Page 12 of Silver Linings
I checked through the maintenance supply room in the basement, found it to be severely lacking in materials, and decided to duck out for some fresh air after my encounter with the enigmatic woman upstairs.
Am I using a supply run as an excuse to get out of the building and touch some grass? Who’s to say?
Get Nailed isn’t what I was expecting when I asked Tony where the closest hardware store was, and I’m starting to suspect he wanted it that way. Typical hardware stores in the city are usually so small, you can hardly move around in them without knocking something over, but this is a mecca in comparison to those tiny neighborhood shops. It’s filled floor to ceiling with anything you could imagine, from screws and hammers to kitchen utensils and dog toys. There is not a square inch of visible wall to be seen.
I’m trying to decide where to start when my mind begins to wander back to this morning. This is not good. Now the woman who made my shoes eternally smell like a coffee shop has a name, and she lives where I work. It was easy to soldier on that day knowing I’d never see her again, but by some hilarious trick of the universe, here she is again, magnetic and effervescent and completely off limits from what Mr. Fairbanks, my new boss, told me the day of my final interview.
No personal relations with the tenants.The statement was leveled at me with the weight of a two-ton anvil, his intent and assumptions of me very clear. Dating is the last thing on my mind, though. I’m just trying to settle into my new life here. I don’t need or want any complications, especially not ones in the form of short blondes with charismatic personalities.
“Can I help you find something?”
I look to my left to see an older woman with lined olive skin, white hair cropped close to her head, wearing an all-denim ensemble, staring at me. She has a name tag that reads Marjorie and a no bullshit look on her face. She looks pointedly between me and the wall, and I realize I’ve just been standing in an aisle staring at four hundred different types of screws for who knows how long.
“Hey, I’m Hendrix,” I extend my hand out to her. “I just started as The Langham’s new maintenance technician.” I try my best to paste on a smile that feels foreign to me now.
“Ah, so you’re the poor schmuck who got saddled with Sal’s job.” It’s a statement, not a question.
Marjorie sizes me up with an inscrutable expression on her face. I’m starting to get a little uncertain about my next move when her eyes start to crinkle at the corners, and a wide smile breaks across her face. She finally clasps my hand firmly and gives it one abrupt shake before letting go.
“Well, kid, I’ll be keeping you in my prayers.”
That’s comforting.
“Oh, I’m just kidding. Well, sort of, but you should’ve seen the look on your face!” She starts to walk away, signaling me with her hand. “I only meant that Sal was here weekly to get materials. That building is going to keep you busy.”
She stops walking in the front of the store by the door.
“I’m going to give you a quick tour of the shop, so keep your wits about you, because this place will get you more twisted than a bowline knot. I once found a guy in the cleaning products section clutching a Scrub Daddy, rocking in the fetal position, because he couldn’t find his way out.” She throws her head back and guffaws. “He said he’d been walking around for forty-five minutes and couldn’t get out. Dave’s a bit of a legend here now. He’s never come back, though.”
I’m shocked into silence.
“Was his name really Dave?” I ask, only half believing her tale.
She waves her hand through the air, as if she’s swatting at a gnat. “Oh, who knows! Now, pay attention to the tour so you don’t meet the same fate as Scrub Daddy Dave.”
I follow. “Wouldn’t dream of becoming a story of hardware lore to future customers. Hacksaw Hendrix just doesn’t have the same emotional impact.”
That earns me a snort as she motions me throughout the store that it is, in fact, a labyrinth of products stacked and hung all over aisles so narrow that I have to angle my body so my shoulders don’t knock things over. At one point, I even see trail mix, so if I do ever get lost, at least I won’t immediately starve.
She stops abruptly once we’re towards the back of the store, and the sudden shift in movement has me smacking my head against a pack of gloves hanging low off the top shelf.
“So what is it that you need today?” Marjorie has a unique talent of looking down at me even though she’s lookingupat me.
“A few things. One of the tenants,” a tenant who smells like apricots and—stop,I can’t go there and don’t deserve to, “has pretty extensive water damage on her ceiling. I’ll need drywall, a putty knife, compound, drywall screws, and joint tape. Probably new pipes too once I get in there and figure out which joints need replacing.”
Marjorie whistles. “What an inauguration to the position.”
She walks me through the store, helping me grab all the materials except for the sheets of drywall, which she promises to have delivered to the building for me in the next few days. As we head over to the register to check out the other supplies, my mind lures itself back to Silver.
That’s going to be inconvenient.
When I ran into her the first time on the street, I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. I just stood there like an idiot. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I almost thought she wasn’t real, that she was a mirage conjured straight from the depths of my fantasies—hair like sheets of pale spun silk, eyes the most unique shade of pale green that verged on blue, and full pink lips that looked as soft as clouds.
Seeing her today was a shock to my system. Suddenly, there she was, in averysmall towel, glowing with pink flushed skin, water dropping down her golden skin and smelling fresh and sweet. Ihadn’tmade her up in my mind, and she was even more beautiful the second time around, standing in the doorway of a home that somehowfeltlike her, bright, light and bursting with color.
Like red lace–no. Not going there.
She was off limits, which was for the best anyway. With the state of my head these days, it’s not like I’m in any sort of position to date.
