When the pharmacy became visible in the distance, I couldn’t help the sick feeling that hit me as I got closer. It was embarrassing for me to pick these up. The pharmacist knew me very well. He knew my name, address, phone number, and birthday, I was sure, by heart. And he knew exactly what medication I was on and why.
The worst time for me was when my prescription was increased, and I had to face him after that.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to approach the automatic doors. They quickly slid open, and I walked inside. I made my way to the pharmacy counter at the back of the store, avoiding everyone’s eyes as I did so.
Eye contact with strangers was something I could not do. It made me feel like they could see right through me. Like they knew just what was going on in my head.
As it turned out, I was the only one by the pharmacy, as they had just opened and it was a Wednesday morning. It wasn’t really a popular time for people to pick things up or drop prescriptions off. So, I was relieved that no one was around.
“Hey, Rachel,” said the pharmacist, Sam.
“Hey, Sam,” I said. Making sure to avoid eye contact with him.
“Here to pick up your refill?” he asked.
I nodded my head. Every time I dropped off a new prescription, it came with three refills, so I only had to see my psychiatrist once every few months.
“This is your last re-fill,” he said as he pulled up my info on the screen.
“I know. I’m headed to see her soon,” I lied. It was so hard for me to make conversation with people. Especially small talk about essentially nothing, though the worst was this—when the topic was my own private business. I really hated talking about that.
“It’ll be about fifteen,” he said with a smile.
Even I had to admit that Sam was attractive enough. Sometimes I thought he was even being a little flirty with me, but I knew it was just because he knew what kind of meds I was on. He was being overly nice as to not offend me, and it was actually more bothersome than not.
He had dark hair with brown eyes and was at least six-one. He was the most attractive man to me only because he was the only man I ever saw, really. I wasn’t sexually attracted to him at all. It was more of an observation than anything.
Nodding at Sam, I proceeded to walk around the store. There were a few things I needed anyway, and I figured I might as well get them while I was here. It would be better than just wasting time doing nothing, and I always felt awkward when I sat there waiting for my prescription to be filled. It was easier and much more calming for me to just walk around the store.
Walking down the cereal aisle, I stood in front of the many boxes. I wasn’t sure what I was in the mood for. It seemed I was never sure about anything anymore. Choosing what I wanted to eat had almost become a daunting task in itself.
Unable to decide, I turned and walked away from the cereal; I didn’t eat breakfast much anyways. I didn’t need it. I walked over to the cold drink section and grabbed myself a Pepsi. I didn’t drink soda much, but when I did, it was always Pepsi, unless I was at a restaurant that didn’t have Pepsi. It was the only time I chose Coke.. A nice cold cola was like a special treat for myself. I then grabbed a four pack of toilet paper, some paper plates, plastic ware, and then some crackers and a few frozen dinners.
Hearing my name over the loudspeaker, I cringed. I hated that so much. To me, it was like everyone in earshot knew what my prescription was, though I knew that wasn’t true. I suppose there were worse prescriptions for me to worry about picking up. Like an anti-psychotic drug, or something to clear up some weird sexually transmitted disease.
“You know the drug facts,” Sam said, flashing another smile at me, as he rang up the bag that held my prescription. “Do you want to pay for the rest of that here?”
“Sure,” I said, as I put my other items down on the counter.
He rang my items up and presented me with the total: $237 dollars. I didn’t have very good insurance, and this prescription cost me $200 every month. It was steep, and I wasn’t even sure why I kept taking it.
“You know, Rachel, there are better options out there than this stuff,” Sam said.
“What do you mean?” I asked, figuring he was talking about the shit food I had grabbed.
“I mean the medication. There are other things that will help you more than these drugs.”
I gave him a small smile, though I was growing increasingly uncomfortable.
“I’m serious. There are natural herbs, plus exercising can really help, too.” As he was bagging up my items I really just wanted to run out of there and get far away. I didn’t want to be talking about any of these things, especially not with my pharmacist. I was going to have to find a new one. There was no way I could do this anymore. I just wanted someone who didn’t try to talk to me.
“I’ll have to do some research then,” I said, using my best fake smile.
“There’s a lot of information out there,” he said, lowering his voice. “I know I’m a pharmacist and should be telling you to take your medication so we can sell you more, but it’s all a joke. I seriously hate my job. I see all of these medications making people worse, and I just think that there’s got to be something else that could be done instead of forcing these pills down people’s throats.”
I smiled to be polite, unsure of what else to do.
“I’m rambling, sorry. Anyway, if you experience any side effects, you know to call your doctor. But you’ve been on them long enough now that you shouldn’t have issues with side effects at all.”
“Thanks,” I said, and grabbed my bags.
“Have a good day, Rachel,” he said with a smile.
“You too,” I said, and walked out of the store. I was relieved to be back outside and have the whole ordeal done and over with.
As I was walking back to my apartment, I noticed a ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the window of a huge art gallery I had always sort of dreamed of working in a place like that. But that was before my life went to complete shit. That was when I loved my life, and I was happy. When I had hopes and dreams, and a life worth living. Now everything just seemed bleak.
I stared at the sign for a moment and thought of going inside to apply. But I was so tired from not getting any sleep the night before that I decided to apply later on. Maybe the next day or maybe the next week. I was going to do it, just not when I was holding so much stuff, and was so tired. I’d hate to go in there looking tired when I was trying to apply for a job. I just didn’t think that would come off okay.
Putting my things on the ground, I entered the number into my phone. I’d think about calling later to ask about the application process and find out more about what the position was. If it turned out to be too good to be true, I would apply right away.
Because maybe Sadie was right. Maybe getting a job would make me feel better, and less like I hated myself.
Gathering my bags, I continued walking toward my apartment. When I got there, I practically threw my apartment door shut. I was so glad to be home again, and felt even more exhausted than I had before I left.
Putting my groceries away, I was careful to hide my bottle of anti-depressants again. That taken care of, I sat on the couch and turned on a mindless TV show. One I had seen many, many times before, and I let myself zone out. I just wanted to forget about everything for a little while.
I didn’t want to think about medications or herbs or jobs. I just wanted to be by myself, and lost in my thoughts. This was where I felt the most comfortable.
Chapter Five
James
On Friday, I was at the office with Nell. I was glad Janice was gone, and to be honest, things were quite a bit different. She wasn’t there making a lot of noise with her chips or her magazines or talking on her phone. Janice aside, I did wish I had someone there to keep an eye on Nell for me. I had hung a sign in the window and placed an ad online, but no one was coming in. I needed to figure out what to do before Nell started school on Monday. I�
�d gotten by this week, but next week I had a lot to get done.
Nell and I were downstairs, in my temporary office. I had moved my laptop down there so I could keep an eye on everything. Since Janice was gone, there was no one to watch the front. I especially needed to do it since I was looking to hire someone and that person could walk in at any moment.
Maybe people just didn’t care about art the way they once did, and that was why I wasn’t getting any bites. My gallery was pretty famous around town though. It was very popular and successful. I was surprised that there weren’t more people trying to apply.
“What’s this, Daddy?” Nell asked me. She was pointing at a sculpture that a client had set up for her upcoming show. It used different colors, metals, and shapes to create what I called a masterpiece. It was my favorite part of the artist’s whole collection.
“That’s a sculpture, baby,” I said to her. I loved to talk with her about art and wanted her to grow up knowing about everything involving art. This world was quickly changing, and art was starting to become a thing of the past. I wanted to make sure my daughter would know the joy and beauty art brought to the world.
“What does it do?” she asked, studying the sculpture hard. She made a fist with her little knuckles and knocked on the side of the sculpture. I wasn’t worried about her breaking it because it was very sturdy. I mostly just really enjoyed watching her study the various pieces of art. She would get the same look of concentration on her face that her mom used to get.
I knew there were emails I should be answering, but it was hard with Nell here. So far, though, she’d only been asking questions. She’d been pretty good about not touching anything. She was a good listener. Her mother would have been so proud of her.
The gallery door opened and a lady in her mid-to-late thirties walked in. She had blonde hair and blue eyes. She also looked like she’d had a fair amount of plastic surgery. Her face looked too fake to be real.
“Hello. How are you?” I asked her. I tried not to stare at her too much. I didn’t want her to think I was attracted to her. But I also didn’t want her to think I was judging her, either. I was, of course, but that was beside the point.
“Hi. I’m doing fine. Is this where I inquire about the job?” she asked. Her voice was a little cold and off-putting, but I didn’t want to write her off just yet. I had learned it was better not to do that.
I studied the woman’s face, hoping to find some semblance of happiness. I was hoping to catch something on her face that told me she was nice. I desperately needed to hire someone, but I didn’t want to settle on someone who was going to be rude. And so far, it was already looking that way. I was a pretty good judge of character.
“Yes, it is. I’m James, the owner.” I reached out to shake her hand.
But she didn’t take my hand, and after an awkward moment, I dropped mine back to my side. I was already seeing where this was headed. She looked at me, then at Nell, and finally back to me.
“There’s a child here,” she said, like we were standing in a strip joint, not an art gallery.
“Yes, she’s my daughter,” I said, and Nell came over to stand beside to me.
“Hi. Are you going to work here?” Nell asked. I loved that she was not shy. She was a very talkative little girl who liked to socialize and get to know people. She liked to figure out what was going on in the world around her, frequently through the cues of adults.
The lady gave Nell a strange look that didn’t sit right with me. Turning to me, she said, “I don’t think children should be in your place of work. That is highly unprofessional.”
“Look, lady, my nanny had a family emergency and had to leave. I have no other options for her right now. I own the place, so I don’t get how that’s unprofessional. It’s not like I’m in the middle of a showing and she’s running around screaming and breaking things.” I already didn’t like this woman.
“Yes, but still it doesn’t look good that you can’t find reliable babysitters or even help for your art gallery. These are things you should have figured out before you opened your doors.”
“Listen, lady. I’ve been open for quite a while now. Some things happened that I had no control over and that has nothing to do with me being a bad business owner or father. I would like it if you would leave now. I would never hire you in a million years.”
The lady looked shocked. “Excuse me? Well, I’d never want to even apply here. It’s unprofessional of you to have your little brat here.”
I clenched my fists to keep from snapping. “Listen, lady. If you want to go on with the rest of your day and not be thrown in jail, I would turn around, walk through that door, and never look back again.”
I put my hand up when she tried to talk again. “I don’t want to hear it,” I said.
With a huff, she turned and walked out of the door with her nose in the air. A sense of relief flushed through my body. I had felt uncomfortable from the moment she had walked in. How dare her tell me that I shouldn’t have my daughter at my place of work. I was the owner, for crying out loud. I could bring my daughter to work with me if I damn well wanted to!
“That lady was mean,” Nell said. She was very observant and smart. She picked up on things so easily.
“I know. Don’t worry, baby, Daddy got rid of her. She won’t come back now,” I said, and bent down to give my daughter a hug. There was a lot more I wanted to say to Nell about the lady, and a lot more I wanted to call her. But, in the end, I figured it wasn’t appropriate. There were things she just didn’t need to hear.
“What’s this piece called, Daddy?” she asked, turning her attention back to the sculpture.
“Decadence is the name of that piece,” I told her.
“Why’s it called that, Daddy? What does that word mean?” she asked.
I always really loved how curious she was about the world. She wanted to know more about things that most five-year-old couldn’t have cared less about. For being so young, she was also quite the wordsmith. If she didn’t know or understand a word, she would ask me the meaning a few times, so that she could understand it.
“I’m not sure. The artist picked the name.” Then I pulled out my phone and Googled the definition. I read it out loud to her. “Decadence means luxurious self-indulgence. In other words, it’s something really fancy that you like.” It was the only way I could think of to describe it to a five-year-old.
“Oh. Like when I name my dollies?” She didn’t have much to say about the definition. And I figured it was because it went right over her head. I figured it would. I didn’t really know how it could do anything but. She was a smart girl, but there was only so much she could understand at this moment time. It made me wonder how she was going to be as she got older, though. Was she still going to be as curious as she was now? I hoped so.
I laughed, “Yes, just like that.”
“What are we going to do when I start school?” Nell asked. She sounded a lot more concerned about this that she should have been. I blamed that on myself. I was always worrying about something, and things seem to brush off on her all the time.
Shrugging, I said, “I have no idea, sweetie. I’m hoping we find something out soon.”
We headed upstairs so I could look for a phone number. I remembered a guy who had come by six months before and said that if I was ever hiring, he would be interested in working for me. I searched for a good five minutes before giving up.
“What are you looking for?” Nell asked as she spun around and around in my office chair.
“A phone number. Stop doing that, sweetie,” I said and continued to dig through some boxes.
“I’m gonna go look at the pretty pictures,” Nell said, and then she stopped spinning, got off the chair, and walked down the stairs.
It was only a few minutes later when I heard footsteps coming back up.
Giving up looking for the phone number, I prepared to head back downstairs just as a younger woman in her mid-to-late twenties came to the
door of my office.
I paused when I saw her. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. She had long sandy blonde hair and the most beautiful dark green eyes. Her beauty took my breath away.
But I was still feeling frustrated with first the rude older lady, and then with not being able to find the number I needed. I didn’t really have the patience to deal with her.
I had to deal with people showing up early for art shows all the time. It was the most frustrating thing for me. For some reason, our people just didn’t understand how to read the time or date on a flyer.
“The art show isn’t until tomorrow,” I said. I didn’t mean to come out sounding so frustrated with her, but I just couldn’t help it. I was already on edge from everything else that was going on, and now here was somebody showing up a day early for the art show. It didn’t even look ready downstairs; I didn’t understand why she would think that it was time.
“Thanks,” she said with a funny look, then she turned around and started to walk out. I felt bad, but I really wanted to find that phone number. I didn’t want to chase her down and deal with any of that. But I was a little curious as to why she was here. The way she’d reacted didn’t seem like she was here for the art show. In fact, she kind of acted like she had no idea there was art show even going on. That’s what I remembered the help wanted sign.
Chapter Six
Rachel
The guy seemed frustrated, and I wasn’t sure whether he was frustrated with me or something else, but I felt awkward. I turned to leave, just ready to get out of there. I wasn’t even sure why I’d showed up in the first place. I walked back down the stairs and headed toward the exit.
I hadn’t meant to upset him and was confused about why he assumed I was there for the art show when there was clearly a help wanted sign in the window.
Daddy Boss (A Boss Romance Love Story) Page 3