Page 47 of Afternoon Delight
Some customers came in, so I rose to help them. One asked me to order a mini-vibrator that resembled a bullet casing and could be worn as a pendant on a necklace. The other wanted a strapless strap-on. Domino helped me advise on which was best for vulva to anal play.
While all that was going on, Bruno swiveled his chair, stuck his feet in the swing, crossed his arms, and checked out for an hour. I made my sales, then filled some online orders while the group continued chatting.
At one point, Zak texted to ask if we needed anything. That prompted a couple of people to rise and go next door to browse his store. Domino came back with something that looked like a well-used walking cane.
“It’s a draper’s yardstick for measuring fabric. See the brass ends? That’s proof of calibration to show it hasn’t been shortened. After they measured the fabric, they would roll it around this stick, then pull it, fold it into a bundle, and wrap it in paper so the customer could take it home.”
“You knew what it was when you saw it?” I asked, surprised.
“Hell, no. The older guy in there ought to be working a used car lot, he has such a smooth patter. But I have a client who will piss his boots when I threaten him with this—in a good way. He loves it,” Domino added in an aside.
When everyone started talking about lunch, Negasi’s coworkers were dispatched to Nooners. They returned with baby sliders, onion rings, flatbreads, and cups of tangy coleslaw.
“Tell Zak to come get some for him and his dad,” Negasi urged me.
I texted him, then sent a photo of our little party to Gail.
Georgia has the best friends.
Gail tagged the image with a heart and reported back:
Gail:
The nurse says it’s going well.
Maybe another hour.
I shared that as Zak walked in. He took one look at the food and said, “You know the microbrewery has mix-and-match six-packs, right?”
We all froze, then slid our gazes to each other, reaching for our wallets. We threw cash into a pot that Bruno took across the street. He came back with ales, pilsners, and a cloudy IPA that I really liked.
Finally, just after I spotted Roddie walking by the window toward the antique store, Gail texted again.
“Georgia is in recovery,” I read aloud. “The surgeon is really happy with how it went. Sedation should wear off by morning. They’ll know more over the next few days.”
We all cheered and sighed in relief, tapping the last of our bottles of beer.
People trickled out afterward. Bruno took his chairs home. Negasi and his friends left for work. Mahathi offered to help me clean up, but I shooed her out and texted Roddie to help me take the furniture back to Twice Is Nice.
When I came in with a chair, Zak looked up from tightening some hardware on a cabinet. He gave me a compassionate look that made my toes curl.
“How’s Georgia?”
“In recovery. Now it’s healing and physio. Hopefully that goes well, too. Hey, buddy?” I looked toward Roddie, who was helping Dale place a doily and a tray of glasses onto the coffee table we’d used. “I’m going to close a few minutes early. Do you want to get your stuff and meet me outside?”
He nodded and headed toward the back of the shop.
“You okay?” Zak asked, with a frown of concern.
“Just talked out.” I felt as though I was suspended in gelatin. “I spent the day pretending I wasn’t bracing for bad news. Now my adrenaline has drained away, and I want to be home on the couch with a glass of wine and garbage television.”
“Perfect evening. They seemed like a fun bunch.” He tilted his head toward our common wall.
“They are. I’m envious of Georgia.” I faltered slightly, realizing how revealing that sounded. “Not just because she surrounds herself with great people and gives no time to those who don’t deserve it. I’m part of her circle, so obviously I’m doing something right.” I splayed a hand on my chest.
“Obviously,” he echoed with amusement.
“But she’s built the kind of life I want.”
