2. Arabella
2
Arabella
I t took way too long for me to shower and I almost ended up late for work. The keyword being–almost. Unfortunately, I’ve had to call off work, usually for mom related things like doctor appointments, more than I’m sure my boss is thrilled with. But I'm never late and when I’m here, I’m the best server he has. One of these days, I’ll finally enroll in school and stop living paycheck to paycheck. But today, I need this job.
“Arabella, I was worried you weren’t going to make it. It’s getting busy out there,” my boss, Martin, rushes up to me, sweating and out of breath like he’s just run a marathon. He’s short and stocky, but the man never stops.
“C’mon Martin. You know I’d never do that to you,” I reassure him with a light pat on the shoulder after tossing as much of my hair as I can, into a tight bun.
“You’re right, forgive me. Penny is out there and you know as well as I do, she’s not the best at this job. She stresses me out.” I have to laugh, because he’s not wrong. Penny is terrible. The only reason she’s even here is because Martin owed her dad a favor and that turned into giving his precious princess a job. Blech.
“There’s nothing to forgive. Where do you need me?”
“Can you cover section one? There’s a table waiting for you already.” He points to table six, in the corner.
I tie my apron around my waist, click my pen and scribble swirl on the back of my notepad. Thank goodness. It’s never a good sign when you start off your shift with a pen that doesn’t work.
“You got it, boss.” Table six, here I come.
“Welcome to Martin’s Bistro. My name is Arabella and I’ll be taking care of you today. Can I start you off with something to drink while you look at the menu?”
My next six hours are spent running like crazy and serving strangers until my feet feel like they’re about to fall off. Non-stop customers until we closed. Thankfully, I can practically do this job with my eyes closed, because I caught myself numerous times daydreaming about a different life. One where I don’t have to be responsible for everything and everyone. Where I can let go of all this tension and just be a young, irresponsible twenty-three-year-old. Where the weight that pulls me down is lifted from my shoulders and I’m free to actually live a little.
I’m startled from my thoughts, when a glass shatters and Martin hurries up to me with a concerned look etched on his face. “Arabella, are you okay? What happened?” Shit. I was doing it again.
“I’m so sorry Martin. It just slipped from my fingers,” I lie. I totally wasn’t paying attention. I need to either get laid for real or engage in some stellar self-care before I hurt myself. Lately, sex and orgasms have been my only escape from reality, but I can’t help but wonder if Wrinley is on to something with this kinky double date. Maybe a change of scenery is exactly the distraction I need.
“Go home, Arabella. I’ll finish up.” Martin insists while cautiously grabbing another glass from my hands.
“Are you sure?”
“I insist. You worked your ass off today. Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.” I nod, grateful for the reprieve and head home so I can do it all again the next day.
By the time Saturday finally rolls around, I’m getting excited to go out and have some fun, but there’s still a lot I need to do. My stomach roils knowing I still have to stop by mom’s. Her previous injuries have taken their toll on her, both physically and mentally, but as much as it’s affected her, it’s also taken a toll on my overall mental health over the years. It’s depressing, a lot for one person to manage and I need some help.
Shifting back and forth on my feet, I grab my phone and press dial. I don’t even know if he’ll answer, but I have to try.
“Hey little sis. What’s up?” Axel answers at the very last second.
“Axel. Have you talked to Mom or been to see her recently?”
“Not in a while, no. Why? Is something wrong?” He asks with just a hint of sarcasm. I shouldn’t be surprised at his tone. I’m pretty sure my big brother doesn’t have the capacity to care about hurting other people’s feelings. Even his own family’s.
“Just the same old shit. Different day. It’s hard doing it all by myself, you know. She needs help around the house, help getting to doctor appointments, and help with her meds. Probably needs groceries, because–as you know–she’s not allowed to drive. The list goes on, but I need help.”
He lets out an irritated huff.
“I’m not convinced she actually needs half of what you think she does. She just knows how to pull on your heart strings,” he replies bluntly. “You need to stop fucking coddling her or she’ll just keep taking from you until there’s nothing left for anyone else.”
“Wow. Don’t hold back on me, Axel.” My tone is full of sarcasm, but deep down there’s a tiny part of me that knows he’s right. But it’s easy for him to say, when he’s free to do whatever he wants. “It’s not as simple as you make it sound and you know it.”
“It’s as simple as you want it to be, Arabella. You could always try setting her up on a dating site. Maybe that would get her off your case for a bit. She always used to perk up when she had a new man on her arm. How long has it been now? I can’t even remember the last one’s name, it’s been so long.”
I know his name. How could I forget? He left a mark when he walked away, and not just on mom. My heart feels heavy as I recall how nice he always was to me. He stood up for me a couple of times with her, which no one else ever had and his actions towards me were a stark contrast to her criticism. I still don’t know exactly what happened the night they broke up.
“Ryker–his name was Ryker and he left six years ago.” He was one of the good ones, that’s for sure.
“Maybe she needs another dude to keep her busy, if you know what I mean.” Gross .
“That’s disgusting.”
“Maybe so, but if you aren’t able to set some boundaries with her, it’s a viable backup plan. I gotta run though, sis. Love ya.” And then, he’s gone. He’s such a dick. I often find myself questioning how we’re even related. He’s so black and white about everything and I’m all feelings and sensitivity.
Glancing down at my watch, I see it’s already 3pm and I have three hours to get everything done before I have to be home to get ready for tonight’s fun. But I can’t seem to make myself put the car in reverse. Instead, I sit here frozen, chewing on my lip until it starts to bleed, trying to build up the courage to move.
You can do this Arabella. You’re strong, beautiful and smart. You can do this. Nothing a little positive self-talk can’t fix, right?