Page 73 of Out on a Limb
“This is the same temperature it always is.” The thermostat was kept under lock and key. One more thing that had been micromanaged since my grandmother died. “You’ll have to ask Alan if you want it cooler.”
“Alan? Why in the hell would I ask Alan to make it cooler?”
Was he kidding? “Because he’s the one with the key to the box covering the thermostat.”
My granddad was right there when the new rule went into effect. In fact, he was the one who announced it.
The old man turned around and headed back into the public part of the main building, grumbling as he went.
Andrew leaned close. “He was the one who made that rule.”
“I know.”
“Is he losing it?”
I sighed. “Unfortunately, no.” I struggled to admit a truth my grandmother never would. “He’s just manipulative.” It slid free easier than I expected. “Likes to get his way until it makes him look bad.”
I’d watched my grandmother turn a blind eye to it for years and done the same.
Because that’s just what everyone did.
But I was tired of it. Tired of not only accepting his bad behavior, but allowing it to continue.
Letting it breed.
I glanced around the space, looking at the stacks of stuff waiting to be sold in the gift shop that now saw half the number of visitors it got when my grandmother was alive.
The box I wanted was in the back corner, covered in dust as it waited for the shelves to have room for restocking. I pulled the flaps open and grabbed one of the items inside, tossing it up before catching it. Testing the weight.
It was plenty heavy.
“Collette.” Andrew sounded a little cautious.
A little worried.
But I was tired of being cautious. Tired of worrying.
Feeling like I didn’t have any control over my life.
I went straight for the thermostat and the clear plastic cover barricaded around it, continuing to toss the succulent-shaped paperweight as I walked. I stopped about ten feet out and wound up, leaning into it before launching the souvenir right at the plastic protector.
My aim was perfect and the connection was solid. The cover cracked in half as the paperweight bounced away, hitting the floor and rolling a few more feet before coming to a stop.
I yanked the broken plastic off and punched the button, lowering the temperature five degrees to a reasonable seventy-three.
Then I turned to face the gift shop laden with all the stupid shit Alan ordered because it was cheap. I went straight to the shelves and started swiping them clear, knocking the bulk-bought cozies and snow globes to the floor.
Who in the hell bought a snow globe from Florida?
It didn’t make any sense.
“Collette.” Andrew chased after me. “Stop.”
I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to tear down everything my granddad and Alan had fucked up.
Force things back the way they used to be.
I gripped the display of shot glasses with both hands, ready to tip it over.
