Two months later
“YOUR WORK HISTORY is flawless. Your letter of recommendation from your previous employer is very impressive,” Roxanne, the store manager says, looking down through her tiny-lensed readers at my application before glancing up at me over the rims. “But, darlin’, you have a bachelors in chemical engineering. Why in the world do you want to work in my little shop? You’re completely overqualified.”
My shoulders slump. But at least she’s asking me this now, instead of telling me in an e-mail denying me employment, like the other sixteen interviews I’ve been to in the past seven weeks.
“With all due respect, at this point, I will take anything I can get,” I answer honestly.
She pulls off her glasses, folding her arms on top of her desk. The middle-aged woman has an almost motherly air about her. Her frizzy blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail away from her face. She would have been gorgeous in her prime. Her voice is kind. “Surely there is something better fitting for you, honey. I can only imagine the amount of work you had to put in to get that kind of degree. There must be—”
I can’t hold it in any longer. And for the first time since we left California, I spill everything that’s been circling inside my head, unable to confide in anyone. “My sister and I moved here for a fresh start. Halfway across the US, we googled a map of the country, closed our eyes, and where her finger landed, that’s where we were going. I’m always the planner. When I was young, I would make an itinerary for every minute of our family vacations. To this day, I literally pencil in time to eat and sleep. She made me promise that this time, there would be no planning. No scheduling. We would leave it all up to fate. And this is where fate put us. Little did we know we would be planting ourselves in a small town outside a military base with nothing around but a shopping mall, tattoo shops, restaurants, movie theaters, and your… unique establishment. There is… absolutely nothing… for a chemical engineer. And by now, trying to find anywhere to work, our savings are almost completely gone.”
I look at her pleadingly. She looks back at me with indecision.
“Please,” I beg, before I realize the word was spoken aloud instead of just on repeat inside my mind.
I hold my breath.
Finally, she speaks. “The job pays ten dollars an hour plus commission. We’re open from 10:00 a.m. to midnight Monday through Saturday and noon to six on Sundays. You split a schedule with my other girl, Ali. She works tonight at seven, so you can come figure out who gets which shift then.”
I can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. “Oh my gosh. Thank you so much. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“Oh, I know I won’t, darlin’. You’re obviously a hard worker. I just hope you won’t,” she tells me, and I nod, standing from the chair across from her desk as she does the same. “See you at seven.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
I hurry out of the office, avoiding looking at the items on the shelves as I make my way to the glass door, hearing the bell jingle as I head to my car. As I pull open my driver side door, I glance over my shoulder at my new workplace, feeling a rush of excitement to get home to Astrid to tell her the good news.
“You are looking at the newest sales associate at Toys for Twats!”
Astrid, midsip, chokes on her coffee, setting her mug down on the thrift shop dining table as she covers her mouth with her hand. I wait for her to hack and dribble down her front before her coughing turns into laughter. My eyebrow rises as I cross my arms over my chest and cock a hip.
“My sister, one of the rising stars at a multi-million-dollar company that makes all-natural cleaning solutions, is now the sales associate of a sex shop?” Through her laughter, I see tears fill her eyes, but as her face slowly melts, I see they aren’t happy ones, and my arms fall to my sides, all haughtiness dissolved. “I’ve ruined your life.”
I rush forward and pull her to her feet, placing my palms against her now wet cheeks. I force her to meet my eyes, thankful the nasty bruise is finally gone from around her beautiful blue ones. “You did not ruin my life. You are my life, sis. You’re worth everything.” It’s a mantra I repeat to her several times a day, the only thing I can think to do myself to help undo the emotional abuse her monster of an ex put her through for years.
“And as you’re out busting your ass, trying to find anything to help us make ends meet, I’m the useless piece of shit sitting here doing absolutely nothing,” she whimpers, and it makes me hate Brandon even more. My big sister, the beautiful, popular, extremely talented contemporary dancer back in high school, who I always looked up to and who always loved and included me, has been beaten down to a shell of the powerhouse she used to be.
“That’s not true, Astrid. You’re bringing in enough to pay for our groceries with your online makeup sales. You’re putting food on the table. It was my idea for you not to go out and try to find a job. To keep you hidden as much as possible,” I remind her.
“But how long until I have to shut that down? What if he finds out that I lied to my group followers? That Roberta Card isn’t someone I recommended to them because I was quitting my makeup consulting and that it’s actually still me? He could track me down!” The look of panic in her eyes makes me see red. “And if I do anything else, it’s not like there are a million Astrid Quills in the world. A quick Google search and bam! He’d be here.” She starts to tremble, so I force her to sit back down in her seat.
“He’s not going to find you. We’ve got your stuff on lockdown. You’ve completely fallen off the grid. We’re using all my information and accounts for everything. And it’s not like he could know you’re with me. I lived on the other side of the state. He never knew where I worked or anything, so he wouldn’t be able to find out I’ve quit my job there and left with you if he doesn’t know where to check,” I assure her.
She sniffles and leans forward to wrap her arms around my waist from her seated position, resting her head on my stomach as she squeezes me. “All those times I picked on you for never having a boyfriend, for always burying yourself in your school work. And here, it’s my saving grace that he won’t have anyone to track you through. I’m sorry I always gave you shit for not taking the time to make friends, Twy.”
“All I need is you.” I stoop down in front of her and look up into her liquidy eyes. “And now with this fresh start, with my… interesting new job, maybe I’ll finally take the time to do all that, yeah?”
She wipes her nose with the back of her shirtsleeve. “Yep. You promised. After you got all this set up for us, there’s no more planning. We’re living day by day from here on out.”
“Exactly.” I squeeze her knees. “Which means you, big sis, have to start putting the past behind you.”
She nods, wipes away her tears, and puts in place her brave face. And then she looks at me oddly. “Um, Twy?”
“Yeah?” I tilt my head to the side.
“You know how I got into makeup consultation because, well, I know a lot about it and am really good at it?” she asks.
I squint, not knowing where this is going. “Yeeeah.”
“Well… umm….” She starts to giggle. “How are you supposed to convincingly sell people naughty sex toys… when you’re a virgin?”