“The timing is just so … ugh! It’s almost like they planned it! Next thing I know, Kumal is going to hand over all my passwords to Eugene Thornton or something.” She gasped. “Wait. You don’t think he …”
Destinee shrugged. “It’s been that kind of day, hasn’t it?”
Jessica ran to the laptop on the shelf and powered it up, immediately typing in her web address. “Oh, for shit’s sake!”
Destinee hovered over her shoulder. “Oh, Jess.” Her hand flew up to her mouth. “That’s really offensive.”
She’d never thought she’d hear her mother utter those words, but there were none other that would have fit the bright, GIF-heavy page that jumped out at her. “This doesn’t even make sense,” Jessica whimpered. “Why is Jesus in a bikini?”
“And why are there so many upside down crosses everywhere?” Destinee added. “Where’s the menu button?”
Jessica found it, hidden in the top right corner. The button was a pentacle-shaped loaf of rye bread.
When the menu loaded, Jessica yelped and covered the screen. “What the fuck, Kumal?!” She turned to see if her mom had caught a glimpse of it before she’d managed to hide it.
Judging by Destinee’s open mouth and wide eyes, she had. She placed a hand on her collarbone to steady herself as she said, “I cannot imagine a scenario in which an animated graphic of you deep-throating a baguette is called for.”
Jessica couldn’t imagine that scenario, either. And she also couldn’t remember a time when Destinee had been so far in the red that her accent went into hiding to allow more proper handling of the English language to take over. It was like where the flame was so hot it burned blue. “Please don’t kill him, Mom. He’s brown. It’ll be called a hate crime and you’ll be in prison for a long, long time.”
Destinee’s chest heaved. “Well, I’m gonna need to kill somebody, baby. And I’m caring less and less who it is.”
“I don’t know how to take this down.” Jessica scrolled to the bottom, searching fruitlessly for a “take this page down” button that she knew wouldn’t be there. “How long has this been live?” she wailed, scrolling frantically. Finally, she exed out of the window and tried to breathe. It didn’t work.
She slapped the laptop closed. “I don’t understand,” she moaned, squishing her face in her hands.
“I do,” Destinee said. “I told you not to let Dolores do the hiring. I told you!”
Jessica parted her fingers to sneak a peek at her mother. “Are you serious? You’re bringing this up now?”
“What? I’m just sayin’, baby. Why trust the judgment of a woman who sent you off alone at a zoo with a pedophile?”
Jessica’s head shot up fully now. “Mom, that was fourteen years ago! You’re really gonna act like I should have known this would happen because over a decade ago she made a mistake?”
Destinee braced her fists on her hips, her right leg kicked out to the side. “Yeah, that’s how I’m gonna act. I ain’t never sent you off with a pedophile, and I had all kinds of opportunities to.”
Jessica narrowed her eyes at her mother. “You sent me off alone with Jimmy Dean. Multiple times.”
As she swallowed, Destinee’s power pose softened. “Well, that’s different. He never tried to, you know, touch you.” But it was clear even she thought that a weak defense, considering the reverend had found other ways to traumatize Jessica in her early years. And her later years.
Groaning and putting her face back into her hands, Jessica whined, “I don’t even know where to start.”
Destinee rubbed her daughter’s back and crooned, “I think the best place to start is calling the most tech savvy person you know and getting her to help you take down that awful website.”
It was as good a plan as any, and Jessica grabbed her phone and dialed Quentin’s number.
She’d expected him to come no sooner than lunchtime, and had planned on spending each excruciating minute growing angrier and angrier at her obvious scapegoat: Mrs. Thomas. But Quentin was over in twenty minutes, coming straight from his work that was fifteen minutes away.
“Whoa!” he shouted, leaning away from the screen as it loaded the bakery’s homepage. He snuck a glance at her. “This isn’t a joke?”
“No,” she said miserably.
“Now that makes a lot more sense.” He nodded at Destinee who, in her futile attempt to salvage the remaining ingredients, pounded a hunk of dough into a spongy, useless brick.
“Can you fix it?” Jessica asked.
“Yeah, but I’ll need a login. Do you have that info?” He pulled up a login page with the host and waited.
“No, I don’t know what Kumal used.”
USERNAME KUMALLABALLA. PASSWORD DJKUMAL69.
She passed along the message.
You knew that was his password and username and you didn’t warn me he was a lunatic?
JUDGE NOT LEST YE BE JUDGED, MEXICANKICKER7. BESIDES, EXACTLY EIGHTY-SEVEN PERCENT OF PASSWORDS IN EXISTENCE HAVE THE NUMBER SIXTY-NINE IN THEM.
You keep track of everyone’s passwords?
ONLY THE SEXY ONES. THEY BRING THE LORD MIGHTY GIGGLES.
“Okay, the page is disabled,” said Quentin.
“No one else can see it?”
“Nope. But it also means your business is without a website.”
Jessica sighed. “A step in the right direction.”
“If you want,” Quentin said, “I can build you one. Nothing fancy, but also nothing objectively offensive.”
Jessica threw her arms around him, nestling her face into the crook of his neck. “I love you.”
He patted her on the back twice. “Yeah, yeah.” Then he pushed her away. “You know I’m always down to be your fake boyfriend, but never your real rebound. Keep it in your pants, McCloud.”
Temporarily ignoring the fact that he knew about the breakup and she hadn’t been the one to tell him, which meant he and Chris has talked about it, she asked, “Why do you always help me?”
“I’m an angel. I can’t not. Or, I can not, but it would suck.”
“Right, that’s what I mean. What happens when you don’t help me?”
He pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes in thought, leaning back in his chair with this hands clasped behind his head. Finally he said, “You remember when we had art class together in high school?” She nodded. “There was this one day when you asked if anyone had a pencil sharpener you could borrow for your colored pencils. I did. I had one in my backpack. But I didn’t want to let you use it because you were unbelievably bad at sharpening pencils and you always made the tip break off, and then I’d have to dig it out before I could use it.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. It was a running joke with Chris and me. So, as soon as you asked if anyone had one, I felt this sort of energy in my spine, right between my shoulder blades, and when I decided not to say anything, that energy immediately fell into my stomach and I had to run to the bathroom and because I wasn’t sure if I was going to throw up or shit my pants.”
Jessica’s mouth had fallen open. “God was going to make you shit your pants because you didn’t give me a pencil sharpener?”
“Yes, I think your Heavenly Father was the cause of the sudden digestive issues. Even today when you called, I considered not coming, and then I got the rumbles and knew I’d better head over.”
She plopped down into the empty chair across from his. “Oh boy. This … this raises some questions.”
“Like how Chris was able to leave?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of ethics and morals, but that too.”
“Did you ever ask him to stay?”
She shook her head. “No. Never.”
There was a silence, then Quentin added, “For what it’s worth, I think he’s always helped because he loves you, not because he doesn’t want to shit his pants.”
“And you?”
He beamed warmly. “I also love you and want to help. Bu
t mostly it’s the poop thing.”
Quentin left to return to his real job, promising to have a new site up by the end of the day. With that small bit of good news, the dense fog in her brain began to lift.
What did she do now?
She supposed she just kept going.
Chapter Fifteen
In the weeks that followed, there was good news and there was bad news.
The good news was that Jessica managed to keep the mortgage company from foreclosing on her bakery. That process involved a long, in-person meeting with a severe woman who didn’t want to hear a word out of Jessica’s mouth and the severe woman’s supervisor, who ultimately granted them leniency under the given circumstances … and who Jessica highly suspected was an angel.
The bad news was that Jessica hadn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep a night, had been unsuccessful in reaching any of her nefarious employees to officially fire them, was experiencing record-low sales, and was fairly sure Judith was searching for another job to escape the miserable work environment for which Jessica herself was solely responsible. Part of Jessica’s crankiness could have been due to her decision not to take a paycheck beyond what she needed to fill her gas tank, meaning she ate nothing but leftovers from work (only slightly more extreme than usual) and hadn’t had a drink—or a vegetable—in weeks.
The early August heat let itself in through the front door every time a new guest arrived, and as luck would have it, the register was right in the line of the blast, leaving Jessica a sweaty mess as she copped a squat on a tall stool, staring daggers at the lone customer who’d been camping all day, had bought only a small coffee, and had helped himself to a free refill every half hour.
It only made it worse that it was her regular, Darius … or maybe Donny—god, what was his name? He mentioned it in every interaction, she saw it on his credit card every time he paid, but it just wouldn’t stick. Which make it completely different from his gaze, which stuck to her and followed her almost everywhere she went as she served customers, emptied the dish bins by the trash cans, refilled the ice machine, and even sat on her ass like she was now, trying not to melt from the heat mingled with her exhaustion.
She narrowed all her negative thoughts on his weak chin and penis-like nose.
“Damn you, Dante,” she mumbled.
His eyes shot open and a hand flew up to his chest. He stared down at his coffee cup like it was the culprit for the sudden heart palpitations. While Jessica felt slightly guilty for letting her anger get the best of her, she also knew it wasn’t life threatening.
I should just kick him out and close early.
DO NOT LOSE HOPE, CHILD.
That’s not me losing hope. That’s me hoping to get in bed before two in the morning.
She glanced at the clock above the door. Only a quarter past five. Would closing two hours early be bad? Probably no one would notice. And who cared anyway? A haze of doom hung over the entire enterprise. With sales what they were, she was simply biding her time until she had to close her doors forever.
YOU SHOULD REJOICE. YOU WANTED FINANCIAL INDEPENDENCE, CORRECT?
Jessica grunted.
YOU ARE ALMOST THERE! JUST SIXTY-ONE THOUSAND MORE TO BE CAUGHT UP, AND THEN THE REST OF THE MORTGAGE.
It feels like you’re mocking me.
IGNORE YOUR FEELINGS. I AM THE LORD. I SEE MANY WAYS OUT OF THIS HOLE FOR YOU, AND SOME OF THEM DO NOT INVOLVE BREAKING MY COMMANDMENTS.
But some of them do? Wait, is one of them becoming a contract killer? Because I’m at the point where I would consider it. Maybe two more nights without enough sleep.
THOU SHALT NOT BECOME A CONTRACT KILLER.
That’s bullshit. Don’t you have the power to forgive me for sins if you want to?
YES.
Then couldn’t you just give me a freebie? A get-out-of-jail-free card?
I COULD. WOULD YOU LIKE THAT, DAUGHTER?
Would I— Yes, I would like that very much! “For shit’s sake,” she mumbled. Yes, mighty and all that lord, I would very much like a fucking get-out-of-jail-free card.
THEN IT IS DONE. YOU HAVE ONE. MIGHT THE LORD DISCOURAGE YOU FROM USING IT IMMEDIATELY?
Depends on why.
YOU’LL NEED IT LATER.
You’re telling me things are going to get worse than this?
God laughed, rumbling in her skull and making her eyes cross. OH, YES. SO MUCH WORSE. OOH MANKIND! WHEN I THINK ABOUT THE WORSENESS HEADING YOUR WAY, IT’S LIKE CHANG CHAO PHAT ALL OVER AGAIN.
Chang Chao who?
YOU’VE NEVER MET HIM. HE’S SUPER DEAD.
Isn’t there something you can do to, I dunno, prevent all the misery heading my way?
SURE, BUT IT WOULDN’T HELP YOU IN THE LONG RUN. BESIDES, YOUR STORY IS TURNING OUT WAY MORE INTERESTING THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD. A MUCH WIDER DEMOGRAPHICAL APPEAL, TOO. THE LORD EXPECTED MORE OF A WOMAN EIGHTEEN TO THIRTY-FIVE THING, BUT THERE IS A UNIVERSAL INTEREST TO IT. I COULD SEE IT DOING WELL WITH MEN AND THE THIRTY-FIVE TO SIXTY GROUP.
I’m glad you’re so pleased with it, but if you don’t mind, I have some sleep-deprived misery to get back to.
TRUE ENOUGH.
Jessica rubbed at her temples, the buzzing from God’s laughter still aggravating the low-grade headache she’d enjoyed all week. She reached below the register and grabbed a bottle of acetaminophen, shaking herself a couple and throwing them back with a long gulp of cold coffee. When was the last time she’d eaten? It was stupid how she forgot to eat while surrounded by food.
She grabbed a strawberry kolache out of the case and threw it in the microwave. As she took her first bite a minute later, the front door opened, blasting her with hot air and making her eyes roll back in her head.
When she saw who it was that had entered on the heatwave, she gripped the kolache too tightly, sending hot jam dripping down her hand. “Ow, shit!” She quickly licked the scalding substance from her skin, which only meant she now had it on her tongue.
As she sucked air in and out, knowing any chance of actually tasting her on-the-go dinner had just been burned away, Mrs. Thomas made her way over, beaming like she wasn’t a major player in Jessica’s current miserable predicament.
“Oh good, I don’t have to wait in line!” she said brightly.
Didn’t she know that wasn’t a good indicator for the longevity of a business?
Jessica was unsure how to proceed. Mrs. Thomas had been a perfect scapegoat for all of her frustration in the days since Sampson, Kumal, and Dwayne had screwed her royally.
Of course, she hadn’t let Mrs. Thomas know about any of that.
In fact, she hadn’t even mentioned the debacle or the firings to the woman. How could she? She had no clue how to confront the one person who’d always had her back.
It was strange seeing her long-time hero in this new light. Features of the woman’s face that had always seemed a familiar comfort to Jessica now left her feeling slightly repulsed. The woman’s plumpness, which had presented as matronly and congenial before, seemed a bit too lumpy and careless. The smile lines at the corners of her eyes could now be referred to only as crow’s feet. And as the woman grinned at her, Jessica noticed for the first time that Mrs. Thomas could have benefitted greatly from some orthodontic work.
The unforgiving filter of Jessica’s bitterness left her feeling sodden and ashamed. This wasn’t how good people thought about others. Mrs. Thomas had been Jessica’s safety net more times than she could count on both hands, and the woman made one mistake and now she was ready to toss her to the wayside?
Wow, I’m really awful.
The self-loathing was a small comfort, and she vowed to push ahead without becoming petulant.
“What’s wrong?” Mrs. Thomas said, stopping short and tilting her head to the side.
“Nothing,” Jessica lied.
“No, something’s definitely wrong. If nothing else, you look more stressed than ever. Are you delegating enough to the new hires?”
Unsu
re what else to say, Jessica said, “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Mrs. Thomas nodded. “I see that.” She glanced around the cafe area and then said, “Since you’re not busy, why don’t you grab us two coffees and we can sit and catch up?”
More coffee sounded good. Catching up did not. “Yeah, sure.”
Despite her resolution to avoid coming off as petulant, by the time Jessica had grabbed the coffees and sat across from Mrs. Thomas, who had, oddly enough, picked a table right next to Danny (Drey?), she was fuming and ready to launch an attack.
But she couldn’t. Not with his eyes glued to her. Ugh. Could she kick him out on the grounds that she couldn’t stand his meek, squirrelly demeanor and penis nose? This was Texas, after all. She was pretty sure she could kick out anyone for anything she liked. The way he stared at her, all watery eyes and moist lips, gave the impression he was always only seconds away from saying something incredibly disgusting about her physical appearance.
Mrs. Thomas thanked her for the coffee then said, “You know, the whole point of hiring people is to allow you to either work less or work the same but use the time more meaningfully.”
“I fired them,” Jessica blurted.
“Who?”
“All of them.”
Mrs. Thomas sat up straight. “Oh!” She paused, and Jessica allowed her a moment to soak it in. “I imagine it took quite a lot of courage to fire your own mother, but it was probably for the best to let her—”
“What? No! I didn’t fire my mom. I fired all the ones you sent me. Or at least I’ve tried to. None of them have returned my calls, but, judging by the fact that I haven’t seen or heard from them in weeks, I think they got the message.”
“What happened?” Mrs. Thomas asked. “Was their work subpar?”
Jessica’s mouth fell open as she tried to think where to start. “Let’s see … They were each rude to me in their own way—which I could have dealt with. But then Sampson stole thousands of dollars from me and left me in deep shit, Dwayne decided not to close the freezer one night and ruined all the stockpile of food I’d miracled so I could take a few days off to recover from a breakup, and Kumal launched the worst website of all time without running it by me first, even though I told him multiple times to let me sign off on it.”
In the Details Page 11