“Hi. Are you feeling okay? Is something wrong?” He looks past me at the squad filling the hallway and crowding the space.
“It’s phase three,” I inform him.
“I know. I heard it on the news.”
I move closer, and I feel the energy around us ramp up. “What are you doing here?” he asks nervously.
I close the space between us. “I told you. It’s phase three. I’m expanding my circle of friends.” I lift my hand to his face and gently unhook the straps from his ears and remove his facemask. He leans in to meet me halfway. I press my lips against his in a kiss that starts sweet and tender and grows with deeper passion as Grant drops his clipboard and pulls me to his chest. I ignore the high school howling and cheering from behind me as the squad gives me their approval.
When I pull away and look into Grant’s eyes, I swear for a moment, I see Ryan standing behind him, smiling. I know that it couldn’t be him. But I realize that I have never been alone. I’ve been blessed with many guardian angels in my life. Some of them are just watching from above now.
About Tricia Daniels
Tricia Daniels lives in a small town in Southern Ontario, Canada. She’s just a normal woman, struggling to pay the bills and trying to raise her kids as a single parent, in a home where they feel empowered, supported and loved. Between her quick wit and twisted sense of humor, she found she has a passion for writing.
https://authortriciadaniel.wixsite.com/triciadaniels
Newsletter Signup
Soaked
M. Jane Colette
Because picking up a girl in the plumbing aisle of a hardware store should be on every woman’s bucket list. — Soaked
Soaked
Janet was on edge. She was losing time. She had timed everything perfectly: arriving at the Lowe’s five minutes before opening so that she’d be in and out and at her neighbour’s apartment fixing her sink as soon as the hot little nurse got back from her night shift at the Rockyview Hospital ER. But now, she was already late. She had forgotten to take into account the twenty minutes she’d have to wait in the physically distanced line-up before getting into the store. When would she remember that this was the new normal? Probably never. She was losing time, losing time—where were the flex hoses? Goddammit, they were always on the third shelf from the top, left side of Aisle 27. They’d been stocked there for the last three years. For the last decade. Who changed the location of such a basic product, ever? Who? What half-brained idiot…
“Can I help you?”
“Where the hell are your compression fittings?” Janet said. She sounded rude and impatient, even to her own ears, even from behind her mask. The employee, standing six feet away from her, looked, at best, confused. Maybe even frightened. Janet took a deep breath and spoke again, trying to be, if not polite, at least less pissed.
“I’m looking for sink flex lines. They’re usually here. Where are they?”
“Um.” The employee, who was not wearing a mask, bit her lips. They were, Janet noticed despite herself, very nice lips. Full and dark, unpainted but a little glossy anyway. Very kissable lips, in fact, and in most other circumstances, Janet would shelve her impatience—she wouldn’t be impatient at all, actually—and she’d give those lips a lot of attention, and look at the cheeks, chin, and nose and eyes—oh, those were really lovely eyes… and… She’d never picked up a girl in a hardware store, and it seemed to her that this should be a bucket list item for any lesbian.
But not today. Today, she needed the damn supply line. And a cut-off valve.
“Um. Could you—flex line, you said? What does that look like?”
Janet stared at the employee, whose beautiful lips were suddenly less appealing, with contempt.
“You’re kidding me, right?” She peered at the woman’s name tag. “Freddie? That’s your name? Freddie, you work in the plumbing department of Lowe’s and you don’t know what flex lines look like?”
“Um.”
“Oh-my-god, I’ll just find them myself. If you could stop blocking my way?” Janet started moving down the aisle.
“I’ll get someone who can help.” Janet heard a trembling voice, on the verge of tears, calling out after her, and she felt like shit, but she was losing time, she was late, and how could anyone hire such thoroughly incompetent people? And she was late—and, yes! Here they were. She’d only be fifteen minutes behind schedule. She felt her anger recede—and her shame at being rude increase—and she turned around to apologize to, what was her name, Freddie.
But the inexperienced employee with the kissable lips was gone.
Where was she?
“Why did that take so long?” Dark and Stormy complained when Janet got back to the truck.
“COVID-19 precautions. You know the drill,” Janet snapped. “Just drive. Next time, you go in.”
“Babe, you think you took long? You know why you always do the shopping, and it’s not ‘cause I can’t resist shiny things—it’s ‘cause store security just can’t resist following anything with melanin around the store.” Dark and Stormy rolled her eyes. “Chill, babelicious. We’re almost on time. Straight to job number one, or you determined to squeeze in that freebie for hot nursie first?”
“We can’t be banging around in her house when she’s sleeping after her night shift,” Janet said. “I’ll be in and out in five minutes.”
“Fifteen,” Dark and Stormy corrected. “More if she’s there. Fuck. You and straight girls.”
“You don’t know that she’s straight,” Janet muttered.
“I do and you do. Anyway. What we’re gonna do—you’re gonna stay in the truck and get the invoices prepped. I’m gonna do nursie’s sink. And then we’re going to be almost back on schedule. Do you think people are having more plumbing problems since lockdown? Or is it just my imagination?”
“Certainly seems like more sinks are plugging up and toilets breaking,” Janet agreed. “Look, I said I’d do her…”
“I know you said you’d do her, but she definitely does not want to do you, so I’m gonna go and do the five-minute job in five minutes,” Dark and Stormy said. “What? What’s up your ass? What happened?”
“Nothing,” Janet said.
The truck stopped at a red light, and Dark and Stormy turned her head. And stared at Janet for a full minute.
“I was kinda nasty to this girl,” Janet mumbled. “‘Cause she couldn’t find my parts.”
Dark and Stormy howled.
“You know what I mean.” Janet jabbed her. And repeated the conversation.
“That’s not like you,” Dark and Stormy said after a few minutes’ pause.
“I know,” Janet said. “Fucking pandemic. It’s turning me into a bitch.”
“It’s turning me into a born-again virgin,” Dark and Stormy said. She pulled up in front of Janet’s apartment block and extended her hands towards Janet. Janet sighed and gave her the Lowe’s bag. Then the Darth Vader respirator, with its N95 filter. “Thanks,” her friend said, hopping out of the car. “That’s the real reason I’m making you stay in the car, by the way, while I take care of Hot Nursie’s plumbing needs,” she cackled once safely outside. “Hoping straight girl has a Star Wars fetish.”