Page 6 of Baby, It's You
I installed a home gym in my basement when I moved in. Since I travel often for work, there’s no point getting a gym membership. I also have a crazy case of insomnia, so instead of sitting alone with my thoughts in the dark at 4 A.M., I work out.
I grab my camera and hook it up to my laptop so the footage of Wes from today can upload. Then I head back downstairs and beeline past the kitchen, where I hear Dennis snooping through my drawers, going to the basement.
When I get down there and click on the light, I feel like I’m in my safe space. The walls are covered with photos from my favorite moments with pro skaters and I have a wooden shelf full of my dad's collectibles and old records.
Walking over to one of the little model cars on the middle shelf, I brush some dust off the top. “I promise I’ll shine you guys up soon,” I say, looking over the pieces of metal that hold way more memories than value.
The loss of my father never gets easier. Some days the sadness feels smaller, and I think, “Hey, I’m coping pretty well now.” And then the next day the loss will wash over me, consume me, and take all of the progress I thought I made with it.
Glancing at the clock, I get ready to start my thirty-minute warm-up on the treadmill and head to my speakers.What will it be today, I think to myself as I scroll through my playlists. The Strokes? King Diamond? No, I find the artist I’m looking forand smile. The sound of Cher singing begins to blast through my sound system.
Real men listen to Cher.
Chapter 5
Olive
“Crap,” I say, slamming my trunk in the bar parking lot, realizing that I forgot my mask for tonight’s themed karaoke night. Jane and Seymour always loved singing together so back in the ’90s they started a weekly karaoke night with some kind of crazy theme that the regulars would go all out for. The theme all summer long was Mask or Task. If you didn’t wear a mask, you would end up on stage having to do some ridiculous request that one of the regulars wrote on a piece of paper in the “Task” bucket that hung on the wall by the jukebox. The entire year, the bar patrons would laugh as they wrote something on a sheet of paper and threw it in the bucket, preparing for the summer. Some of them werereally bad. I was not taking any chances.
This was one of Jane’s favorite themes and she would always tell me how she got everyone to lie to Seymour about what day it was so he would be the only one without a mask and end up on the bar stage doing something ridiculous. Her eyes would twinkle as she laughed and described to me the time that he had to do jumping jacks and sing “Amazing Grace” simultaneously. Or when he had to recite the Gettysburg Address from a piece of paper while wearing a pink thong and bra on top of his clothes.He was always a good sport about it, Jane would tell me, deep in her nostalgia.
I usually always kept a Halloween mask in my trunk. But last week, I sat it down on the bar at the end of the night and a drunk girl grabbed it and kept shoving it in her best friend's face telling her to “make out with Mike” and then I never saw the mask again. Imagine being so drunk you steal a Halloween mask and then the next day, you wake up with that on your floor. InJuly. I would pay to know what she was thinking that morning.
I check the clock on my phone and decide to run over to The Mart, which is across the street, since there is a lull in business at this time of day. Tripp left at 2 P.M. saying that he had a dentist appointment to “check his night guard,” whatever that means. He also told me that he can’t stand the theme nights and everyone's “drunken charades,” so he won’t be returning after. Thank god.
Crossing the street and stepping inside The Mart, a store I know like the back of my hand, I'm greeted with an ice-cold blast of AC. I wave to Mr. Ray at the counter as I head to the candy aisle to grab Rob his “thank you” Nerds.
“I’m having a mask crisis!” I shout over my shoulder.
“No more Mike Myers?” Mr. Ray responds.
“He was taken from me. RIP Mike, you saved me from many horrible tasks, and I will always remember you,” I say playfully, putting my hand over my heart.
“Well, I don’t know what you’re going to find here to use, unless you’re going to cover your face in Band-Aids and pretzels.”
“Hmm Band-Aids…that's not a bad idea, actually. But so painful, right?”
“Depends how bad you want to get out of the dreadedtasks,” he chuckles, opening his eyes wide for emphasis.
I keep scanning each aisle and say, “AH HA!” when I see a large box of cereal.
I proudly walk it up to the counter and Mr. Ray gives me a quizzical look as he scans my items. “Don’t doubt my crafting abilities.” I wiggle my finger at him. “I have an idea.”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I believe you. Give this to Rob for me please,” he says, reaching under the counter and tossing a small bottle of fresh honey into my hands. Mr. Ray’s wife, Sonjia, has a bee farm in their yard, and she always gives Rob honey because he makes them takeout once a week, his treat. Rob doesn’t expect anything in return and just likes cooking for them, but she always wants to show her thanks.
“You’ve got it, boss,” I say, giving the cereal box a shake and heading out the door.
As soon as I get back to the bar, I go to the kitchen and find Rob reading while leaning against the grill.
“Honey. Candy,” I say, and sit them down next to him on the prep station.
He looks up from his book and gives me a wide smile. “It was nice doing business with you,” he states, grabbing the Nerds, then ripping the top open and shaking the bag into his mouth.
“Thank you for covering for me this morning.” I lean against the opposite counter. “It was another long night with Ivy.”
Rob gives me an understanding look. “You’re a good friend to her. She will thank you one day for always being her shoulder to cry on.”
I sigh. “I just want to shake her and tell her towake up. I feel like she’s under some spell and I hate the way he makes her view herself. I don't get it. I would never put myself in a position like that and I don’t know why she allows him to hurt her. Repeatedly.”
