Page 55 of Afternoon Delight

Meg

Between Georgia and her new hire, I only worked on and off the following week. Mostly off, which gave me time to finish up at Mom’s and hang around the antique shop with Zak.

I’d never really paid attention to his woodworking projects before. Sometimes I’d heard him banging around in the back, or caught a whiff of paint stripper, but now I perched on the rickety stool and watched him sand, fiddle with a drawer pull, or repair decorative molding on a shelf.

Zak relaxed back here because Dale was comfortable in the store and loved to busy himself with rearranging things to “give them more appeal.” In here, Dale rolled with the inconsistencies because it felt like everything stayed the same.

“Did you sell the model train set?” Dale popped his head in to ask.

“Last week,” Zak said.

“Candace,” Dale said, assigning me yet another random name—usually one of Zara’s friends from high school. “You’ve changed your hair.”

“This is Meg, Dad. You’ve met her a few times. She’s been working at the shop next door, the one that took over from Debra.”

“The toy store. Right.” He tapped his nose. “Got that one mixed up, didn’t I?” He seemed to be having a good day. “What’d you get for the train set?”

“Not much. They were cheapskates.”

“Typical. I’m going to move the clocks onto that table.”

“Sounds good.” Zak leaned to watch him as he retreated.

The bells on the front door were loud, and Kyle had installed a second chime that rang in the back room.

Whenever Zak heard it, he’d hurry out to make sure his father wasn’t leaving the store.

If customers had come in, he checked on them, letting his dad run some of his patter if they seemed patient enough for it.

“How much do you actually sell?” I asked.

“What do you mean? The train set? That was bullshit. It’s been gone for years.” Zak returned to his sanding block. “Zara hates that I lie and say Mom’s at an estate sale or whatever, but I don’t see the point in upsetting him.”

“I meant the actual business. Is it profitable?”

“Hell, no. But we own the building. The rentals upstairs and the shop next door give us enough to keep the lights on. Why? You want to work your magic here, now that Georgia’s fired you? We don’t actually care whether it turns a profit. It’s a day camp for Dad that we don’t have to pay for.”

Zak was paying in time, though. And in ways no one else saw. These were his top earning years. That didn’t even touch the emotional toll this was taking on him.

“I was just being nosy, wondering how many people actually buy antiques.”

“Fewer and fewer as the baby boomers die off. Millennials don’t have the same nostalgia for old crap like this.

Ironically, we’ve been selling a lot online.

Roddie’s been adding photos to our website, so we’re moving stuff that way, but shipping is a pain in the ass.

I prefer when people wander in and throw whatever they buy into the back of their car. ”

“You like this, though?” I nodded toward the short bookshelf he was sanding, prepping it for re-staining. “Woodworking?”

“It’s something to do while I keep an eye on Dad.” He paused and straightened. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I just worry that you’ve got a lot to deal with?—”

“I do,” he agreed curtly. “So what? It’s my problem to work through, not yours.”

I blinked. “I’m not trying to pick a fight.”

“I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the situation. I’m mad that you’re leaving in three days. Not because I want you to stay here and fix my life. I’m not your son, Meg. You don’t have to solve my problems for me. I’m an adult. I’ll figure it out.”

He wasn’t yelling, or even being mean, but his words landed like lawn darts in my chest.

“I just worry you don’t have enough emotional support,” I said defensively.

“You know you’re not my only friend, right?”

“Wow.” I glared at him.

“I’m not trying to be an asshole.”

“Apparently you don’t have to try .”

“I’m saying you should go do the thing you keep telling me you need to do. Go fix your life. Quit worrying about mine.”

“It feels like you’re throwing rocks to make me go. I don’t want to end on bad terms, Zak.”

“We’re not ending , Meg. I’m going to text you stupid shit until you block me.

When you come back in September, I’m going to help you move your mom and hopefully fuck your brains out at least once.

I love you . I wasn’t going to say it because it sounds like I’m only saying it to keep you here, but I do.

Now you know. So go figure out what that does for you. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He bent over the sanding block, putting his weight into it while I sat there with my lip quivering.

I loved him, too. And if I said it, if I made it real, then I really would stay.

“Zak?” Dale called out. “Did you sell the model train set?”

“Last week, yeah,” Zak called back.

“Did you get a good price?”

“Sure did.”

“That’s good. I’m going to put the clocks on this table.”

“Let me know if you want help.”

He looked at me and probably saw that my eyes were too bright. Maybe his were, too. I couldn’t see very well anymore.

“Can you just go for now?” he asked, his voice thick.

I swallowed the ache in my throat and nodded, slipping off the stool and out the back way. I knocked on Georgia’s shop door until she let me in. Then I cried on her shoulder.

I didn’t see Zak again until I was leaving. Roddie and I stopped by the shop to say goodbye. It was short. It was painful.

Zak promised to text, but I wasn’t convinced he would.