“And I’m telling you it’s not.”
Jordan grit his teeth and said, “It’s not my job.”
There was a long silence, and under normal circumstances, he would’ve been uneasy about the quiet. At the moment, though, all he wanted to do was watch the world burn to ash. Which was why when John replied with, “I’m sorry, but it is,” he snapped back with,
“It’s not in my job description, and I’m not going to do this anymore.”
“Is this you quitting, Jordan?”
His heart thudded up into his throat, and the shrill, rational voice in the back of his head screamed itself silly trying to warn him to back down. Back down and just take it. Take it, deal with it, work through it.
“Yeah, John, it is. I’m not doing work I’m not getting paid for. Now you’ll have to fill another position.”
“Alright. I’ll let Martin know that you’ve made your decision.”
“Great. Have a wonderful morning, and tell Martin I said thank you for the opportunity.” Sarcasm spilled from his lips like tar, and he hung up the phone before he could say anything else reckless. That was when the realization of what he’d just done sank in.
“What the fuck?” he breathed, clutching his shirt. He’d really just done that. All those weeks fantasizing about quitting his dead-end job, and he’d really just done it. Immediately, he felt sick to his stomach. He was unemployed.
Bills. Rent. The cost of living.
Everything hit him at once, over and over, and for a minute, he was sure he was going to pass out. Jordan’s chest tightened and his stomach twisted, all the telltale signs that one of his anxiety attacks was on the brink.
But he had Meet Cute Club happening shortly, and he couldn’t lose his shit before their meeting. He had to keep it together. Regain control.
Breathe.
Jordan closed his eyes and inhaled through his belly, centering himself to keep from exploding all over the kitchen. He reminded himself of his savings. Since he’d started working at the call center, he’d kept money in his rainy-day fund. Enough to live off of for at least six months. He would find a job before that money ran out. He would be fine. He’d planned for a situation like this.
Eventually, the swell of panic settled, and he was able to think clearly once more.
It took a few moments to stand up straighter, but Jordan forced himself to continue on with his morning. He still had company coming over, and he owed it to them to keep the same level of energy he always provided.
After a quick trip to the grocery store (and some time perusing the new arrivals in the romance section), Jordan returned home with two bags full of groceries. Whenever he needed an escape from the tornado of thoughts in his head, he tried out a new recipe. With all his focus on not screwing up the hors d'oeuvres, it was easy to put aside his stress and calm down.
The snack for this meeting was a cheese bread recipe he’d found while scrolling through Pinterest. He knew that none of his members had any specific allergies and figured they might be sick of all the constant sweets he pumped everyone full of. It would be a nice change of pace.
Bouncing around the kitchen, the last of Jordan’s anxiety finally disappeared, and he was able to put a smile on once more. With everything he’d gone through in his life, from his parents’ deaths to his struggle with his sexuality, he’d learned that sitting and simmering in one place did no good. It might’ve even been unhealthy, though he had no scientific evidence to back up that claim.
Whenever he found himself facing a tough situation, he had to be active. Proactive, even. That was why, when he popped the loaf of bread from the tin and plated it, he gave himself a pat on the back. He could’ve just as easily fallen to the kitchen floor in one of his worst panic attacks in a long time. But he didn’t. He’d made this beautiful creation.
Things were going to turn around for him, and if they didn’t, he was going to turn them around all on his own.
With a quick change of clothes, he returned to the living room in a pair of jeans and his favorite black and white striped hoodie. He’d picked it up on his way to a book signing after the person beside him on the bus spilled her coffee down the side of his previous favorite hoodie. There’d been a small boutique not too far from the bookstore, and he was able to save the day from disaster with a simple thirty-five-dollar purchase.
As usual, Lana showed up at his front door first, and just as unsurprisingly, she had new hair. Gone was the platinum blonde, this time replaced with a red color vibrant enough to make little mermaids jealous.
“Every time I see you, Lana,” he said, shaking his head and giving her a quick hug.
“Variety is the spice of life, baby.”
While they waited for the others to arrive, Jordan and Lana talked about what she’d been up to in the past week. Lana gushed about some foreign movie she’d gone to the theater to see, and how it changed her life forever. He tried to get the name of the film from her, but her attention span moved like a rabbit, from one topic to the next without any hesitation or sign of slowing down.
For as fast as she talked, Jordan noticed the way she rerouted every conversation away from Meet Cute Club. When he brought up the book, she laughed and started on another story about something that had happened to her downtown last weekend. She’d even admitted to forgetting her copy at home. He wasn’t normally a suspicious person, but all of his alarms were going off.
Something was up with her.
The knocks at the door were her chance to escape. Lana hopped up and hurried to greet the other members, starting brand new conversations with all of them. Jordan figured he’d let it go for the time being, but as soon as the meeting was over and they’d all raved over Deadly Lovely Mine, he found himself buzzing around her, quietly trying to piece together why her energy felt off.
“Hey,” he said in a hushed voice. Around him, the other members stood chatting about their families and the next book they were reading. To his surprise, even Rex was in the middle of a discussion about the book for the following week.
“Hey, Jordan, I was actually wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?” Lana pulled him aside, away from the chatter, and lowered her voice as well. “Listen, please don’t be mad at me, but I think this might be my last day of Meet Cute Club.”
It was like being hit with a bag of sand. Jordan blinked, momentarily certain that he’d heard her incorrectly. Lana wasn’t leaving. She was just messing with him. From the uneasy smile she gave him, Jordan knew his face revealed every thought in his mind.
“I’m sorry,” she said, frowning. “I just have so much on my plate right now. I’m actually going to start this pottery club with my mom. At first, I thought it was kind of silly, but she’s really convinced me, and I can’t say no to her. She’s been feeling better lately, but the doctors are still worried she might not stay in remission for very long.”
Jordan’s first impulse was to be upset with Lana, but he knew that would be unfair. With the fight Lana’s mother had been through and how hard she worked to get better, she deserved to spend time with her daughter. It stung, but he wasn’t a monster.
“I…I’m okay. I think you should do it. Your mom is more important, of course. Please don’t feel bad, okay?”