Not Quite Crazy
Page 18

Trent grinned. “I’ll tell her. Anyone in particular?”
Now it was time to move things along. “Good-bye, Trent.”
His brother lifted both hands in the air as he walked out. “Okay, okay. Just asking.” He turned before walking out of the office. “I heard you left work early on Wednesday.”
Jason narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, so?”
“You never leave work early.”
Jason saw right through his little brother’s questioning. “Good-bye, Trent.”
While Rachel worked diligently to have her report on her marketing plan ready for Jason and the senior executives on Monday, she spent an awful lot of time looking toward the hall, wondering when Jason would show up.
He didn’t.
She thought about texting him.
She didn’t.
Julie glanced around the divider separating them and caught her staring out the window. “Pssstt.”
Rachel jumped. “What?”
“Any chance I can talk you into drinks after work?”
“Happy hour?”
For a minute, Julie looked hopeful.
“I remember happy hour . . . it’s that time before you need to get on the freeway and make sure the kid living with you is home and has dinner.”
Julie pushed her chair back behind the divider separating them. “If you took the damn train, you’d be home in time for all that and still have an hour for some happy in your life.”
Rachel squeezed her eyes closed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry, Julie.”
“Whatever.”
She felt as if she was screwing up the only friend she’d really managed since moving to this city.
Rachel pushed her chair around the cubby to see her colleague. “Julie.”
She kept typing.
“I don’t know how to balance this. It isn’t like Owen has been my responsibility for fifteen years and I know the boundaries.”
Julie stopped and met her gaze. “Is he a latchkey kid now?”
Rachel blinked.
“Does he come home from high school, turn the lock on the door, and you’re not home?”
“Yes.”
“Can he microwave a meal, shove a pizza in the oven?”
Rachel felt the walls closing in. “Yes.”
Julie took a few breaths. “Then he won’t miss you for an hour while you try and be a single adult.”
She hated that Julie was right. Much as Rachel didn’t like stepping out of her newfound comfort zone with Owen, her friend was right.
“Next week.”
Julie rolled her eyes and looked away.
“No, really . . . I’ll tell Owen I’m staying in the city for a night out and will be home late. One Friday night won’t hurt . . . right?”
Julie slowly let her lips pull into a grin. “You’re sure?”
No. “Yes. Even Em and I would go out on occasion.” In the early years, Em would get a babysitter. Still, Owen’s mother managed to play adult once in a while.
“I’m holding you to it.”
Rachel tried to smile.
“And if we have the night, bring a little black dress. You can change at my place.”
The walls started to close in. Why did she have to suggest a night, when an hour would have made Julie happy?
“Black dress. Got it.” She pushed back to her space. “Wait, it’s winter. I’ll be cold.”
“Little. Black. Dress.” Julie’s staccato couldn’t be missed.
“Okay.”
“And a coat. No reason to be pissing cold.”
Rachel placed her head on her desk and mumbled, “Oh my God.”
“Don’t even think about backing out on me!”
Her head popped up. “I’m not.”
“Good!” Julie peeked around the corner. “You’re gonna love New York.”
Rachel skipped the high school football game that night and used the time to shop for a few more boxes of Christmas lights and presents. The shopping center closest to home was shoulder to shoulder people herding through the department stores. Parents dragged small children around after their bedtimes, resulting in tears and tantrums. The line to sit on St. Nick’s lap wrapped around like a summer day in Disneyland. Holiday music blared as if it was yelling at the shoppers to enjoy the damn season.
Rachel didn’t recall a Christmas when there was this much stress mixing in with mistletoe. Then again, her role in any gathering consisted of bringing a hot dish or a bottle of wine. She normally opted for the liquor. Now that she was responsible for a kid, a very grown-up teenager, but a kid nonetheless, everything was different. Instantly Christmas became something it had never been before.
A chore.
She scolded herself after walking into a video game store to pick out the latest must-have on Owen’s list. The line to the register was out the door. She should have just shopped on Amazon like everyone else. She glanced around. “Almost everyone,” she muttered.
A massive display advertised the game she sought, along with a zillion copies of the disk. She snagged her copy and found the last person in the long line. “How long have you been waiting?” she asked the lady in front of her.
“Five minutes.”
The man in front of her chimed in. “I’ve been here ten. The people at the register haven’t moved.”
The teenagers manning the store appeared to be dealing with an exchange for one customer, and only two registers were open. To be fair, there were only two places the employees could check people out.
Five minutes later and the line finally moved up by one. Behind her it had grown by three.
Rachel fished her cell phone out of her back pocket, searching for a distraction.
She opened it up to find a missed text from Jason. Who is winning the game tonight?
She snapped a picture of the long line and sent it off. Couldn’t tell you.
That looks brutal.
Shoot me now, she joked.
I do my shopping in June.
They moved forward by a family of four.
I take it there are no kids in the family. Because if there were, early shopping just meant more shopping. Kids had a tendency to change their minds, and since technology was the big turn-on for teens, stuff was dated in six months.
Rachel ignored the woman who backed into her, the lady’s bags nearly taking out the display standing in the aisle.
Nope, not yet.
That was interesting.
Yet?
I assume it’s only a matter of time. Glen has been married a year and a half, Trent just over four years.
She was down to two customers in front of her.
I’ll try harder to get this all done online next year.
You still have time this year.
She glanced up, moved forward, then ducked back into her phone.
Other than a couple of video games, Owen didn’t ask for anything. I think he feels guilty.
Maybe I can get some ideas out of him tomorrow.
Much as she wanted to wipe the smile off her face at the thought of Jason coming back over, she didn’t. That would be great. Any idea is better than me buying the kid socks.
Now that she thought about it, socks weren’t a bad idea.
Poor Owen. I’ll see what I can find out.
Thanks.
Is 9 too early?
That’s perfect.
See you then.
Rachel tucked her phone away and noticed the lady behind her glaring.
A register had opened and no less than five people were snarling at her. “Oh, sorry.” She skittered up and tried to ignore the not so nice words from those in line behind her.