15. Rest
15
Rest
After my shift, I parked in my driveway, the car engine growling as I twisted the ignition off.
No one had said anything to me yet. When I left, the security guards were too busy with shoplifters and lost kids to even register who I was while checking my bag.
But what if this was it? The end of my holiday?
I needed a hug now more than ever. Since I was home and relatively safe, I unbuckled my seatbelt, then crawled into the back seat searching for Mr. Waddles.
Someone knocked on the window.
I slammed back into the other side of the car. Thank goodness the sippy cup and coloring books were hidden in the back seat pouches.
Outside, Zack raised his upturned palms at me.
“What?” I snapped, rubbing my sore elbow. I’d kept my secret since I was fourteen, but lately everyone was interested in my back seat.
“Your headlights are pointed right into the dining room. They’re blinding. What are you doing out here?” he asked, bending his knees.
“Nothing. Trying to relax.” I made sure my blankie covered Mr. Waddles, then clambered up front and switched off the headlights.
Zack eyed me. “If you’re using CBD–”
I opened the car door, forcing him back. “I’m not using anything. Let’s go in.”
“Your voice sounds like crap. Did you talk too much again?” he asked.
I sighed and went inside, Zack stomping at my heels. Our moms were cleaning food platters they’d taken to their church group that morning.
Mom jerked her chin. “How was work?”
“Fine,” I said. She’d probably be happy if they fired me. She'd claim it was 'divine intervention' so I could take finding a stable job more seriously.
She frowned and eyed me. “Are you hungry?”
I used a bare piece of wall between framed watercolor flowers to balance as I toed off my boots. “No, though I could use some tea.”
“I’ll start the kettle,” she said.
Zack kicked off his shoes. “I could eat.”
“Come on, I’ll make you a plate,” Aunt Coral said.
I didn’t bother peeling off my puffy coat until I got to my room, where I hung it on the closet door. According to the mirror, I was a raggedy elf doll. My hair stuck out in odd places from wearing the cap and my red and green dress uniform was practically fused to my body with sweat. My nose was bright pink, my lips were chapped, and the glitter from my eyeshadow was sprinkled across my cheeks. It was messy, maybe a little sad, but me, nonetheless.
Without the uniform, I’d still want to sing along to holiday specials and help people make happy memories. But maybe I couldn’t afford to be myself. I couldn’t trust anyone with that side of me.
I stripped and tucked my uniform away before heading into a hot shower. The steam made me dizzy, multicolor dots dancing like miniscule sugarplums behind my eyelids. By the time I got back to my room, a mug of tea was waiting by my bed.
“Thanks, Mom,” I called, brushing my fingers through my wet hair.
The scalding tea soothed my throat, but hurt my lips. I blew on it, then set it on my nightstand before settling into bed. My oversized sweatshirt, loose pajama pants, and pale pink comforter were big enough I could swaddle myself.
Everything would be better in the morning. It had to be.
As exhausted as I was, I couldn’t sleep. I scrolled through my phone. My friends had gone out while I was working. I liked the photos and cried, sniffling away my regrets. I wished I could talk to someone. My high school and college crews would be more likely to suggest a drink than coloring books. Our schedules never aligned, anyway. Chestnut didn’t really care about me. Once I was fired, he’d never talk to me again.
“Shelby!” Aunt Coral’s voice rattled my mug.
“What?” I croaked, raising my head.
“Come eat something,” she said.
I fell back on the pillow and hugged my twisting stomach. “I can’t.”
“Whaaaat?”
Why did they insist on shouting all the time? My throat was killing me. I texted Zack. “I’m not hungry, but thank them for me.”
“Go get your cousin,” Aunt Coral said.
Zack’s big sigh could be heard halfway across the house. He marched over and rapped on my door.
“I’m fine,” I rasped.
“Are you dressed?” he asked.
I turned towards the wall. “Yes. Please go away.”
Zack barreled into my room. “I can’t hear you.” His face went white as I scrambled to sit up and wipe my cheeks. “Wh-what happened? Who did this to you?”
I curled my knees into my chest. “No one. I’m just tired.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Get out, Zack.” I launched the pillow at him, my throat burning in protest.
He batted it to the floor. Now, my pillow was dirty. And I didn’t have time to wash it.
Covering my face, I suppressed a sob, which turned into a coughing fit. Was it hormones? Stress? I couldn’t stop. I could barely breathe.
Zack shoved my pillow back on the bed and pounded on my back. “What the hell? Do you need some water?”
I half-heartedly pushed him away. “Just go.”
“I can’t leave you like this,” he said firmly.
I rubbed my eyes. “Why? Because your mom will be mad?”
“Because you’re upset. I’m not going to leave my cousin crying in her bed.” Huffing, he sat by my feet and glared at the floor until my sobs subsided to sniffles. “So, what is it?”
“I can’t talk about it,” I whispered, hugging the pillow. Maybe I overreacted.
Zack clapped his knees, then stood. “Well, I want you to know I think of you like my sister.”
“Your annoying sister,” I mumbled.
His gaze swept back to me. “And if you tell me anything in confidence, I will take it to the grave. I will also kick ass.”
“I bet.” I chuckled, blowing my nose.
A few beats later, Zack was still standing there, an awkward, angry box-man. Did he actually care?
Chewing my lip, I glanced at my rumpled uniform. I couldn’t tell him about Harvey. Or my job.
Zack’s hands twitched towards his ear. “I have to do something to make you feel better. What do you want? Toast? A…a hug?”
“Waddles,” I blurted out. Oh, nutcracker.
Zack leaned back on his feet, his gaze shifting about the room. “You want me to waddle?”
As hilarious as that would be, it wasn’t what I needed.
I rubbed my arms. “My penguin plush, Mr. Waddles. He’s in the back seat of my car. I hid him there so Mom won’t give him away.” The rest of my stash was concealed enough he wouldn’t find it unless he went digging.
Zack nodded, somber. “Leave it to me.” He sped off, doors clattering and shoes shuffling. A few minutes later, he returned.
“What’s that in your arm?” Aunt Coral asked.
“Shelby needed something from her car. I’ll take her a plate. She needs to focus on something. Don’t worry about it.” More clattering, more chatter. Then, he made his way to my room with Mr. Waddles in a plastic grocery bag and a plate of cold leftovers and fruit in his other hand. He held everything out to me, his expression blank yet fierce. “I’ll eat it if you don’t want to.”
“No one is going to eat my penguin.” I hugged my round, lovely friend. The vice around my lungs loosened just a bit as Zack rolled his eyes, restoring my sense of normalcy.
He plopped down next to me and queued a video on his phone. “Watch one of these with me and I’ll leave. What do you want? Conspiracy, cooking, gaming…”
I smiled and wiped away a few more tears. If I picked cartoons, would he also be disgusted with me?
He hesitated and pulled back. “Am I making it worse?”
“No. A lot is, um, overwhelming," I said. "Thank you for helping me.” Maybe I couldn’t tell him everything. But at least I had someone who’d sit here without judgment until I stopped crying.
I didn't expect it to be Zack. That in itself was a miracle. Things were changing.
I curled around Mr. Waddles.
Yeah, things were changing.