“Hey, girl!” In baby talk, “I miss oo.”
“I miss you, too.”
“What have you been up to?”
“Just taking care of some family stuff. A friend of the family died, and her son is taking it pretty hard.” I was being intentionally vague, but with enough information to hopefully keep her from prying.
“Oh, that’s so sad.” Did she always sound like a bad pre-school teacher?
“Yeah, it is. So what’s up?”
“I wanted to wish you a happy Valentine’s Day. You know, I still think about you all the time.”
“I don’t want to hash that out again, Ton-Ton. I think we’re better off apart. Aren’t you happier now with Rex, or whatever his name is?”
“He’s okay, beebs, but he’s no snuggle-bunny buddy.” Oh, god, what did I ever see in her?
“I should probably go. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Are you going to stay there forever, or are you coming back? I bet your dad’s place sells the second you put it on the market.”
“Huh? I never mentioned my dad’s place to you.”
“Well, no, I think Kelly said something.”
Kelly was one of the friends I had texted. I was beginning to suspect that Ton-Ton thought I had money. I wanted to tell her she was barking up the wrong tree, that I was so broke I was joyous just to get some snacks and a soda as a treat. That she should crawl into a hole and die, like I wanted to do. But I didn’t.
“I gotta go.”
“Talk soon.”
Now it was my turn to hang up on someone. Click.
I wanted to scream. Instead, I cried, angry that I hadn’t told Ton-Ton off. I think I scared little Frodo, but he hopped up on the couch, anyway, and licked my face.
“At least you like me for me,” I told him. He tilted his head, then licked me again. Then he curled himself up and laid his head on my lap. At least he can’t call me a snuggle-bunny buddy.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Frodo.”
February 21, 2013
Emmett Public Library is bigger than you would expect. When you first walk in, there is a vestibule with books and magazines for sale or donation. I found a book on programming (an old edition of Code Complete) and, oddly enough, a copy of a Manga novel I used to read, Death Note. The rest of the building is divided up into several sections for kids’ books, fiction, non-fiction, desks, and computers. The tour ends with a sitting area full of overstuffed couches and chairs. There is an overall homey feeling to it. I bet a lot of cookbooks have been written here.
I have learned to get here early and do the things that take a lot of concentration before the kids show up after school. I’ve worked in a lot of busy restaurants and coffee shops, but ten-year-olds playing pew-pew games, all breathy and excited after being penned up all day, is just not conducive to quality work.
Today, before the kids even had a crack at me, I had to listen to a couple of brain dead morons go on and on about Obama being the ruination of America. I had almost tuned them out completely when I noticed one of them looking at pictures of Michele and saying nasty comments, calling her an animal. I’m not very political, but I almost lost it. Fortunately, Jodie was nearby and caught my attention. I saved my work and met her in the front.
“Did you hear what he was saying?!”
“Yes, I did.”
“How do you put up with that?”
“I don’t know. As long as they aren’t loud, we can’t really do anything.”
“Is that what people are like around here?”
“No. Well, there are a lot of people like that. Some don’t know any better; they’re usually older and just believe what they hear on talk radio.” She leaned towards me. “Others, like those brain trusts, are just assholes that don’t know which way to wipe.”
I let out a loud “Bah-ha,” surprising even me.
“Shhh.”
“Well, aren’t you the librarian?”
“Ha-ha. How’s Elliot?”
“Doing a little better. He’s back out at the farm about every other day.”
“Oh, good. Hey, don’t you have dogs to take care of?”
“Yeah, Frodo’s actually in the car.”
“Oh, I wanna see him.”
She followed me out to the car and Frodo danced around in the seat, happy to see both of us. I got in and rolled down the window, and Frodo hopped in my lap and lay over the door sill. Jodie scratched him behind the ears, grabbed his paws, and stood him up. He did not seem to mind.
“Hello, Mr. Frodo,” she said in a baby voice. I had fleeting flashbacks of Ton-Ton. Then to me in a normal tone, she said, “You want to help me exercise the horses on Saturday?”
“I have not really ridden much. Or should I say, at all.”
“No problem, they’re very gentle.”
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
“Early, early?”
“Actually, I can’t get over there until the afternoon. Would that be okay? I could bring some lunch with me.”
I thought about two nanoseconds on it. “Okay.”
She stopped dancing Frodo around by his front paws, kissed him on the nose, and put him down. “Got to go. See you here tomorrow.” She booped Frodo on the nose for punctuation.
“See you.”
February 22, 2013
It sleeted and snowed last night, so we had a mushy mess to clean out of the driveway and out to the gates. Dad does have a small tractor, nothing fancy. It has a big box attached to it to move stuff, and it was a lot of fun smushing the snow around with it.
