Hold On

When I hear Buddha snoring, I know I’ve spent more than enough time here and should be going.

But this place, it’s so peaceful. So together. Unlike my life at the moment, which is a cluster, for lack of a better term. Being here feels safe, like nothing can touch me, like any problems that exist outside of these walls and the locked gate at the entrance can’t intrude.

My phone goes off in my pocket, reminding me that there is a world outside. I pull it out and see it’s Bethany, my supervisor at the agency, and also my friend. We clicked as soon as I started working there, and she’s mentored me ever since.

Bethany: Everything going okay? Mr. Rogers is a great client, just want to be sure everything is in order.

Me: Everything is great. Just wrapping up. Spent a little more time just to be sure everything is perfect and the client will be happy.

Bethany: Great. I knew you’d come through.

Me: I’ll fill out the visit comments before I leave.

Bethany: Good, don’t forget again. Carver has something up his ass about you and I’m afraid if you even forget to dot an ‘i’ at this point…

Me: I know. I’ll make sure everything is perfect.

Bethany: I bet his place is amazing.

Me: Beyond. I could get used to this. Lol

Bethany: lol, I’m sure. Did you find someone to come look at your electrical stuff at the house?

I sigh and screw up my face as I read her message. Bethany knows all about the problems I’ve been having at my own place, the farm I’ve lived at with my maternal grandparents since I was an infant, after my mom and dad were killed in a helicopter accident in Vegas where they’d just eloped. Only, since my grandparents died the place is mine, and it’s in rough shape to say the least.

Me: Yes. And no. I found someone, but it’s $60 an hour and they estimate it will be an eight- to ten-hour job to remove all the old frayed wires and put in new junction boxes, faulty outlets, blah blah blah.

Bethany: I know this is hard, but maybe you should sell it. Get what you can…the land has to be worth something.

Me: I can’t. I just can’t. Not yet.

Bethany: Okay. Well, I just worry about you back there in the woods. When you have outlets that are sparking…not good.

Me: I’ll figure it out. I still miss them so much and the place just makes me feel like they are still with me, you know?

Bethany: Yes. I get it.

I get lost in the thoughts of them and the last few years that were so hard for us all.

My text tone goes off, making me jump.

Bethany: Okay…call me when you get home. I got free tickets to the Cannery show tonight if you want to go.

Me: Okay. I will.

I’m not sure how Bethany and I became such firm friends over the last year since I joined the agency; she is way more of an extrovert than I am.

The idea of going to concert at a bar is just not me—being at home alone with a good book is far more my style, even with the dripping faucets and flickering lights.

Our choices of nightlife may not be the same, but still it’s nice to have someone I can call a best friend for the first time, and even better that we work together, too, especially when things at work could be a whole lot worse without her there to have my back.

The agency, Ruff & Purr, was bought out a little over a month ago by some conglomerate, and they brought in a guy, Carver Daniels, to run our location. Last week he came by our offices and met with the staff to introduce himself, talking about the changes he was going to make and assuring everyone their jobs were secure.

The only problem was, when the staff meeting wrapped up, he came over and asked me to come to his office. After a few minutes of him telling me how amazing he is, he asked me to have dinner with him that evening.

It all felt so awkward I didn’t know what to do, so I mumbled something about having plans and bolted out of the office. Ever since then, he’s been picking apart anything and everything I do. I’m sure he’d like to find something he can hold over me, but with Beth on my side, I’m hoping that’s unlikely.

Beth and I say our goodbyes, and I sit down next to Buddha, kissing and scratching him for another fifteen minutes, lost in the fantasy of Marshall doing the same thing. My lips, touching somewhere maybe his have touched, but I know this is as close to kissing him as I will ever get.

I finish writing up my visit notes on the app on my phone, then look around one last time.