321 Days
Rhea unlocked Topanga General Store and turned on the lights.
This was her least favorite time of day, first thing in the morning.
When she had to sit alone with the smell of designer clothes, beeswax candles, and traumatizingly uncomfortable shoes.
Before any customers entered and gave her a purpose, before Louisca arrived with a juicy story of whatever dramatic date he had gone on the night before.
Rhea put her Rachel Comey bag down in the tiny back office and checked her appearance in a small mirror behind the door.
Her poofy hair was fighting back against the gel she’d slathered on an hour ago; the marine layer was her worst enemy.
Her eye makeup was already running; she rubbed it off as the lightbulb on the ceiling flickered and went out.
She searched for a new lightbulb in the dusty cabinet behind her desk; sweeping cobwebs aside, she pulled a bulb out of a cardboard box.
“But I’m gonna open more stores someday,” she imagined herself meekly explaining to her unimpressed former teachers. “I still have time to be the next Jenni Kayne.”
Rhea ventured out onto the sales floor and sat on a stool behind the cash wrap. She checked the time and tried to think of a useful activity to fill the next couple of hours. Customers never arrived before noon, and yet, she opened every day at ten and sat…alone.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Louisca said, and Rhea looked up, surprised.
“You’re so early.”
“My roommate was doing improv practice in my living room. Rhea, I cannot. The stomping and screaming. I’d rather work.”
Rhea laughed; of all the employees she had hired over the years, Louisca was her favorite. His real name was Louis Carlo Hernández, but whenever he introduced himself, he said, “My name is Louis Carlo, but if you love me, call me Louisca.”
Rhea had never seen Louisca in a bad mood; he seemed to love every aspect of life, even the hard parts—especially the hard parts.
Every broken heart, disappointment, or bad experience seemed to somehow strengthen his positivity.
Rhea feared someday he would explode and unleash suppressed rage on all the innocent bystanders of Topanga, but thus far she had not seen even a crack in his upbeat facade.
“I need a sexy-gardener update. Please tell me he called so I don’t have to start hating him,” Louisca said as he plopped down on the stool next to Rhea.
“No, nope. Not yet. I’m trying not to lose hope.”
“How many days has it been?”
“Five.”
“You’re fine, he’s gonna reach out.”
Rhea breathed an illogical sigh of relief, as if Louisca were Danny’s official spokesman. Then she noticed Louisca cast his eyes down for the briefest moment.
“What?” she asked.
“What? Nothing—I mean…well, you could always reach out to him.”
“Won’t I seem desperate?”
“Or confident?”
“Oh God, you think five days is too long. You think he should’ve reached out by now. You think I have to track him down and beg him to date me—”
“No, I just know how important it is for you to, you know, meet the right guy, and you shouldn’t let him get away—”
An embarrassed heat flashed across Rhea’s face as she thought about humbly asking Tiny for his number.
“Rhea, help,” a frazzled woman said as she hurried through the door. “Look, look at me, I’m a disaster.”
Rhea and Louisca took in the coffee stain covering their favorite regular’s left breast and cringed on her behalf.
“I don’t have time to go home and change, I’m already late for work.”
Rhea sprang into action; this was her favorite part of the job. She loved helping anyone in a crisis: the insecure woman with nothing to wear, stressed about an important date, or the college kid trying to find ways to dress more like an adult without accruing even more debt.
Rhea guided her regular back to the dressing rooms and stood outside the closed curtain.
“Do not worry, all will be well, give me the shirt,” Rhea said.
She tossed it over. Rhea caught it and added, “Louisca will bring it to Canyon Cleaners around the corner, and you can pick it up whenever.” Rhea threw the blouse to Louisca.
Rhea walked through the store like an athlete in flow, picking out button-ups and silk blouses, all a perfect match for the pants, shoes, and bag her regular had walked in wearing. She quickly slipped all the options through the curtain.
“I think the light blue silk is the best choice, and it’s on sale, but try them all if you have time.”
“I don’t, but I trust you.”
She came out moments later wearing the light blue silk and looking a good deal better than when she’d arrived.
“Pay next time,” Rhea said, waving away her Amex.
“Oh, thank you so much,” she said, and raced out the door. Louisca and Rhea watched her sprint to her waiting Mercedes and peel out of Pine Tree Circle into the rush of Topanga Canyon Boulevard.
“You did a good thing,” Louisca said, “but I can’t bring this to the cleaners. I hooked up with the guy behind the counter, and he ghosted me.” He said this joyfully, as if being ghosted was exciting, and handed the stained blouse back to Rhea.