate was a real thing. Divine intervention. Maybe I'm walking around with a sign on my back saying 'help me, I'm a poor lost soul trying to find her way out of a rutt'. Maybe she just pitied me.

Yeah, that's probably it. Pity. For the poor girl behind the bar with the bags under her eyes.

Feeling the tram come to a stop, and hearing the sound of the door opening, I glance up realising it was my stop. I gathered my bag and quickly stood, filing out onto the road behind some school students, grateful for the gush of fresh air. I safely tucked Scarlett's card into the back of my phone cover, still undecided on what to do, if anything at all.

The moment I pushed open the front door my senses filled with the strong, very distinct smell of pot. Which in the heat of this house on a hot summer afternoon means it lingers in the air, if I'm in here too long, I might even start to feel the effects.

I open up the windows and doors, hoping the breeze will help, thankful my family are not the type to just drop in.

"Hello, I'm home," I call out when there's been no movement despite the noise of me arrive. I try to keep the frustration out of my voice. The last thing I need is another argument, despite the fact my blood is already boiling and by this point I'm itching to tell him just how I feel.

No reply.

I look around the lounge and start picking up the empty bags of chips left on the coffee table along with three empty glasses. Why he can't just refill a glass instead of getting a new one, I'll never understand! In the kitchen there are more dishes again. Did his mother teach him nothing?