5
Aspen
Shit. I need a new dress. A nice one, too. I check my credit card balance on my phone and cringe. Oh well, I’ll figure something out. Even though I need to keep saving money for the hotel, I also know we’ll be a raging success, so what’s a little more credit card debt? Right?
My good taste sometimes gets the better of me. My credit card statement is proof. For better or worse, this habit was fostered by my mom. And Popster, now that I think about it, with his motto: Buying quality saves money in the long run…
Which is one reason I’m better off being busy. So I don’t buy things. I’m disciplined most of the time, but after working a ninety-hour week, I just sometimes feel that—dammit—I deserve a reward, and I borrow from my future self.
So, sometimes I spend more than I should. But it’s on my longest days that I feel life is the shortest, and a little retail therapy perks me up like a shot of espresso. This situation is different, however. I need a new dress for the upcoming Chamber of Commerce Charity Silent Auction in two weeks. It’s a swanky event for local businesses. It’s important; Mom and I are going to hobnob to raise awareness about our up-and-coming bed-and-breakfast, The Rose. While I’m at it, maybe I’ll get another couple restaurant clients for my pies, to pay for the dress.
The day is finally winding down, and it’s time to close the restaurant. Popster is helping by wiping down the tables. He’s whistling a tune from the ‘50s—Rock Around the Clock—and he’s wearing one of my leopard aprons, which cracks me up.
I go over to him. I just have to hug him.
“Hey there, girlie,” he says and hugs me back.
“I love you, Popster.”
“I know you do. I love you, too. And don’t ask how many I had today!” he says and scruffs the top of my head when I let him go. I should probably give up the project of getting him to stop smoking, but I just can’t.
“Exciting times ahead, eh?” he says.
“Yes!” I reply and dance on my tiptoes all the way to the counter to start closing out the cash register. Thinking about my future makes me feel light and airy, and I laugh out loud. And feeling unstoppable like this, a new idea hits me! Maybe it’s time to revamp my dream. Maybe I should set my sights on not just one bed-and-breakfast, but a whole chain of them! As I let the idea take root in my mind, I take off my apron and wash my hands, and a fresh jolt of excitement shimmies through me.
Popster is throwing away his newspaper and pile of toothpicks from the day as I’m about to take the trash out to the back dumpster. I stop to scrape a few more scraps from dirty plates into the bag, when Mom’s phone rings. She answers it, and as I’m tying up the garbage bag, I hear her voice turn concerned as she says, “Oh no. That is too bad. Oh my goodness.” My spine stiffens, and not from lifting the heavy garbage bag. She continues, “Shit. What? Really? Shit! Are you sure? No. OK. Thanks for calling. Goodbye.”
Uh-oh, that didn’t sound good. I chew on the inside of my cheek. What the hell was that call about? I walk over to her as she finishes the call. She sees me staring at her from across the kitchen and slowly walks toward me. “Aspen, honey? Let’s have a seat. We need to talk.”
Popster overhears and gestures us to his table. We walk over, and it feels like a year passes in the nine steps it takes to get to the booth.
“I have terrible news,” Mom says as we sit down.
This can only mean one thing. I close my eyes and brace myself, waiting for the axe to fall. She reaches her hands across the table to mine, and I look at her. “I’m sorry, Aspen. Robert pulled out.”
There’s the axe.
And there goes my head, rolling across the floor.
I close my eyes again, and I try to take a deep breath, but I can only grasp at shallow ones. No. This can’t be happening. Please, no.
But it is. I open my eyes and let loose, “FUCK! FUCK! FUUUUUUUCK!” I pound my fists down on the table, and my eyes fill with tears.
“Did he say why?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “He says he just found out he owes a bunch of back taxes for some business he sold a couple years ago. He said it completely blindsided him, and he apologized profusely. It was nothing you or I did wrong… he just doesn’t have the cash.”
“Fuck,” I whisper and hang my head down, blinking back the tears. I’m not going to cry. I look at Mom and Popster sitting across from me. Their eyes are full of sorrow, and that unleashes the tears. I feel like I’ve somehow let them down, too.
This whole plan is meaningful to Mom, but that’s just because it was something we would do together. But it was going to be my project, while she focused on the bistro. She was just coming along with me for the ride, and to lend support.
She knows I’m determined to be independent, free of the painful chains she lived with for so many years. She doesn’t ever want me to endure what she had to suffer, depending on a man for her survival, and the bistro doesn’t bring in enough money to provide long-term security for both of us.
And now, all of our hopes and dreams just came crashing down, like pulling the wrong piece from a Jenga tower.
“Square fucking one,” I say, my shoulders slumping.
Mom pats
