Chapter Four
Maeda
We stared at each other in the mirror for a heartbeat. Then, two. Then, she pointed at the sink. “Mind if I wash my hands?”
My mind flashes with the image of my father, a preacher at a pulpit, reenacting the trial and sentencing of Jesus, I wash my hands of this. Isn’t that what I had done with her?
“Sure,” I said. I noticed an unfamiliar tattoo on her neck as she passed me.
A hand? And… is that a chili pepper? I turned and ducked out of the bathroom.
I reconnected with Tilly and Danielle in line for the food, and I tried not to feel shaken.
I repositioned my cardigan around my shoulders, tucked my hair behind my ears, and tried to find five things that were blue.
Blue was Dolly’s current favorite color.
1. Blue sign on the bathroom door. Nikki came out of the bathroom moments later with her big and easy smile. She seemed solid. Stable. As if seeing me had no real effect on her.
2. Blue ribbon tied around a small bucket being used to hold plastic forks. And, why should she be affected by me? I wasn’t so vain to think that Nikki still thought about me.
3. Blue shoelaces on Ben’s shoes. I wondered briefly how Dolly was doing.
4. Blue heart sticker on my emotional support water bottle.
I had stickers on every inch of this thing marking out the bisexual pride flag: pink, purple, blue.
The water bottle itself had once been branded with my parent’s church logo, but I buried it under so many stickers, the original black of the water bottle was mostly covered.
5. Blue on the pride flag behind Nikki. She was serving spoonfuls of pasta onto plates that were handed to her.
I watched her muscles flex in slow motion, and she extended a full plate back out to the person in line.
She barked a laugh at something they said.
I let my gaze travel along her familiar features.
It felt like I was rewatching a favorite childhood movie and realizing I still knew every word.
The line moved forward. I grabbed myself a fork, napkin, and plate.
Why was I feeling so jittery? Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with Nikki.
I was nervous about the event before I saw her.
I steeled myself, remembered the color of my shirt, grey like stone, like armor.
I was fine. Pine Grove was a small town, but that didn’t mean we would see each other all the time.
I hadn’t seen her the last several weeks. It was all going to be just fine.
I had erected a wall around myself when I left Tristan.
I mentally felt along it for any cracks that might have been left open.
I didn’t need anyone. It was me and Dolly, everything else was just noise.
I was the strength of a castle, and I could weather any storm.
Dolly depended on me to. With that comforting thought, I handed Nikki my plate, and she scooped a serving of pasta on it.
“Thank you,” I said when she handed it back to me.
“Yeah, sure. I mean, of course,” Nikki replied. And, I saw it there. A crack in her performance of calm. Two could play at that game, I thought. So, I straightened my mask and turned away toward the rest of community day.
“So,” Tilly said when I sat down, “are you going to do something about the chemistry between you and Nikki?”
“There’s no chemistry,” I said.
“I saw how she gave you pasta,” Tilly continued.
“The same way she gave everyone else pasta.”
Danielle placed a hand on Tilly’s arm, “Even I think you’re reaching here, babe.”
Tilly huffed, “I know when I’m right.”
“Sure you do, sweets,” Danielle kissed Tilly on the cheek.
I took a bite of my pasta, and, oh gods. I closed my eyes at the heavenly taste.
“Look!” Tilly fake-whispered, “She’s like a half-step away from moaning into her pasta.”
I swallowed my bite and gave Tilly a coy smile, “What can I say? I really love carbs.”
Later on, I was pursuing a table of queer literature, each book was only a dollar as a donation drive to support a community fund for gender-affirming care.
I got Dolly a book about two male penguins in captivity who raised a chick together, and I got myself a fiction story about a man living through and losing friends to the AIDS epidemic.
With my books in my tote bag, I looked at some of the local art vendors.
I bought a small painting that showcased merpeople with various body types.
“This is going to look great in my bathroom,” I told the artist. “My daughter loves mermaids right now, so I thought we could make the bathroom all merfolk themed.”
“Aww, I love that! I remember my mom always had seashells in the bathroom, which never made sense to me because we lived in a desert,” The artist finished my transaction.
“Hey there, Maeda!” It was Gene. “How are you enjoying community day?”
“It’s really nice! I love all the art.”
“Well, make sure you check out the ‘Queer History’ zine. I designed it myself,” they said with a swell of pride. “Did you get a plate of pasta?”
I nodded. “Yes, it was good.”
“Good? That’s an understatement,” Gene guffawed, “It’s like heaven in your mouth.
Nikki Thomas makes the noodles and everything by hand.
In fact —” My heart sped up when Gene raised their hand to someone behind me and announced.
“Come over here, Nikki!” Then, in a normal volume to me, Gene said, “I should introduce you to her. She is the manager at Lucky Lanes. And, she may have a job for you, or at least know someone who does.”
“Oh, that’s okay —” I started to protest.
“Nonsense, I know how stressful this transition has been for you. Besides, Nikki is someone I can always rely on,” Gene smiled.
I bristled. I didn’t want to rely on anyone, especially not Nikki. I wanted to be self-sufficient. Dolly deserved a mom who had her life under control and got it together on her own.
Nikki glided up with her hands in her pockets and her smile in place. I matched her energy, if she was comfortable, why shouldn’t I be? This also gave me a chance to look closer at her tattoos. Both arms were covered in florals and foliage.
“Hey there,” Nikki said. Her easy demeanor pissed me off.
Did she really feel nothing toward me? That was fine.
Preferred, actually. I had enough on my plate just taking care of Dolly and myself.
I really did not need to add Nikki’s opinion of me to that.
Nikki looked me over again, and then focused her attention on Gene. “What can I do for you, friend?”
Gene gestured to me. “This is Maeda Hart. She’s from Pine Grove, so you might remember her, but she just moved back a little bit ago and she’s looking for a job. I was wondering if you knew of any positions opening up somewhere.”
“We’ve met,” I confessed. I gave a bashful smile to Gene, “I was trying to tell you that. I appreciate it, but I’ll find something soon.”
“Yeah, I have an opening at Lucky Lanes, actually, starting next week,” Nikki said to Gene, completely ignoring me. What the hell? That was rude.
“That’s okay, really,” I said.
Gene clapped Nikki on the shoulder, “How fortuitous! I knew you’d come through, Nikki. You always do.”
“Anything for the community,” Nikki said. I wanted to stomp my foot. What kind of principal’s star pupil nonsense was this?
“Well, I’ll let you ladies exchange contact information. My work here as a liaison is through. I will see you soon, Maeda?” Gene raised their inflection at the end to make is sound like a question, but the emphasis on certainty begged to differ.
“Yeah, you will.” I smiled, but I was slightly simmering inside. I think they could tell with the smirk on their face as they walked away.
Nikki pulled out her phone and held it out to me. I could see that it was already open to a new contact card, and she wanted me to put my information in. I held up a hand to stop her.
“I don’t need a pity job,” I said. “I don’t know what kind of brownie points you were hoping to get with Gene, but I am no one’s charity case.”
Nikki raised an eyebrow. “Maeda, I have an opening. You can come try it out and we can see if it’s a fit.
It’s not a pity job, it’s not charity. It’s more like an audition-style interview.
If it’s not a fit, then you can continue your job hunt on your own.
Or, you can skip Lucky Lanes all together.
” She paused and cocked her head. “I didn’t think you were someone who let an opportunity pass by.
Especially if you thought it would benefit you. ” There was snark with that last bit.
“Excuse me?” I narrowed my eyes. Was she challenging me or insulting me or both? And honestly, I knew I deserved it a little.
Nikki waggled her phone in front of me again, “It’s not a handout, Mae, it’s just an opportunity.
” Then, she told me how much per hour and how many hours a week to expect.
I had to admit to myself, I didn’t have any other choices lined up.
Reluctantly, I took her phone and put my information in then sent myself a text. A simple fern emoji.
“Alright,” Nikki said, “send me your resume and schedule conflicts, and I’ll let you know when to come in for your trial shift.” Then, she turned and walked away.
I was electrified.
Pro: A potential job.
Con: Nikki Thomas?
Pro: Stability! Yay!
Con: I couldn’t shake the feeling of being a charity case, of not having earned the opportunity
Pro: I had the chance to earn my place and keep it.
Con: Nikki. Fucking. Thomas.