Page 28 of Afternoon Delight

Meg

The day passed in convivial spirits. Two of Negasi’s coworkers showed up—one looking performance-ready in a gingham dress and wig, the other hungover, wearing stubble, a faded T-shirt, and sweatpants.

“Bitch, you know I’m on a diet,” the hungover one griped as he stuffed a Long John in his face.

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.”

“News flash, I think you’re living her life.”

I smiled weakly. Wistfully. Pretty soon, Georgia would return to her great life. I wanted her to. I was glad I was helping her hang onto her dream, but it was her dream, not mine.

“I mean that her life is intentional. I know this didn’t just happen for her.

It took her time to figure out what she wanted and pull it all together.

” I thought of Negasi noodling options. It was never easy to make a big change.

“But that’s what I envy. I want a clear vision and then to be where she is, without all the bullshit of working for it.

” I wouldn’t even start assembling my new life until I got back to Toronto.

“You want an effortless happy ending?” he teased. “I think I bankrolled something to help with that.”

I scolded him with a look and glanced for Roddie. He was politely allowing Dale to run his magician-wardrobe routine on him.

“Is there a reason you’re not letting me wallow in melancholy?” I asked Zak.

“I don’t want you to get any on me.”

I refused to laugh, but our gazes locked. I let him see my exasperation, but intertwined with it was that tingling sexual awareness that liked to dance and sparkle between us. His expression softened.

“Here’s what I think. If I’m full of shit, say so.

It’s just my impression, but I think you like to feel needed.

You came home to help your mom, and you listen to my BS, and you wanted to help your friend by running her store.

Now that you know she’s going to get better, you’re starting to think she won’t need you, and that bums you out. ”

“I had my first kid at eighteen. Of course I need to feel needed to feel valued.” I curled my lip with self-disgust. “When Roddie went to live with Joel, I plummeted into an identity crisis.” And ran straight home to mother.

Dutiful daughter was the only other role I knew.

“Sure, he’s with me now, but this isn’t our home.

I have to go back to Toronto and pick up the pieces.

What will my life look like when I get there?

What do I want it to look like? That’s what I’m saying.

How do I get there without all the growing pains? ”

“Oh. Yeah, I can’t help you with that,” he said, shoving his hands into his back pockets and turning his attention to his father. “I thought I knew what I wanted, but that was programming.”

“Clever.”

“I thought so. Hey, Dad? Meg wants to take Roddie home.”

“The draper’s rod? I sold it.”

Zak gathered his patience with a long inhale. “Sounds like I get to play a round of Who’s on First. Have a good night. Enjoy your wine.”

“Thanks.” I wanted to hug him for no reason. For all the reasons. Because he made me feel lighter, brought coffee for strangers, and faced his own life crisis with philosophical humor.

“Can I have the keys?” Roddie asked, approaching me.

“I’ll open the car, but I need them to lock up.” I gave Zak a final wave. “See you tomorrow.”

“Sure will,” he assured me.