When Cordelia got back to her apartment that afternoon, a tall glass of Riesling and Lillian were waiting for her. She had hardly dropped her backpack on the floor when the glass of white wine was thrust into her hand.
"TELL ME EVERYTHING, BITCH." Lillian grinned at her.
Cordelia chuckled and accepted the glass. She took a swig, moaned, and then plopped down on the ragged sofa with crossed legs.
"I don't think you'll believe me," she told her roommate.
One of Lillian's brows shot up. "Do tell," she mumbled, drinking from her own glass.
As Cordelia leaned back against the couch, she shook her head. "He was nice to me. Like, the whole time. He insisted I eat a muffin? I don't know. It was strange but not terrible."
"Hmmm." Lillian swished the wine around in her mouth. "What are your duties?"
"I'm not really sure. We didn't talk about that . . . which I guess is weird. He gave me a tour of the facility and then I had to get my hand print put into the system."
Lillian visibly shuddered. "They better have burned mine out of the system. So, he gave you the tour himself? Jim usually does menial tasks for him."
"Well, I am working directly under him. I met Jim, though. He was . . . interesting." Cordelia's nose wrinkled. She wasn't sure what to make of the older gentleman.
"Jim was actually my favorite. He's really nice," Lillian said. "He's probably just sus of you. Can't have a pretty young thing take his position."
That made Cordelia laugh. "I hardly think that's what he was concerned about. I'm pretty sure he was wondering what back alley Dr. Rochester plucked me out of."
"Oh, whatever. I don't know anyone who doesn't like you. Ole Jim will warm up to you very soon, I'm sure."
The girls chatted about their day and classes before Lillian's stomach rumbled. They carried their glasses into the kitchen for refills and Lillian started on making spaghetti while Cordelia chopped and seasoned zucchini. A companionable hush fell between them as 3 Doors Down played from their little portable speaker.
Cordelia's shrieking cell ring tone shattered the moment of peace. She jogged to the living room to pull it out of her backpack. At seeing 'mother' appear on her screen, Cordelia immediately answered it.
"Hi, Mom," she said softly.
Her mother's voice sounded like dying brakes on a car. "Why am I getting calls from the school about you not graduating?"
"What?" she asked. She wasn't surprised by her mother's hostility but not graduating was news to her.
"I don't know! You tell me. Did you not get an internship or something?"
"I just got an internship today. Don't worry about that then. The Dean must not have informed them yet—"
"Well, get it fixed!" screeched her mother. "I don't care what you need to do but I will not have you failing college in your last year. What is it? Have you started partying now?"
Cordelia sighed. "My grades are fine, Mom. I'll send their office an email tomorrow. It'll all get sorted out."
"It better. Are you coming back this weekend? Your father needs help at the shop."
"I can if he needs me. How is Papa?"
"I'll have dinner made Friday night so don't dally," her mother said and hung up without answering her question.
Cordelia pulled the phone away from her face to check the screen. Her mother had indeed hung up on her. Again. She always did that when she was angry.
When isn't she angry? Cordelia wondered, tossing the device onto the couch.
She returned to the kitchen to help Lillian finish dinner. As soon as she finished the zucchini, she walked over to the freezer and grabbed her beloved tub of Cookie Two-Step. She stabbed into its soft cream with a spoon and then brought the spoonful to her lips.
"Oh boy," Lillian remarked. "I take it that call was with your mom?"
Cordelia turned to her roommate with a puzzled frown. "What do you mean?"
"You always eat comfort food after you talk to her."
Her mouth dropped as if Lillian's statement had been an insult. "I do not!"
"You totally do. Last week, you opened a bag of barbecue potato chips and ate the whole thing."
"Don't judge me," Cordelia muttered. "My mom asked me to come home this weekend."
"Okay, well, don't go."
"It's not that simple. My mom will crawl all over my ass if I don't go. Apparently my dad needs help at the shop."
Lillian's face hardened. "I get that, but you have your own life, Del. You don't have to be at their beck and call. You just took on a new internship. And I know going home makes you miserable. Don't go."
You don't get it, Cordelia thought crossly.
Lillian rarely went home and she never talked about her parents. From what little Cordelia knew about them, they were very wealthy but not kind to their daughter. Though her mother wasn't nice to her, Cordelia was close with her father and even closer to her grandfather, Papa. She'd been Papa's caretaker since she was a child, feeding him his medications, taking him on walks in his wheelchair, and, when she was old enough, driving him to doctor appointments and errands. If she let herself think about the elderly man, it made her anxious about his well being. Her father worked too much to take good care of Papa and Cordelia's mother certainly had no interest in caring for the man.
"I'll buy you a drink if you stay and come out with me," her roommate continue. "Come on, Del. I know you feel responsible for them but you're the kid here."
"We'll go next weekend," Cordelia said.
Lillian slumped down with a huff, but Cordelia paid her no mind. She'd decided what needed to be done and that was final.
—(—)—
Cordelia's eyes were crossing. She'd been staring at the laptop screen for hours now and still hadn't finished her worksheet. Her phone pinged. For the first time since dinner, she looked at her phone. The time was close to three in the morning. Groaning, she read the text message notification.
UNKNOWN: Please come to the office tomorrow at your earliest convenience. I'd like to discuss your schedule for the coming week.
She read the text a few times before her tired brain registered the words. Wait—why was Dr. Rochester texting her at this hour? Shouldn't he have been in bed by now? Rubbing her eyes, Cordelia opened the message app and tapped out a response to her new boss.
CORDELIA: I'll only be free in the morning, sir. I'll plan to be there by 9 but I'll sex you when I'm heading there
She put her phone down and returned her focus to the worksheet. Not even half a minute later, the device pinged again. Groaning, she checked it again.
UNKNOWN: Are you under the influence, Miss Webb?
She frowned at the screen. Under the influence? Like, was she drinking? Cordelia was puzzled by his question.
CORDELIA: No sir?
She hadn't even looked back at her work when her phone chimed a third time.
"Aye!" she cried in frustration. Nevertheless, she read the new message.
UNKNOWN: I think you should get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow morning.
How strange, Cordelia thought. She was just glad the conversation was over. She silenced the device and finally worked on completing her assignment.