After losing her job and her girlfriend, it's time for Annie Abraham to admit defeat and move back in with her parents. She has hardly been back to her tiny Montana hometown since the unforgettable summer before her senior year of college, when she...
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Apparently Wednesday afternoon is the hot time for everyone in Deer Pines to do their book-related Christmas shopping. The store is as busy as it ever gets, new releases and recommended books flying off the tables so fast that Jessica and I are both on the register, no time for inventory or stock replenishment with the rate that people are lining up to pay.
I shouldn't complain. This place is my livelihood, and if it doesn't make enough money, my salary is the first thing to go. Days like this are what keep the heating on and food on the table but it's exhausting, the constant flow of people making conversation about the weather (yes, it's snowing again, what a surprise in a town where it snows for most of winter) and about how close Christmas is (yes I know it's less than three weeks away, I own a calendar and it's the same date every year).
I was hoping today would be quiet and easy and I'd get home in a good mood ready to cook dinner for Annie tonight, but my stress level is only rising as the day wears on. It doesn't help that Ava woke me up ninety minutes earlier than usual and she was grouchy all morning, and there was traffic on the way to school so the whole way Hannah was stressing about being late.
I guess at least the busyness is a good distraction. There's no space to overthink tonight's date when I'm so rushed off my feet that I haven't had a single sip of the coffee Jessica made me over an hour ago, stone cold by now because unlike Ruth, neither of us like the heating to be hot enough to boil water.
"It's like a fucking tour bus has rolled into town," Jessica says when there's a brief respite, a few customers milling about the store but nobody at the register.
"Maybe we got featured in a list I'm not aware of," I say, pushing my hair off my face with a sigh. I almost always wear it down but I couldn't find any bobby pins this morning and it's annoying me today.
"Everyone's finally realized that books make the best Christmas presents." Jessica takes a sip of her coffee and pulls a face. She takes both our mugs to the staffroom and I hear a splash as she tips our cold drinks away and switches on the machine to brew a fresh pot.
The stragglers leave. We have the place to ourselves. I let out a sigh of relief and lean my elbows on the counter to rest my weary back. It's been out of alignment ever since I had Otto and spent the next four years with him on my hip, only to have Hannah the moment he finally grew out of being held. Now I'm back to life with a toddler in my arms and my spine's been playing up for the last year.
My mom tells me to stop pandering to my kids, that if I stop picking Ava up then she will learn to stop expecting it, and she won't spend so much time on my hip, but I like that she wants to be held and I don't want my kids to see me the way I see my mom. Cold and standoffish, someone who probably shouldn't have had children.
With a fresh coffee in each hand, Jessica comes out and drops onto one of the sofas. I join her and relish in the heat of the mug in my hand, the first scorching sip of a perfectly sweet, perfectly creamy coffee. I close my eyes and rest an elbow on the arm of the sofa, my temple in my palm. I could've done with at least two hours more sleep before a shift like this.
