The Space Between Us Page 20

  I’d pay him back.

  Unfortunately, not everyone was in the same great mood as me. I was the first one to the Mocha and used my key to unlock the door, but within twenty minutes both Darek and Joy had shown up. Darek was silent, but that was normal for him this early. He didn’t usually perk up until about forty minutes after opening.

  Joy was characteristically sullen. I hadn’t even known she was scheduled to work that morning, which wasn’t such a big deal. She often came in to perform unscheduled inspections. Still, I thought I was being funny when I said, “You know, Joy, there’s this new thing called a life outside of work. I hear they’re on sale this week. Maybe you should pick one up.”

  Turns out I wasn’t as funny as I thought.

  Joy had been rearranging a tray of carrot cupcakes in the case. She stood to face me. “Maybe you should mind your own damn business, Tesla.”

  The bubble of my good mood got pricked, but didn’t quite explode. “Sorry.”

  “You know something? Not everyone is content to just flit around making nothing of themselves. For some people, work’s important. Some people take their responsibilities seriously. Some people—”

  “Some people need to take a chill pill,” Darek said from out in the shop, where he’d been taking the chairs off the tables in prep for opening.

  Joy looked across the counter at him. “What did you just say?”

  He shrugged, apparently ballsy enough to shoot an undertone insult her way, but not willing to bring the fight to her face. Joy frowned and turned her attention back to me. I didn’t want to fight, either.

  “I said I was sorry, Joy. I was teasing you.”

  “Well,” she said stiffly, “don’t tease.”

  “Right.” Nodding, I stepped back to let her pass me.

  Darek and I shared a look across the counter after she’d gone into the back room. He made a whirling motion with one finger at his temple, but I didn’t laugh. I didn’t think Joy was crazy, just supremely unhappy, and on a day like today, when I was feeling so good myself, that just didn’t seem right.

  I followed her into the back room, where she had a minuscule office she’d carved out of a former coat closet. It wasn’t even large enough to hold her whole desk, which she’d put in sideways, leaving space for the mini fridge where we kept our personal lunches and snacks. When she was sitting at her desk, her chair was pushed back against the wall, leaving just enough space for her to squeeze into the seat. Nobody sat in Joy’s chair but Joy.

  “Hey,” I said quietly.

  She looked up from whatever accounting she was doing on the computer. “What?”

  “I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry about teasing you. I think it’s great that you care so much about your job. I mean, it’s good to love what you do.”

  She gave me a blank look that slowly oozed into derision. “Is that what you really think?”

  “I…uh…”

  “Really?” She’d have shoved her chair back if there’d been room, but as it was she put her hands on the edge of the desk and pushed at it. “You think I love this fucking job?”

  In all the time I’d worked at Morningstar Mocha, I’d seen Joy lose her shit almost on a daily basis. Until this moment, though, I’d never heard her curse with anything stronger than a mild “hell” or “damn.” I’d have been less surprised if a toad had dropped from her mouth.

  “Guess what, Tesla,” she continued. “I don’t. In fact, you were right. I’m here all the damn time because I don’t have anything else. I have this job. That’s it. Because at least while I’m here at work, I don’t have to be anywhere else thinking about everything I want but don’t have and won’t ever have.”

  We weren’t anything like friends. If you’d asked me to make a list of all the people in the world I’d want to spend my time with, Joy wouldn’t have been on it. Honestly, I knew I wasn’t the only person who felt that way, either, so it was no surprise to me she didn’t have much beyond work.

  “I’m sorry,” was all I could say.

  “You’re not. You have no idea. You come in here every day with that big grin on your face, like the world’s just handed you a big old gift-wrapped box of chocolates and a credit card without a limit. And people love you. They all wait in line, longer than they have to, for you to help them. They ask you how you are, they flirt with you.” Joy’s voice ground to a halt.

  “I’m just nice to them, that’s all. Believe me, Joy, I don’t love this job every day. Most days I like it, and on the days I don’t, I just try to act like I do until…well, until I do again.” I shrugged. “It’s no great secret philosophy or anything.”

  She looked bleak, her cheeks and even her mouth paler than usual. Her throat convulsed as she swallowed. “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid. You think I don’t know all of that?”

  I didn’t know what to say. She didn’t seem to want comfort or advice or even commiseration. In typical Joy fashion, it seemed she just wanted a fight. “If you know it, why don’t you do it then? People don’t like talking to you because you’re terse, and you grunt.”

  Her eyes went wide. “What?”

  “You heard me,” I said. “And you know it’s true. I’m sorry, Joy, but you act sort of like a raging bitch most of the time.”

  She blinked rapidly and sat back in her chair so hard it knocked against the wall. “Get out of here.”

  I held up my hands. “I came in here to apologize for teasing you, but the fact is, you don’t want me to say I’m sorry. You want me to grovel or something, which I won’t do. You want to be angry with me for whatever reason. Maybe it’s because you’re jealous—”

  “Jealous! Why should I be jealous of you, Tesla? Because you’re funny and cute and people adore you? Because you don’t seem to have a care in the world? Is that why I should be jealous?” She spit the words as if she wished she could shoot me with each one.

  “Hell if I know.” I didn’t want to let her rile me up, but my voice rose, anyway. “I like this job, okay? I like my life. No, as a matter of fact, right now I love my life! And I’m not going to pretend I don’t just so you don’t have to feel like a sorry, sad-sack twat about your own!”

  She gasped. I choked myself off before I could say more, already ashamed at what I’d said…but sort of glad, too. She’d pushed me into it.

  “And for your information,” I added in a softer voice, “my life hasn’t been all sparkles shooting out a unicorn’s ass. I just try to make the best of things, and they usually turn out okay. Maybe you should try that once in a while.”

  “Get. Out.” She probably wished for a door to slam in my face, but had taken the closet door from its hinges in order to put her desk in there. She twisted in her chair to block the sight of me, and put her hands on the keyboard again, though she didn’t type. Her shoulders heaved.

  I thought about saying I was sorry again. I’d have meant it. I didn’t like saying mean things, even when the other person deserved it, and it seemed over the past few months I’d had to do more than my share of uncomfortable truth-telling. I was sorry I’d been mean, but I wasn’t sorry that anything I’d said was true. I got out.

  In the meantime, Darek had opened the shop for the first anxious customers. Those who’d be staying awhile had marked their territories with laptops, newspapers and mugs. The ones taking away waited semipatiently in a line that stretched all the way to the front door. I tied on my apron and got to work.

  I thought for sure Joy would come out to supervise and find fault with what we were doing, but she kept to herself for most of the morning. It was almost like she wasn’t there, and Darek and I fell into our usual routine of joking around and sharing the duties of taking and making orders and cleaning up the tables.

  “Morning, Dr. McFancypants.” I gestured at Eric’s plate, empty but for some crumbs. “Want me to take that for you?”

  He looked up from the yellow legal notepad on which he’d been so seriously scribbling. “Hey, Tesla. Sure.�
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  I took the plate and the crumpled napkin and made my best Joker impression. “Why so serious?”

  He laughed and looked a little embarrassed. “Oh. I’m working on a query letter. Sort of.”

  “Oh!” We had so many writers who hung out in the Mocha that I knew all about query letters. Carlos had cursed them, and synopses, too. “Are you writing a book or something?”

  He laughed. “No. I guess it’s more like an application.”

  “New job?”

  “No. Something else.” His brow furrowed as he tapped his pen against the lined paper. He had a box of linen stationery on the table next to him, along with a slim fountain pen still in the gift box. He touched them both briefly before looking up at me. “Rough drafts have to come first, you know?”

  “That’s what my English teachers always said. Good luck with it. Glad you’re not leaving us,” I told him with a wink.

  He returned it with a grin. “Yeah, like you’d have any trouble finding another butt to put in this seat.”

  “Hey,” I scolded, “don’t act like your butt’s not special!”

  We both laughed at that. So did Sadie, sitting two tables over. I’d missed her coming in, but went to her now as I dumped the garbage in the can.

  “Don’t even argue with me, I’m totally going to get you your stuff and bring it over. I can’t believe you’re even out on a day like this.” It had dawned gray and now was heavily overcast, the air tingling with the promise of snow.

  “It was this or sit home all day watching the game show channel,” she confessed. “I took an early maternity leave, and I’m bored out of my mind, Tesla. I’ve cleaned everything I could clean without bending over, which isn’t much when you think about it. And I needed to get out of the house before the weather turns so bad I can’t walk here.”

  I looked past her out the big glass windows. “Yeah, looks like it might snow today.”

  “I don’t like winter,” Sadie said flatly, also looking out the window.

  “Really? I do. I like being able to bundle up in layers so nobody notices that I’m totally overdosing on hot chocolate and cupcakes. And I like skiing, though I haven’t been anyplace but Ski Roundtop in forever. My boyfriend—” I caught myself, thinking of Charlie as my boyfriend. It caused such a delectable, giddy sensation I had to giggle out loud. She gave me a curious look. “He says we might go up to Vermont over Christmas break. I’ve never been there. He says it’s not quite as good as Colorado but it’s cheaper and closer.”

  “Wear a helmet.”

  My smile faded a little. “Hmm?”

  Sadie’s hands rested on her giant belly. She looked sad. “Skiing’s dangerous. Wear a helmet, okay?”

  “Oh. Sure.” I nodded, though I knew I probably wouldn’t. I also knew that no matter what a pregnant lady said, especially one as pregnant as Sadie, it was best to agree. “Absolutely.”

  “Tesla,” Joy said from behind me, “Darek seems to be having some issues with remembering the portion sizes for the panini sandwiches. I need you to refresh him.”

  “Sure,” I told her, as agreeable to her as I’d been to Sadie and with as much intent. “No problem.”

  “Hi, Joy.” Sadie smiled.

  She smiled, too. “Hi, Sadie. Wow. You’re getting close, huh?”

  “Another two months. I won’t be surprised if we have unexpected twins, the way I’m feeling.”

  “That would be…wow.” Joy cleared her throat.

  “Peppermint white-chocolate latte with a chocolate cupcake?” I said to fill the awkward silence Joy had made.

  Sadie nodded. “You’re awesome, Tesla. Thanks.”

  At the counter, Joy tugged my elbow with a hiss until I turned. “We don’t provide table service, Tesla.”

  I sighed and pitched my voice low. “You want me to make her waddle up to the counter, or worse, wait in line?”

  The line had grown again, thanks to a midmorning rush I could never quite figure out the cause of, but that happened almost every day. It was also a slightly more complicated time, because while it was early for lunch, people did start ordering sandwiches and things in addition to the muffins and bagels. Darek already had the sort of frantic look of being too far behind.

  “I want you to do your job,” Joy said.

  “Here’s an idea. Instead of bitching at us,” Darek said, “why don’t you step in and start ringing up orders? Or, since apparently I don’t know how to make a sandwich to your specs, you make some paninis?”

  I agreed with him, but didn’t have time to say so more tactfully, because Joy whirled on him like an attack dog. I think she even growled. I couldn’t see her expression, but it was scary enough to send Darek back a step.

  “Why don’t you just do. Your. Job!” she shouted.

  The almost constant buzz of conversation in the shop stopped. Apparently not caring she had an audience, Joy advanced on Darek. She got right up in his face with a pointing finger he looked ready to bite off.

  “If you’re going to be such a raging cunt,” Darek said, “why don’t you just go get fucked?”

  I wasn’t the only one who gasped aloud at that. I think everyone in the Mocha choked on something when Darek let loose. He pushed past Joy, actually shoving her out of the way when she wouldn’t move, then past me.

  “I’m so fucking out of here,” he told me. “Sorry, Tesla, but I told you if she got in my face again I was quitting. I’m done with this shit.”

  “Darek—”

  “You…you can’t quit!” Joy shouted after him.

  He paused after rounding the counter, and took in the line of people waiting, every eye on this explosion. “I just did. What, you’re going to fire me instead? Fine, fire me. Don’t you get it, Joy? I don’t fucking care. I’m just so glad to get out of here, away from you. Fire me, I quit, whatever difference, I don’t care. I’m gone.”

  He grabbed his coat from the hook and looked again at everyone watching. “Sorry, folks, show’s over. Order your coffee from that bitch up front. She might spit in it when you’re not looking, though.”

  By the disgusted looks I saw, I thought there was more than one person who believed him. Hell, just then I wasn’t sure I didn’t. We all watched him stalk out of the Mocha, the only sound following him was the jingle of the bell on the door he let swing shut behind him.

  Chapter 29

  “I hate leaving you here.” Meredith pouted and ignored Charlie’s pointed look at his watch. “All by your lonesome.”

  “I told you I’d be fine. I’ll go to my brother’s, it’s not a big deal at all. Seriously.” I squeezed her closer for a hug. “But you’d better go. I hear Charlie’s sister doesn’t like it if anyone’s late.”

  “Oh, God forbid we show up a few minutes off her schedule. I mean, I’m sure we’re not even going to be eating right away, but let us show up fifteen minutes after she told us to be there and we’ll hear about it for the rest of the day, how they were all waiting for us....” Meredith’s lip curled. “Charlie, did you get the pie?”

  He lifted the box. “Yes, honey. I got the pie.”

  She grinned wickedly. “Store-bought. Me? I happen to love the shit out of Andes chocolate-mint pie, but Susan is really into stuff that’s homemade.”

  Charlie laughed, shaking his head. “She’ll eat this.”

  “Oh, she’ll have two pieces while she moans about how she’s got to start exercising again, no question. But she’ll also make sure to remark how she thought I was going to bring a “handmade” pie. You know she will.”

  “Of course.” Charlie rolled his eyes. “C’mon. Tesla, we’ll be back late.”

  “No worries.” I shifted past Meredith to kiss him. “Drive safe. If I’m not here when you get home, text me.”

  Then, although Meredith was still dragging her feet, they finally got out the door. I heaved a sigh and spun around in the living room with my arms spread out, a real “the hills are alive” sort of moment. I hadn’t been alone in weeks
.

  There hadn’t been much alone time in Vic’s house, but there at least I’d had privacy. I could close my bedroom door and know that nobody would go in uninvited or without knocking. I could take a shower without someone coming in to use the toilet or the sink or just to chat with me while I shaved my legs.

  I loved living here with Meredith and Charlie, but I was seriously craving some time to myself. I put it to good use, too, unpacking some boxes I hadn’t yet managed to get through, and arranging some of my framed photos on the shelves in the living room. I hung a print I’d bought from a local artist who frequented the Mocha. I did some seriously dirty laundry and listened to my music at top volume while I danced around the kitchen in my panties.

  Suddenly, my plan to hang out at Cap’s apartment and eat whatever he pulled from the freezer was totally unappealing. I had so much to be thankful for this year, including the fact I made it to the grocery store before it closed for the day, that I wanted to celebrate this holiday with more of an effort. I bought a turkey breast and all the trimmings, even the makings for a pumpkin pie. I called my brother, who took little convincing to come to my new place and hang out watching television while I cooked.

  I even set Meredith’s fancy dining room table with some nice linens and the china she and Charlie had received from their wedding registry but never touched, as evidenced by the dishes still layered in boxes with bubble wrap. They didn’t have real silverware, but strangely enough, an unopened package of plastic flatware that looked like real metal. I used that, too.

  “Wow. Real napkins.” Cap pinched his thumb and forefinger together, the rest of his fingers splayed, and put it to the corner of his mouth. “Fancy.”