Page 32 of Medium
Shane’s phone rang, and he groaned.
Ellis said, “Tell me that isn’t your fucking boss again.”
Shane shook his head and set the carton of eggs on thecounter before answering the phone. “Ricky, it’s my day off, remember? I’ll be back tomorrow.”
I couldn’t hear exactly what the man on the other end of the call was saying, but it had a realmy-way-or-the-highwaytone to it.
Shane put his hand over his eyes. “Fine, fine. I’ll call him. Text me the number.”
He hung up as his phone pinged with a text.
“What’s the matter now?” Ellis’ expression was grim.
“Ricky tried to do a landscape design on his own, and the client threatened to hire another company.”
“Can you at least eat before you call them? You didn’t get much sleep.”
Shane sighed. “No. I won’t be able to relax until I deal with this.”
Ellis shook his head. “I can’t believe they won’t pay you for working on your day off.”
We listened as Shane placated the client and promised them a new design as soon as he returned to work on Thursday. He must be some hotshot landscape architect or something.
Ellis put plates of biscuits in front of me and Ms. Jackson. “This’ll help tide you over while we wait for Shane to finish his call. Rory, would you mind putting butter and jelly on Ms. Jackson’s biscuit? I’ll bring it over in a second.”
“Sure, no problem.”
He brought out a stick of butter on a plate with a butter knife, then jars of jelly and marmalade with individual serving spoons for each.
He went back to the kitchen, and I turned to Ms. Jackson. “What would you like on your biscuit?”
The letters sparkled on the Ouija board.I-L-I-K-E-B-U-T-T-E-R-A-N-D-I-W-A-N-T-T-O-T-R-Y-B-L-U-E-B-E-R-R-Y-J-A-M
“Got it.” My stomach growled. I hoped there were more biscuits.
I got Ms. Jackson’s biscuit ready. As soon as I put their plate back in front of them, they ate the whole thing in one bite.
A moment later I decided I couldn’t throw stones at their table manners since I ate my biscuit in only a couple of bites myself.
My phone chimed.
Manny
You dog, you hooked up with Shane Costa? He’s my old client’s grandson! I haven’t seen him since then, but he was hot as fuck. BTW I’m outside
I hadn’t even finished reading the text when the doorbell rang.
“Sorry, that’s for me,” I said, pushing my chair back.
Before I could stand, Ms. Jackson got up and loped toward the front door.
“Shit!” I raced after them, but I wasn’t very fast in my socked feet. Ellis and Shane came out of the kitchen and followed, but none of us would make it in time.
Like a slow-motion nightmare, Ms. Jackson put their huge paw on the door handle and somehow opened it.
“No! Manny, they’re friendly!”
Manny’s face changed from a grin to a shocked “O” in an instant. He threw the Trader Joe’s bag he was carrying at Ms. Jackson’s head and darted to the side. Ms. Jackson ducked to avoid the bag then leaped forward.
