Page 10 of Unexpected Pickle
He’s funny, even if he’s trying to stir the wrong pot. I will not resume dating while I’m contemplating my next career move, and certainly not someone who has women at his beck and call. I have too much to figure out to add that complication to the mix.
“Hello,” I say to the man in my default, possibly too-dark tone, then remember I should try to be friendly. “Welcome!”
“Good to see you again, Jeannie,” he says. “I’m Jasper. I take all your classes.”
“Of course, Jasper! I remember!” Too bright. Overdid it. His eyes light up like he thinks I’m interested, even though he’s seventy if he’s a day.
I’m not good at this. Never was. Which is why teaching is helpful. I can be nice and practice not scaring children.
And one is entering right now.
My entire body tenses. This is an adult class.
“Are you lost?” I ask the woman who shoos her barely school-aged daughter into the room. “This is crepe making for adults.”
The woman flashes a bright smile. “Yes, I’m signed up. Sonya Wright. This is Sunshine.”
Sunshine. Of course, she named her ankle biter after the natural world. “But this is an adult class,” I say again.
“Sunshine won’t cause any trouble. She’s a real angel.”
The child, as if to instantly prove her mother a complete liar, begins emptying the carefully pre-measured bowls of salt and flour onto the table.
“No!” I shout and rush forward.
“Don’t yell at Sunshine,” Sonya says. “You’ll traumatize her.”
“I’ll have to fix this station,” I say, righting the bowls.
“We’ll take this one down here.” Sonya directs her child to the next griddle.
“But someone needs this one!” I quickly slide the spilled flour and salt off the counter into a compost pot. The station isn’t sanitary. The child touched the bowls with her dirty hands.
This is why I teach adults.
“Sunshine, you need to make better choices.” Sonya kisses the unruly hair of her demon spawn.
I can’t deal with her at the moment. I need clean bowls, more flour and salt, and my disinfectant.
More students come in, and I can’t even greet them like I want. I have to deal with this emergency.
Sunshine picks up an egg and tosses it into the bowl.
My anger rises. “You’ll have shells in your batter.”
The mom picks up her bag as if to move again. “We’ll move?—”
I’m perilously close to snapping. “Stay right there. That is your station.” There’s that dark tone again.
“Oh!” the mom says. “I won’t be giving this class a very good review!”
I want to tell her she’s welcome to rate it as one star and leave, but then I have a new problem.
Hex has walked in.
Why is he here? This is a big distraction.
I set the compost pot back in place and rush to the supply cabinet to fetch more supplies and a cleaner.
