Chapter One: Maisie
I was okay with being the villain in his story.
At least, that was what I was trying to convince myself as I stared out the windshield of my car. My late-night trip to the store was successful. Moose Tracks, my favorite ice cream. It had always made those rough nights better. Especially after these last couple months.
A notification from my phone caught my attention, and I was faced with the reality of exactly how late it was.
1:37am.
I groaned internally, banging my head on the steering wheel. I really needed to stop making a habit of this: staying up way too late and driving around aimlessly until I was tired enough to head home and sleep.
After months of ups and downs; moving back home, blocking then unblocking of a certain individual’s contact information, countless tear-filled nights, and just losing my job at the coffee shop; I was finally starting to be in a better place mentally.
Or that’s what I told myself until I was in moments like this.
I thought I was doing better.
But was this better?
Sitting in my car at one in the morning?
I wasn’t sure.
I turned my attention away from my phone as I put my car into drive to head home.
The April air in Michigan was a coin toss of how warm or chilly it could be. That night was chilly from the earlier rain, but it was perfect. Just cold enough for a light jacket and jeans; the type of weather I loved the most. Though, I couldn’t wait to get back to the house. I could finally cuddle up on the couch with my ice cream to continue watching Mork & Mindy. It had been a while since I had time to watch it, so it was perfect for my evening binge.
The roads were slick from the rain, but nothing my SUV couldn’t handle. I easily made my way out of the small city and into the endless farmlands and dirt roads of the countryside.
One of the many benefits of driving out this late at night, no one else was on the roads. The ride was quick and easy, and thankfully there were no deer.
Pulling down my road, though, caused my stomach to do its usual flip as I got closer to my driveway. This was the part that never got easier. Despite the numerous conversations I had with myself, this was the thing that my head and heart would always be at war about.
Maybe, just maybe.
Maybe today.
Or maybe not?
Would he?
I rolled my eyes at myself. He wasn’t going to be at the house. His old, beat-up truck wasn’t going to be parked at the end of the driveway with him waiting outside of it.
He wouldn’t be there.
He couldn’t.
As I drove closer, I could see our mailbox that was shaped like a fish. And no truck.
My head won the battle that night.
He wasn’t there.
Like always.
Letting out a long breath, I pulled into the long driveway, winding through the trees. Half way down, I passed my parents’ house. The two story, old-farm house stood with no lights on, which wasn’t a surprise. My parents were asleep this late at night.
I continued down the driveway, the road getting narrower as I made my way to the house that sat at the back of the property. My headlights hit the front of my tiny home that was nestled between a few trees.
My dad had originally built the structure as a playhouse for me when I was younger. He and I worked on insulating and refinishing it for me to live in it while I was in college. While being on the extremely small side, it had everything I needed. A small living space that doubled as a dining area, kitchen, bathroom with a shower and working toilet (which always shocked people), a bedroom wide enough to fit my full-size bed and a tiny closet.
I parked my car off to the side, then turned to grab my treasures from the store along with my purse to head towards the house. Light scratching noises were already coming from the other side of the front door as I approached.
“Waffle, I’m working on it,” I muttered as I fished for my keys from my purse. Waffle, my orange cat, continued to scratch from his side of the door. Impatient as always.
After finding the right key, I placed it into the lock. Turning the handle slowly, I pushed the door slightly open to be met by a pink nose peeking from the crack.
“Get back, Waffle.” I crouched low as I pushed the door open further, my hand out to block him. If I wasn’t careful, my adorable, indoor cat would make a mad dash for the outside. He thought he was an outdoor cat. While his angry demeanor might have scared away squirrels through the safety of the glass windows, Waffle was simply too spoiled to hunt for his own meal. Taking in a deep, calming breath, I quickly opened the door fast enough to stomp my feet to startle Waffle back to my bedroom so I could get into my home safely.
There would be no escapees tonight.
I deposited my jacket and purse on the small coat rack, slipped off my shoes, then made my way to the kitchen for a spoon. Waffle was already sitting in the door frame of my bedroom as I passed by, glaring up at me. “You can be mad all you want,” I told him as I walked past. “You might think you’re an outside cat, but you-” I pointed the spoon at him “-my friend are just a simple house cat.”
I was quick to curl my awkwardly curved self into a ball on the couch, grabbing the remote to put my show on with my ice cream in my lap. I spent the rest of my evening in that position. Me eating ice cream as I watched Mork show Mindy how people from his planet sat in chairs.
About an hour and a half later, the Moose Track sitting in my lap was half gone and Waffle was “reluctantly” sleeping next to me on my left. I was perfectly content relaxing there. The small moments like that were peace. The one thing I chased most. The strange intimacy that lingered with it. Of how it was. Of how it could have been.
I shook my head. I was not going to let myself go there. Not tonight.
A familiar, soft ding from my right pulled me from my thoughts as I turned my head. An email.
I squinted at the notification. Who was emailing me this late at night? I wasn’t expecting to hear from anyone. Unless it was another one of those random emails I got from subscriptions sites.
I sighed as I reached for my phone. The email, at first, held no appeal which caused me to glance at the other notification I had missed from earlier. The job site that I was using had an unopened alert. A quick glance between the two notifications had my heart speeding up in my chest.
Jobs4You!: Unread Message [Subject: Hello, Maisie!]
urMail: Jobs4You! Message: Hello, Maisie! My name is Takoda Maddens. I am the co-owner of the podcast…
Oh, my god. I stared wide eyed as I absorbed the information. Finally, a job offer. I swiftly clicked on my email app.
Hello, Maisie!
My name is Takoda Maddens. I am the co-owner of the podcast show “Rocking on the Switch.” Thank you so much for your application! I would love to set an interview at your earliest convenience. I hope to hear from you soon!
-Takoda (Koda) Maddens
❀ ❀ ❀
“So, what exactly are you going to be doing there?” my friend, Rita, asked me.
We had met up at a local coffee shop to catch up and chat about the email I had gotten the night before. Rita was sitting across from me with my phone in her hands, analyzing the email along with the original job posting.
“I’m not sure,” I replied, shrugging. “The job site just didn’t go into much detail.” It had talked about doing some daily tasks to help maintain the office and help with managing the hosts schedule. “Before setting up the interview, we did discuss some of my duties, but he didn’t go into much detail. He was quite vague. I think I’ll be like an intern?” I gave Rita a puzzled look. “What would an intern do for podcast hosts?”
“Get coffee?” She shrugged in return. “Possibly book events and help around the office. Maybe even help with their social media? I tried looking them up on Facebook and I couldn’t find anything.”
I shook my head. “I checked Facebook and Instagram and nothing.”
“That’s so strange.” The sun shone through the window opposite us, perfectly highlighting Rita’s black curls and dark skin. Her curvy frame was gracefully poised in her chair, her head tilted to the side as she continued her analyzing. She had those perfect curves that he said that he preferred. The perfect curves that I didn’t have. I had an apron “B” belly with defiant curves that did nothing for my other meek features.
Rita was unapologetically beautiful. I was beautiful too, in my own unique way. I just wasn’t the girl that stood out the way she did. Bold and unabashed, not mousy and sheepish.
Rita handed my phone back to me. “When is your interview? You can always ask them then.”
I took my phone back from Rita. “My interview is Wednesday at 11am. The studio is in Lake Orion, so that will be nice.”
Rita nodded, wrapping her hands around her coffee mug, “Okay, that’s just three days away. I’ve heard good things about Lake Orion. Bad things too, but the position will be a nice change of pace from your last job.”
Ah, yes, the coffee shop. Not the one we were currently in, thankfully. That job was two towns away and had only lasted a week when I realized the job was not for me.
“Yeah, that job was utter…”
“Bullshit,” Rita finished for me. “And the management was horrendous.”
I laughed, “Yes, bullshit and that too.”
Rita offered a reassuring smile, “This will be a new chapter for you. A better one.”
I signed heavily, “I hope so.” My hands fidgeted with the cup in front of me. It had been a year since I moved back home and I was not able to hold down a steady job. My old boss at the bank had heard what happened and offered me my old job back. But I hadn’t gathered the courage to take her up on that offer. “How are things at the school?” I blurted, desperate to change the subject.
Catching the shift, Rita’s smile softened, “It’s going good.” Her brown eyes went distant then, her thoughts seeming to drift. “I was nervous about teaching third grade,” she paused, trying to find her words. “You know how my original plan was to teach middle school. Hell, I was open for high school,” she let out an exasperated sigh. “But this was the only opening at the school.”
“I do remember that,” I agreed. Rita had majored in teaching, middle school history to be exact. So, third grade was a little far-fetched from middle school. “Do you like it so far?”
Her expression became uncertain. “Yes and no?” Rita shook her head. “I love my students, don’t get me wrong.” She waved her hand absently. “It’s just the parents.”
I looked at her perplexed, “What do you mean?”
Rita groaned, throwing her head back, “They’re awful. God fucking awful.”
My hands shoot up to my face to cover up my laugh that was trying to force its way out.
“Don’t you dare!” my friend straightened, meeting my amused stare. “You know how ridiculous parents can be,” Rita proclaimed, pointing her finger at me.
I pointed back at her, “That was only for a few weeks and you know that!” I worked at a daycare for a time when I had just moved back and I was in dire need of a job. The parents I encountered there made me question life itself. And I had vowed to never work at another daycare again.
She groaned again, withering in her chair. “But at least you understand what I mean. I talked to Trevor about it and he doesn’t understand, he thinks I am overacting.”
I offered her a gentle smile. Trevor, her boyfriend of three years, was not a man I particularly liked. Especially in moments like these. “I do, unfortunately, but you got this. Screw what Trevor thinks.” I reached across the table, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know you and how you operate, you’ll be able to manage the parents.”
Rita let out a small breath, “Thank you.” Sitting up from her slumped state, Rita mused, “Let’s hope your new bosses aren’t assholes like at your other jobs.”
I chuckled back at her, “Let’s hope so.”…
