What had just happened?
I was at Tate’s house to apologize, but instead, it felt like I had walked into a parallel universe. Tate was angry, seriously angry. He scared me. He looked bigger, taller, meaner than I ever thought someone like him could look. I was trying to process his words and actions, and the attitude. Then everything got worse.
Allan came down the driveway like a bat out of hell, side-swiped my car, and kept going.
“My car!”
Completely poleaxed, I stood there like some idiot as everything unfolded around me. Tate growled something and bolted past me. I barely had time to comprehend what he was doing. I was still staring at my car.
It was old, it had a few dings and dents. The paint had oxidized, and the plastic parts were a slightly different color. The light covers were dull. It was an ugly car, but I had never been in an accident, never had the long scratch marks of another car’s paint job along the side, or a broken side mirror.
Now, the mirror hung on by sheer willpower.
Tate drove past in a red blur, leaving me on his front porch, his front door still a bit open. Without thinking, I went inside. I was almost back to the kitchen before I realized what I was doing. I didn’t belong, and I probably wasn’t welcome anymore.
Why had Tate told me to go home and lock the door?
I looked around at his stuff. Sure, the house was old, and some of the furniture was too. Original, probably, but only the wood pieces. The leather couch and overstuffed upholstered side chair were new. The long table used as a TV stand looked like one of those old-fashioned buffet credenzas. But the monstrously large TV on top, definitely new, definitely expensive.
I pushed into the kitchen. The appliances in here were maybe twenty years old. Not new, but they worked. I opened the drawer with the silverware. Old, real silver, not stainless or the cheap, pressed stuff.
Quality old silverware didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t some identifier that Tate had money. Ruby and I had really good flatware because it’s what we got from Mom, and we were not even close to middle-class, forget about rich.
But the furniture in the living room, the electronics, Tate’s truck, those all indicated that he did have money. The jerk.
Knowing I shouldn’t have been in his house, I left, closing the door behind me. Only to have to face down my poor, damaged car. Reality hit me at that point. I couldn’t go any farther. I sat on the steps to the porch, more like collapsed, and cried.
Tate had scared me. Told me to go away. I covered my face and cried. I should never have come here, never should have gone inside and been nosy. Everything about Tate was a mistake.
I pulled myself up. I had to go home and make sure Ruby was safe. Tate’s words were clear enough, but I got hung up on the why.
“My car,” I whined through my tears as I tried to put the side mirror back upright. It stayed put, balanced for a minute, before toppling and hanging in place. I needed some tape.
My gut clenched. I was now that poor woman with her car taped together. Well, if that’s what I was, so be it. I stopped at the Tire Guy on my way home to ask if he had some tape or knew what kind I should get.
“What happened?” the guy who ran the place asked when he saw me pull up.
He was my go-to car guy, always so nice. I felt bad because I didn’t know his name, and yet I depended on him.
“I got side-swiped.”
“You get the fella’s insurance information?”
I shook my head. “He didn’t stop.”
“You get his license plate? That’s a hit and run,” he pointed out.
“No, but I might know where he lives.”
“If you need me to go with you, he needs to pay to get this fixed.”
It hadn’t even occurred to me that I should make Allan get my car fixed. Of course that’s what normal people did. And if he didn’t pay for it, his insurance would. “Thank you. I’ll do that. I thought maybe it could be taped together. But I didn’t know what kind of tape I should get. I was hoping you could tell me?”
“I’ve got you,” he said and headed back into his shop. He wrapped a good amount of silver duct tape around the mirror, securing it in place.
I opened my mouth to ask how much, and he cut me off. “Don’t even think I’m gonna charge you for some tape, missy. You’re doing your best to keep this car safe. A little tape is the least I can do for a customer.”
“Thank you.” I sniffled before throwing my arms around him and hugging him.
“It’ll be okay, little girl, it’ll be okay.” He patted my back before I let him go and wiped my face.
“Sorry, sorry,” I said right as I jumped in my car and left. And the more I thought about how some stranger fixed my car and gave me advice, I started bawling. It should have been my dad. But I didn’t have a dad. And once upon a time, I thought of Mac as a father figure, but he went and ruined that for me.
Driving and crying are not the best combination. And I had been crying a lot. When I got home, Ruby was safe and sound, watching TV. I mumbled something about taking a shower and went straight into the bathroom, hoping she hadn’t noticed I’d been crying.
Even as water ran over me, I couldn’t stop the sobs. I swallowed too much water, soap, and snot, and gagged it up. Great, I was crying so hard, I was making myself throw up.
“I feel like shit,” I said when I got out.
“Kenzie, language,” Ruby chastised me. Fair enough. I didn’t let her curse. I shouldn’t curse, either.
I made instant ramen and added some chopped-up lunch meat. It was far from fancy, but it was all I felt like I could handle. After dinner, I went to bed. I didn’t care that I had a dress to hem for the bridal shop. I wasn’t feeling good enough to be productive. Besides, I didn’t think tearstains on a dress would be acceptable.
In the morning, I felt worse. My eyes were swollen from all the crying, and my throat hurt. I really didn’t want to be a functional adult. I wanted to stay in bed and feel sorry for myself. I had sick time I could use.
I staggered out to the living room to find my purse. Ruby sat at the kitchen table eating cereal. “You don’t so good,” she said.
“I don’t feel so good. I’m going to call in sick.”
“Wow, you don’t feel good. You never call in.”
She was right, I didn’t. I didn’t want to risk my job. I pulled out the phone and turned it on. I checked the minutes out of habit. Crap. I hadn’t had time to buy new minutes since I checked the phone yesterday, and I had only five then. I was down to four.
Four minutes. I could do what I did yesterday, call, tell them what was happening, and hang up.
I waited for someone to pick up so I could talk as fast as possible.
“This is Kenzie I’m sick, I’m not—”
“You haven’t arranged to take today off. You’re coming in,” Will barked.
“I’m sick, and I only have a few minutes before my phone cuts off. I’m not coming in.”
“If you want this job to be here the next time you feel like working, you had—”
The phone died. I was out of minutes.
I made my way back to my room and got ready for work. It was going to be another long, tiring day. At least I had gas in the car.
Will wanted to see me as soon as I walked in the door.
“You were an hour late yesterday, and you tried to call out today. Do you even want to work here?”
The truth was no, I did not. But circumstances beyond my control had happened. He needed to understand.
“And then you hung up on me while I was talking to you,” he continued.
I hated him and his power over me.
“I ran out of minutes on my phone. I didn’t hang up. I don’t feel good, and I have sick time.”
“You need to make arrangements for that,” Will said.
“That makes no sense. I didn’t know I was going to wake up feeling like crap. Come on, Will,” I whined. I was tired, I didn’t want to be there, so yes, I whined.
“Get on the floor and do your job. I only called you back here to let you know I’ve put you on probation. You need to fix your attitude, get to work on time, and hope the customers stop complaining about you.”
“Complaints from Mac shouldn’t count.”
“With an attitude like that, Kenzie, you might want to start looking for another job.”
I wanted to rail against everything he stood for. He was so bad it was like he actively tried to suck as a manager.
I had to run morning breaks. “Are you ready for a break?” I checked with Latisha at the drive-thru window.
The morning rush had finished, so there wasn’t too much for me to do. I was supposed to multitask and help with drink orders when the drive-thru got slow, but I took the time to hide from Will and the rest of the world. I cycled through the other registers and was out on the floor wiping down booths when Mac showed up.
My entire body reacted. The hairs on my arms and back of my neck stood on end. I felt the pulse in my neck speed up. A shiver danced down my spine. And I wanted to throw up. I felt trapped.
“Where is your boyfriend today, Kenzie?” he asked.
Instead of denying Tate was my boyfriend, because I had doubts we were even friends anymore, I simply shrugged and admitted I didn’t know.
Mac left me alone for a few minutes and ordered something. He sat in the booth next to where I was cleaning. I wanted him to go away.
“Kenzie, get me a refill, will ya, darling?”
I cringed. I hated it when he called me that. I opened my mouth to tell him no, for one millionth time. But Will said I had to deal with him. And I was going to have to clean up the mess, anyway…
I took his cup, filled it and came back.
“Here you go,” I said as I poured it over his lap. I tossed the empty cup at his face. “This is not that kind of restaurant. Don’t like it? Well, tough.”
