Page 22 of Afternoon Delight
“Thanks, Mom.”
“No problem.” I forced some lightness into my voice. “Anything else going on? Have you talked to Shelby?”
She and I texted constantly—mostly memes and rants about the patriarchy—but despite the seven-year age gap, she and Roddie were still remarkably close.
“She’s seeing someone called Weston. I said it sounds like she’s dating a refrigerator.”
“And she said little brothers are awesome and she misses you?”
“Pretty much. I’ll tell her I’m coming to see you. Maybe she can come see us.”
“That’d be nice. I’ll look at flights for her, too.” God, I wanted my arms around my kids right now.
“Okay. I’ll go tell Dad.”
“I’ll go tell Grandma that we have to clean up the rumpus room.”
“That bed.” My kids had been sleeping on that pull-out since they were little. There was an infamous bar that dug into the sleeper’s back, which had grown worse as they grew bigger and heavier and the mattress grew older and saggier.
“I’ll buy a foamy tomorrow. I’m really glad you’re coming. I’ll text you the details in a little while.”
“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Rod.” I was smiling as I ended the call.
It faded as I realized I’d have to ‘fess up about my career change sooner than I’d expected.
Chapter 11
Meg
The days leading up to Valentine’s Day were busy with a steady stream of walk-ins and several online orders. I stayed late to fill them, glad to see Georgia’s sales get a small bump.
After reviewing her sales from the few weeks she had been in business, I set some targets for myself. My low-bar goal was to match her average weekly sales, even with the “five dollars or five percent off” coupons I was handing out. If I could do that, I’d cover the rent, my modest wages, and the amount I’d budgeted for the relaunch.
I wouldn’t have been able to make the party nearly as splashy without the full force of Vickie Crutcher behind it. Along with her keen eye for stylish arrangements, she brought a few vintage pieces from the Ladies Auxiliary that set a tone of elegance. One was a cocktail dress with a green velvet bodice and black polka-dot netting over a green satin skirt. She also brought colorful bow ties, a burgundy fedora, a gorgeous red cape, and a black mini dress that laced down the back like a corset. These were all strategically hung around the shop to define spaces and add flair.
Between the social media posts and the newspaper ad, people were coming in steadily—a blessing and a curse. While Mom pinned a Phantom of the Opera poster to the wall, I did my best to help a customer.
“Is it waterproof?” the young man asked.
“Um, yes.” I pointed to the blue teardrop I’d added to the price tag on every item I’d identified as waterproof.
“Good. She said she wanted the waterproof one. And this one’s okay for, like, front and back? ’Cause it says ‘anal’ here.”
“That’s how it’s marketed but—” I cleared my throat and pointed. “See, it says it can also be used vaginally. Just be sure to clean it well between uses. Obviously.”
“Right. Is this the only one you have?”
“This one’s a different brand. It’s not purple.” I picked up the box. “It’s also more expensive.”
“That’s the one she wanted.” He practically snatched it out of my hand. “Yeah, with ten speed combos. This is the one.” He sounded really excited—not so much sexually, more like a prospector who’d struck gold. Eureka. He was grinning from ear to ear. It was cute.
I grabbed the tablet and ran his credit card, then wrapped the box in tissue paper and slipped it into one of the bags discreetly embossed with a graceful AD.
“Let me give you one of these coupons.” I showed him before adding it to the bag. “We’ll be handing out more at the relaunch in a few days. The details are on the back. I’ve got more stock coming in for that, so I hope you’ll drop by with your partner.”
He left, and Mom said, “You should ask if they need batteries and have some on hand.”
