Chapter 12 A Rumor Won’t Ruin This Day
As busy adults, Katrina and I fit in time together however we can get it. For instance, we spent the early morning checking things off our lists: she went with me to a warehouse, I went with her to notarize documents for her clients, we made a decidedly quick Target run (because when are Target runs truly quick), and we picked up breakfast from Athena’s in Cranston to eat in the car, where she interrogated me on the nature of my new (she air-quoted this) relationship.
It’s not fun keeping the secret from her, but telling anyone besides my mom is too great of a risk, and there’s no denying Katrina loves to gossip. Thankfully, she believed that Issac and I didn’t decide to be together until after we visited her a few days ago. In fact, she was pleasantly pleased with herself, making the deduction that she’s the reason I realized Issac wasn’t just a friend. When she said it, my mind jumped back to the sex dream, and I had to shovel home fries into my mouth to stop from spilling about it and revealing my lie. Afterward, I squeezed details from her about her most recent interaction with her coworker, who she constantly competes with for big clients. They bicker so much, I think they have hate-to-love potential; she thinks he’d be only good in the bedroom, and even then, he probably doesn’t do much to spoil his lovers, so she’ll pass on any future opportunities he might present her. By the time Katrina drops me off at the shop, I’m fulfilled in the way that girl time tends to give. My walk is lighter, I’m laughing more, my pores are smaller, and we didn’t even have to get facials.
Midway through another beautifully busy day at Wildly Green, my doctor calls to say I’m in the clear. My labs are looking about the same as they were last year, and I’m doing just fine.
“And the blood pressure issue?”
“Have you been keeping track of it? I think we said a few weeks, right?”
I laugh nervously and glance around like someone else can hear our conversation, but I’m alone in the back room of the shop. “Right.”
“Good, so keep doing that and call the office with the results in a couple of weeks. And we’ll adjust as needed. Everything will be good. Okay?”
“Okay.” I breathe out, the relief finally settling in. “And about the anxiety…”
“Would you like me to prescribe that Prozac?”
“Yeah, I think I would.”
“No problem,” he says. “I’ll have it sent to the pharmacy.”
After the call, I walk into the main room and shoot Mom a smile. She raises her fists and gives them a happy little shake, knowing it means good news to add to our already good day. Mom and Lex have been skipping around the place like kids on a playground, and it’s times like this that I think about Dad and miss things that never happened. I could almost picture him dancing with Mom to the music, chatting up the customers on the way out about how high gasoline prices are right now or playing his guitar out front thinking he’d attract people that way. He’d make my stomach hurt from laughing so hard while working the register.
“Excuse me?” someone says, breaking the spell of my daydream.
“Oh, sorry.” I smile at the woman. “Ready to cash out?”
She’s got a basket full of products, but hugs it to her chest. “Actually, I’m still shopping, but I was wondering if I could take a picture with you.”
A small laugh breaks free. “A picture? With…me?”
Maybe Katrina wasn’t lying earlier when she said I’ll become famous by extension.
The woman nods. “Please? I watch Issac’s videos every morning. He’s such an inspiration. I mean, he’ll be hanging string lights and giving his thoughts on the expectations partners should and shouldn’t have and it’s just…ugh. He’s so real. You know? And you’re…”
“Okay. Sure,” I rush to say to save her from further explaining, and to save me from the explanation too. “How about a selfie?”
“Actually, I was hoping to get the store sign in the background.”
This is good, I tell myself. More exposure for the shop. But I feel silly when Lex comes up, pokes me in the back, and injects himself in the conversation with a playful smile. “I’d be happy to take it.”
The customer practically shoves her phone into his hands and rushes to get into position near the small sign we have hanging over one of our product tables. I was hoping to attract as little attention as possible, but a few people are already watching. She poses with the basket, tilts her head toward me. I wonder if she has a large following, how many people will see this picture, and I start to sweat. One might think Lex’s dedication to getting the right shot is endearing considering he takes photographs on his weekend hikes with a fancy FUJIFILM X-T4 camera, but I know he just wants to stretch out this uncomfortable moment and tease me about my fake smile later.
The woman follows me back to the register, giddy as she swipes through the pictures in front of me. “How long did you say you’ve been dating Issac?”
The question catches me off guard. “I didn’t say. And that’s a personal question, so I’d rather not answer.”
She lifts her head to stare at me. “Interesting,’’ she says, scanning me from my waist to my ponytail.
What kind of manipulation is this? She was just shy and sweet two seconds ago.
“I was just wondering because there are rumors going around that Issac was dating both you and Melinda at the same time, even though he already knew who he would choose.”
Lex sucks his teeth. “Everybody loves a scandal. Too bad you won’t find one here. And it’s not like he was in a committed relationship with Melinda. Any fans who truly love Issac would know that rumor is out of character. He’s been honest on the internet since day one.”
The woman’s face falls and doesn’t recover. “Oh, of course. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’ll just…” She points to somewhere far off in the store. “Let me get back to my shopping.”
I smile at her. “It was a pleasure.”
“Barely,” Lex says before she’s even out of earshot.
I give Lex my most thankful expression and say, “You know I absolutely hated that. People are really—”
“You know what I hate?” Lex cuts in, jet-black hair falling over one side of his face and making him look like a model. I always tell him he should do a shoot with Issac, but he says he’s much happier behind a camera than in front of one. “Liars,” he deadpans. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
My stomach twists; I shake my head. He gives me a pointed look.
“I’ve known you and Issac for years. It’s clear you’re keeping secrets. How fake is this whole thing on a scale of one to ten?”
“Shh…” I glance around, whisper through gritted teeth. “This is not a good place or a good time for your interrogation. What did my mom tell you?”
Lex narrows his eyes. “Do you remember that time we were in front of mixed company, and you asked me about that weird guy I dated who showed me his sex doll?”
“That was an accident,” I say. “It just slipped.”
“Fine, but no one can hear us; your mother is putting on a show by the perfume section. And she didn’t tell me a thing. I’m smart enough to read the signs on my own, and even smarter because I just got you to admit it.”
“You tried to trick me with your words like that customer just did.”
He leans against the counter, says, “But I was successful at it, sweetie.”
I smack my lips together, sigh. “I was going to tell you…eventually.”
“Whatever,” he says, waving his fingers at me. “Just give me the details, every single one of them, before another fan pulls you in for a picture.”
When the last customer of the day leaves, Mom and Lex lock up while I head to the back room to make lip balms. I’m melting wax when Issac calls, and, despite the run-in with one of his fans, who didn’t end up buying a damn thing, he can hear the happiness in my voice. My health is better than I thought it was. We’ve made a ton of money. And mostly, I feel relieved to have Lex to talk to about this whole fake-dating scheme.
“Omph,” Issac says, like the sound of me being happy hit him right in the chest. “Alright, crew”—he’s talking to the people on his shoot—“the love of my life is in a good mood. I can literally hear her smiling. No work today. Everyone go for a swim out back. I just want to sit in this for a while.”
I hear applause, then laughing, someone saying, “You wish. We’ll be here until eight.”
Can I grin any harder? “Love of your life? You’re really milking this, aren’t you?”
“Hell yes, I am,” Issac says, and I imagine his brows piecing together, his tongue between his teeth where it usually sits when he’s being funny. “Anyway, called to see if you work at the hotel this weekend.”
“You asked me this morning, and I definitely told you that I do.”
“Did you?” He’s smiling now. “I don’t remember that.”
“Stop playing,” I say. “What is it?”
He exhales, then, “Call off so you can be with me.”
The words make my heart thrum for some reason, worse when he softens his voice and he adds, “Please?”
“I can’t. I already switched shifts for the week to work in the shop. I’ll get written up.”
“Luckily, you don’t need the hotel job anymore,” he says. “What if you just quit?”
“We can’t say that from a few days of good sales. I should play it safe,” I tell him, though all day between customers I’ve been wondering how I’ll even have time to work at the hotel if business keeps up this way.
“I don’t like it, but I get it,” he says. “If you change your mind, there’s something I’d really love to bring you to…as my girl.”
I wonder how close his crew is. If he meant for them to hear that. “I’m sorry, but even if I called out or quit the hotel, I still have to worry about the shop orders. We weren’t prepared to have this many customers.”
“Knew you’d say that, so I went ahead and asked Vanessa before you,” he says. “She’s happy to have you come out. Says she and Lex can handle the orders and stocking this weekend.”
“You would,” I say. “And I bet she did.”
“What’s that bitter tone for?”
“Nothing,” I tell him, but make a mental note to have a talk with Mom. I wonder if she wants me to be seen with Issac in public to get the business more traffic. “First official outing?”
“First official one,” he says, and I can hear his happiness, him grinning now. He thinks he has me decided. “And I don’t think even you, hermit crab of the decade, will want to miss it.”
“Well, you might not know me at all, then,” I say, “because there’s no place you could bring me that would outweigh my desire to crawl inside of my shell.”
“You talk a lot of shit for someone who’s not going to be able to resist a chance to attend an album listening party for the one and only Shida Anala. It’ll be fun, Ni.”
My brain freezes on the name for a moment, and then: “You’re fucking with me.”
“I wouldn’t,” Issac says. “Not about this.”