#Chapter4
shoot me now
Lucille
I arrived at work as Grayson met me, handing me a piece of paper. I took it, confused, and read it. Then my face contorted in confusion.
/"You’re writing me up?/"
/"Yes./"
/"Why?/"
/"Because your attitude is unprofessional. Your work is sloppy. You take too long on tasks. Must I go on?/"
/"No./"
/"Now sign it./"
He handed me a pen. I took the pen and signed the paper, giving both back to him. After that, he gave me a list of tasks to complete before the end of my shift. Afterward, he walked away.
Shoot me now.
Throughout my shift, I worked my ass off. If I got fired, it would piss off my parents. I’ll get a lecture from hell.
I skipped lunch and breaks to complete the tasks Grayson assigned to me.
At one point, he checked on me. Why?
/"How’s it going?/"
/"Fine./"
I didn’t bother to look at him.
/"Are you almost done?/"
/"I’m getting there./"
I kept working.
/"Lucille, I’m trying to help you./"
/"Yeah, sure./"
/"You’re upset, but I had no choice. I can’t let you slide./"
I turned to him.
/"Slide? Slide on what? The fact, I enjoy my job, and it shows?/"
He looked at me.
/"My work isn’t sloppy. I show up every day. I never call off, and you stand there, trying to give yourself a reason for writing me up, which I didn’t deserve. But I don’t want to argue because I can’t lose my job. Now excuse me. I have to finish tasks before the end of my shift./"
I turned back around. I wanted to get my tasks done, so I could go home and eat. I’m starving.
At the end of my shift, I found Grayson. I handed him my list, walking away, then clocked out and left. I wanted to go home and eat.
When I got home, Mom had dinner waiting for me. I devoured the food on my plate, surprising her. She questioned me. I told her I got busy at work, which bothered her.
*****
The next day, Grayson gave me a list of tasks and expected me to do them. Again, I skipped my lunch and breaks. I hated Grayson.
That continued, much to my parents’ dismay. I need to eat because of my hypoglycemia. They weren’t happy.
Mom visited my work. She marched to the front desk, talked to a manager, and gave them hell.
That set off a chain of events. When Mom left, the manager gave Grayson hell. In return, he gave me hell. Thanks, Mom.
*****
Then I got a cold. Great. That’s my luck. I worked, feeling lousy, given a job of collecting carts in the freezing rain. Thanks, Grayson, you schmuck.
By the end of my shift, I felt like hell. I headed home to bed. It didn’t help because I spent more time coughing and less time getting rest.
After working a week, this damn cough left. I came in, and once again, Grayson sent me out into the freezing rain. That made me worse. Grayson is a tool.
Mom took me to the doctor. My cold turned into bronchitis, which became pneumonia. Fantastic.
They put me on medicine and gave me time off of work. My parents took me home, and I had gone straight to bed while they headed to my work.
Mom walked up to the front desk as Grayson met her. She handed him the note, which he opened, getting a surprise.
/"Mr. Gray, I get you don’t like my daughter. Because you gave her a shit job, she developed pneumonia. Lucille won’t return until she feels better. When she returns, I don’t want to see her in this weather. You will catch hell if she does./"
She turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, shocked.
*****
Grayson
I looked at the doctor’s note, wanting to kick myself. Ever since we had coffee together, I made it a point to make Lucille hate me. Now I caused her to get sick.
I wanted to push her away, but I made her sick instead. That didn’t sit well with me.
After my shift, I stopped at a florist, ordering flowers along with a get-well card. The gesture won’t change things, but I’m hoping it did.
The florist handed me a card, and I jotted a note on it before giving it back.
I left and drove home. Once I arrived, I removed my coat, hung it up, then walked into the kitchen and made some dinner.
I sat there and ate, thinking about Lucille. I tried to deny my feelings, but Lucille had a unique quality to her. When I interviewed her for the job, I found myself annoyed but attracted to her.
She possessed a craziness that few people owned. She made a habit of giving me a hard time, which drove me crazy, but I enjoyed it.
I liked Lucille a lot, but I didn’t want to admit it. I liked the way she laughed at the craziest things. I liked how she enjoyed working. She always smiled. Then I became a king-size tool with her, hoping to push her away.
The problem was, I didn’t want to push her away.
I looked around my apartment. I would instead work with Lucille than sit here alone. At least, I enjoyed working. My apartment was lonely.
My phone rang, and I picked it up.
/"Hello?/"
Grayson, how are you?
/"Not so good./"
What happened?
/"Mom, I screwed up./"
I rubbed my forehead.
Talk to me, Gray.
/"Remember the girl I had mentioned?/"
Lucille?
/"Yeah, I did something I shouldn’t have done, and now she’s sick. I acted like a complete tool to her./"
Gray, listen to me. You can fix this problem. If you care about this girl, you’ll fix it. I realize you refused to become interested in anyone since Marnie, but she would want you happy.
/"She’s younger than me./"
Age is a number, Grayson. You can’t keep pushing people away. At some point, open up to someone. Think about it.
/"Okay, Mom./"
I hung up, setting the phone down. I glanced at mine and Marnie’s picture. Getting that call was the worse pain I had ever felt. Since then, I have refused to like or love anyone else.
That was until I met Lucille. Shit.