Page 10 of Leo
My inner voice was kind of a jerk sometimes.
Bethany—we were back to Bethany for the moment—knocked on my office door so I put my wandering thoughts on the back burner for the moment.“What’s up?”
“The online ordering system is being janky again,” she said.“Someone just called saying they were trying to place an order for a Thanksgiving thing and the page kept trying to triple the amount of desserts they wanted.”
I groaned.“Fuck.Okay, I’ll see what I can do about it.In the meantime, did you take their order over the phone?”
Bethany rolled her eyes but then her expression morphed into super bubbly happy pleasant smiley girl, something almost terrifying to behold.“Of course!I amsosorry for the inconvenience, sir!That’s gotta be frustrating!I’ll tell our tech guy right away.Would you like to place your order while I’ve got you on the phone?Six swiss rolls, a Yule log, and, wow,sevenpumpkin chiffon pies?Would you like to add in any of our seasonal specialties such as stained-glass cookies, candy corn cupcakes, or any of our delicious, house-made breads?”Her expression fell back into neutral lines.“A tray of pumpkin petit fours, a tray of buttermilk pie tartlets, and three loaves of brioche.”
“Candy corn cupcakes!There we go!Thank you, Bethany!”I made a hasty note in my phone to order the supplies for candy corn cupcakes for October.“Now go do your homework.”
“I did it already.”
“You came here directly from school.I haven’t seen you in the office with your laptop yet.”
She scuffed the toe of her boot against the linoleum, leaving a black streak that was going to be a pain to get up.“Maybe I did it during study period.”
“And maybe monkeys will fly out of my ass.”
She narrowed her eyes.“Fine, but if I finish it before it’s time to go home, I get to pick what we have for dinner.”
“So long as it’s not meatloaf.”
“Garlic spinach pizza from Firey’s, with extra garlic, extra pepperoncini, and that mango habanero dipping sauce on the side.”
“Deal.”Thank god kissing someone isn’t on my list of things to do tonight.Blech.
She slinked into the room and grabbed her backpack from beside my desk, setting up on the narrow clean space across from me.
“I’ll man the front,” I said.“Let me know if you need help with the math.”
Her grunted response was the only reply.
I sighed and headed back toward the front, only to have her call out and stop me.“Hey… I wanted to ask you if you’d thought about it more?”
A moment of blind panic must’ve crossed my face—oh my god, how did she know what I’d been thinking about?—before reality kicked in and I shook my head.“No.Wait, what are you talking about?”
Bethany leaned back in her chair, smirking faintly.“Depends.What did youthinkI was talking about?”
“You go first.”
“Uh uh.Thatoh shitface iswaymore interesting than my homework.Tell me.”
Fuck.She was in full kid sister mode, and I was cornered.Part of me was overjoyed to have her trying to mess with me like this.Seeing a shade of her old self, of the snarky kid lurking under the trauma, made my heart squeeze.But I knew that this was a case of telling her everything (super not happening—not only was she my sister, she was akid)or telling her nothing.At least not until there was something to tell that impacted her directly.Like… me actually dating Leo and having a life outside of the bakery.I leaned against the door and folded my arms over my chest in the worst fake-casual pose ever.“I was just thinking that you haven’t said much about the workshops through the rec center you’ve been going to.How are those?”
Bethany lifted one shoulder in a shrug.“They’re okay.I like the writing ones, but they’re almost over.There’s going to be a poetry series in the spring for like six weeks.It’s only open to high schoolers so I was thinking of signing up.It’s on weekends though.Mr.Abernathy, one of the teachers in charge of the poetry club at school, is running it.”
I nodded.“That’s fine.You’re not obligated to work here—this is my job, not yours.”
She huffed something unintelligible.“Anyway,” she muttered.“There’s also a lecture by Reba Howe, this journalist who works for some magazine here in California but used to work for theNew York Timesand Reuters.”Another shrug, a gesture that told me she really was interested, and it really was a big deal, no matter how cool she tried to play it.“It’s open to anyone and I kinda want to go.She’s presenting on journalism in the digital age and the ethics of freelance reporting.Also, I heard the wildlife center is having another class about insects native to the area in their spring series,” she added.
“And by that you mean you’ve already signed yourself up and were waiting for a good time to ask me to pay for it?”
Another shrug, this one with a tiny, guilty smile.“Maybe.”
And I’d do it, too.A huge part of me felt giddy with relief that she was finding things she was interested in.For a few years, I’d been worried—panicked, really—that she was sinking into a dark place I wouldn’t be able to help her out of.The therapists I’d been able to afford had written it off asjust teenage bluesorsometimes, young ladies get extra moody… do she have a lady in her life to discuss these special times with?
Yeah, the insurance I could afford kind of sucked when it came to mental health care but then again, didn’t they all…
