Love Bank: Jobs From Hell #1

by Ray, Marika

  “Oh, Lucille. Glad you’re here.” Her face brightened into a smile as I moved toward the desk and she actually saw me past the brim of her wide visor. “The welcome sign was graffitied again at some point last night. Damn hooligans are up to no good. I bet it’s them high schoolers. I tried to tell Principal Ratchet that all that safe-sex education was going to be a problem. You can’t take teens’ primary means of releasing tension away from them and expect not to have these things crop up around town.”

  Keva sputtered, not quite used to Poppy the way I was after almost twenty years of having my mail delivered by this robust lady.

  “I thought their primary means of stress reduction was sports, not sex,” I added dryly.

  She swiped her big paw through the air. “Pssh. That’s just what those safe-sexers try to tell you. If everyone got a little more sexy times, I bet that sign would never feel the wrath of a can of spray paint. Mark my word. More sex, less vandalism.”

  I restrained myself from rolling my eyes. “Why don’t you run for office and that can be your tagline?”

  Her jaw dropped open, showing off her many silver fillings. “Damn, Lucille, you might be on to something.”

  Oh dear Lord, I should take my own lesson and keep my damn mouth closed. Only way to shut her down was to move the conversation along to a meatier piece of gossip. Double bonus that it could rally some townspeople to my side. Just in case I needed rallying.

  “Guess what happened here yesterday after you dropped the mail off?”

  Poppy leaned forward, her uniform shirt straining at the buttons across her bosom. For all the walking she did, she kept up an impressive weight. Not that I was judging. A woman shouldn’t be judged by the number on the scale. Ever. It just went to show that all the exercise in the world doesn’t wipe out genetics. Which was why inmates handing over their genetics for future children wasn’t providing the best pedigree.

  I leaned forward too, watching her eyes widen with glee as I kept my voice low.

  “A man came by wanting to make a deposit. Any guesses on who he may have been?”

  Poppy’s mouth flopped several times before she sputtered out a guess. “The mayor? No, no. The police chief?”

  I almost giggled. I knew she’d love this game. “No. An inmate.”

  She gasped and then her head reared back, displaying her double chin. “Noooooo.”

  I nodded. “Yes. As he was released, he stopped by here in his dingy clothes asking for money in exchange for dropping off a deposit. The guy wasn’t even wearing a shirt.”

  Poppy’s head started to shake back and forth. “Oh no. No, no, no, no. That won’t do, Lucille. No woman is gonna come in here and choose sperm of a guy with a record. They want the Stanford graduate with a genius IQ. Tall, dark, and handsome with muscles popping everywhere. That’s what women want.”

  My mind instantly went to a picture of Sample #264’s owner, his legs spread out and his fist not even covering a third of the length of his love stick. That was the sperm women would pay top dollar for. Well, as long as I didn’t tell them about his surly disposition.

  “Lucille?”

  I blinked and Poppy came back into focus, waving her hand in my face.

  “Oh, you poor dear. You’re distraught over the inmate situation. We’ve got to do something about it. I’ll ask around and see if anyone has ideas. Hang in there, sweetie.”

  She patted my arm and hefted her mail back over her shoulder before exiting the clinic, off to spread the gossip equivalent to a big juicy cinnamon roll I’d just given her. She’d couch it in terms of wanting to help, but really it was all about the gossip factor.

  “Thank you, Poppy,” I yelled after her, finally shaking the image from my brain and focusing on what was important: getting my little situation fixed whether Mr. Sutter would help or not. He may have no interest in reining in his little inmates, but the good citizens of Auburn Hill sure would.

  I could take that to the bank.

  * * *

  Due to patient appointments, I ended up taking my lunch break much later than usual.

  “I’m headed out back for lunch, Keva,” I called to the lobby area. Our last patient had just left and I needed some substance before I called the fertility clinic down in San Francisco that’d called for a specific sperm sample. Unfortunately, I did not have sperm from a six-foot-eight male Olympic athlete with a genius IQ. Good luck finding that kind of sample without a hefty price tag and an ironclad contract to remove all paternal rights.

  “Oh! Your mom just called. Do you want me to get her back on the line?” Keva poked her head through the door as I got my lunch out of our tiny refrigerator. Looked just like our sample refrigerators.

  I considered for a second and then decided against it. “No, thank you, I’ll have to call her back later tonight.”

  She was harder to get ahold of than that Olympian sperm sample, but my stomach wasn’t having anything to do with postponing lunch. I loved the woman, but I had to be prepared mentally to talk to her. If you thought I had a thing against men, you should see the giant boulder sitting on Mom’s shoulder. I guess being a single mom to Lavender after a painful divorce and then being abandoned by my biological father while still pregnant with me was enough to turn her against men for all time.

  When I signed on the dotted line to lease this building, I’d made sure I could expand out the back and put in a patio. Some of the things you become starved for as a nurse on twelve-hour shifts at the hospital was fresh air and sunshine. My clinic had to have a back-door patio for employees and clients alike. My mom always had a thing for being in the great outdoors and I guessed that had rubbed off on me.

  I stepped out the back door, letting it swing shut behind me, and took in the biggest breath my lungs could handle. My eyes closed of their own accord and I tilted my head up to the sun. Ahh, pure bliss.

  My lunch today consisted of a leftover Cobb salad I’d made for dinner the night before. I hadn’t eaten much of it due to my stomach being off. And why was my stomach off, you may ask? Too much Mr. Sutter and not enough peace and relaxation. I didn’t deal well with animosity between people. Probably would have boded well for a long-term relationship, but then again, I’d never let a man in close enough to have an argument with me. If I didn’t like a man, I just walked away.

  But the warden?

  I couldn’t walk away. He was next door every day, all day, just sticking me with the needle of his existence. While picking through my dinner, I hadn’t come to any great conclusions. I had zero confidence Mr. Sutter would see the error of his ways and apologize to me or Jesus for his ill manners.

  I popped open the top of my Tupperware container and brushed a leaf off the rattan chair I’d picked out at a flea market and dragged all the way over here. Quite the feat in my little Karmann Ghia convertible. Even got stopped by Chief Waldo with a warning to put a red flag on the back of the chair to warn drivers. That was some baloney considering the cushions on this thing were a bright watermelon color. Pretty sure that was warning enough.

  Sitting down, I dug into my salad, appreciating the way the blue cheese dressing gave the salad a tang that wouldn’t have been there otherwise. Life was too short to eat subpar food.

  That must have been the seagull’s motto as well since one stood stock-still on the back retaining wall, eyeing my salad like it knew I’d lose my focus and that’s when it would swoop in for a tasty treat. Little did he know I had no intention of looking away until I’d inhaled the whole thing. Nothing I hated more than birds with their beady eyes and sharp beaks. Damn things swept right over your head, scaring you, and then they were the ones to crap their pants and leave a mess. Tell me one good thing a bird did for humans. Nothing. That’s what.

  “You can go on back to the beach. I’m eating this whole thing. Not that I need the calories, per se, but it’s damn good and I made it. I earned it. You. Did. Not.”

  That’s right. I was talking to a seagull now. I hadn’t had a best frie
nd since elementary school when Lacy Brown went all boy crazy and ditched me for prettier friends who helped her sneak notes to the most popular boys in school. Lavender was so much older than me, she didn’t want me around much as kids, and when she turned eighteen, she moved to LA and never looked back. My mom had become my best friend, which was great and all, but the minute she retired a few years ago, she’d been traveling all over the world nonstop with her single friends. I was happy for her, but I missed having someone to confide in and someone to share my day with at the end of a long week. My social skills were deteriorating.

  The seagull made eye contact finally, his eyes all knowing, like he really could reason in that pea-sized brain of his. His beak face said “I’m watching you and I know you’ll slip up one day.”

  A loud meow broke the staredown. I wrapped my hands around my dish and only then dared to look down and take in the orange striped cat sauntering into my patio. The poor thing was missing some fur in a few patches, leading me to believe he or she was one of Yedda’s retired cats from next door. The outdoor cats never learned to become indoor cats even though Yedda plied them with treats. Inevitably, someone opened the door and one of them made a run for it.

  “I suppose you want some of my salad too?”

  She—I decided she was a female since males in general were currently/always on my shit list—came right up to me and twined right through my legs, rubbing her fur on my stockings like I was her new scratching post.

  She let out a few more meows, then a hiss when she came out from under the little patio table my heavily guarded salad currently rested on. She crouched down low and hissed again, her gaze directly on the fat seagull on the wall.

  The seagull squawked but took off, flying away from us, thankfully leaving me out of the shit drop zone.

  “Well done, little kitty!” I would have pet her, but a huge sneeze snuck up on me and rattled the metal table, scaring the poor thing. She jumped a foot in the air and then turned around real slow to look at me with a “how dare you?” narrow-eyed gaze.

  I kept my hand over my mouth and nose, that familiar tickle making my eyes water. I was allergic to cats. Unfortunate to have a cat sanctuary situated right next door, but that’s another reason I had air purifiers in every room of my clinic.

  She and I engaged in another staredown, her unblinking eyes eventually creeping me out. What was it with cats? It’s like you could see their hate for you clearly stamped on their bored little faces.

  My hands went tingly and I got a bit lightheaded. Maybe my salad had gone bad in the warm spring sun. My stomach gurgled, prompting me to scrape my chair back and jump up. The kitty jumped too, probably not appreciating my sudden movements. She came closer, then broke my gaze to rub on my legs once more.

  And that was when it hit me.

  I couldn’t just let the citizens of Auburn Hill fight for me. It was up to me, Lucille Eureka, to fight back against mankind—no, scratch that, just the warden of the prison—and demand he keep his inmates out of my business. And the only way to get the attention of a bullheaded man like that was to go in guns blazing.

  I was going to blackmail the warden of the town prison.

  The lightheadedness went away in an instant. In fact, I felt a bubble of excitement worm its way through my body, firing me right up. The clouds parted—metaphorically—and I knew this was the right path to take. I wasn’t going to take this lying down. And why should I? I had evidence Mr. Sutter had a reproductive problem. A man used to barking orders at inmates wasn’t going to want the whole town to know he couldn’t get it up. Well, to be truthful, I knew for a fact he could get it up just fine, thank you very much. But that was neither here nor there. If the town knew he was a patient at the clinic, they would make assumptions. He was either hard up—I loved using that pun—for money, or he was giving a sample to be tested for low sperm count. What other reason would there be for a single, unattached male to jack off in a specimen cup?

  The wind in my sails deflated a gust or two when I realized going public with his little problem would break doctor-patient confidentiality. Then again, I could just let it slip he’d been at the clinic and let the Auburn Hill gossip grapevine work from there. Wasn’t my fault if the game of telephone exaggerated and twisted the details, right?

  The cat meowed again, startling me from my thoughts. She looked right at me, but her eyes had changed. They were less judgey and more “attagirl.” Maybe I was imagining it, but she had that same expression the goat had last weekend.

  Throwing caution to the wind, I leaned down, scooped her up, and walked over to the back door. Spinning quickly, I backtracked to the table to grab my Tupperware and fork. See, Mr. Seagull? I didn’t forget my food, so you can just fly far, far away.

  I marched through the clinic, depositing my container back at my desk and then out into the lobby where Keva clacked away on her computer keyboard.

  “I’m going to—ahhhh’ choo!—take this cat back to—” Another sneeze threatened, so I just pointed over in the general direction of the Cat Society. I needed to get this cat dropped off, take some allergy meds, and put my plan in action.

  Keva winced when another huge sneeze racked my body. Then the cat batted me across the face with her paw, which I didn’t appreciate. Keva choked back a laugh even as I scowled at both her and the cat. Here I was, saving the damn cat, and she bitch-slapped me. Granted, she kept her claws in, but still. Have some respect.

  I held her away from me, even as she hissed and writhed in my grip. I wasn’t taking any chances. I marched right over to the Cat Society, making it inside before the cat flailed out of my hands and landed on all fours. She gave me that eerie hate stare and walked off.

  “Is that you, Lucille?”

  Yedda made her way to the front of the shop, looking like a Big Foot. Cats hung from every body part, making her a patchwork of various cat fur colors. I could see the cat fur floating through the air and trying to coat every surface of me. I shivered.

  When she got close, she took one glance at my grimace-smile and opened a can of something. The cats all jumped off her at once, like whatever was in that can was a cat magnet.

  “Cat nip toy,” Yedda explained.

  She came forward and pulled me into a hug. It was the kind grandmothers gave; all soft and warm and smelling like ointment cream and chocolate chip cookies. Maybe I should hook her up with my sister, Lavender, and see if Yedda wanted to become a Hug Therapist too in case the National Cat Protection Society didn’t work out.

  “Thank you for bringing Poo back, dear.” She released me finally and I pulled back in time to let out another sneeze. “Oh, poor thing. Must be all the dust in the air with the new construction.”

  I held my nose, nodding, even though I could see cat hair floating through the air and catching the light as the sun shined through the window. Yeah, sure, had to be the construction dust.

  “My pleasure,” I answered, all nasally from holding my nose. I wanted to wipe my wet and itchy eyes too, but I knew from experience, that would just make it worse. “She helped me come up with a super idea, so thank you.”

  She smiled. “Animals are such amazing creatures. A little pat here, a little rub there and you’re left with magic.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, that’s the same with my business.”

  She frowned and tilted her head. I rushed on before she could figure it out.

  “Okay, I have to go. Just be careful around here. An inmate decided to enter my shop yesterday, so keep an eye out for tweakers.”

  “Even tweakers might like a lovely cat, Lucille.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe so, but I’d prefer they skip our shops altogether just to be on the safe side.”

  Yedda narrowed her eyes at me and I was afraid I’d really upset her.

  “I have a nephew in Tennessee I think you’d really love. He’s coming out here next month for a visit.”

  Adrenaline shot through my body before my brain even comprehended what she was gearin
g up for. Fight or flight was in full swing by the time she got to the point.

  “Would you mind if I introduced you two?” She smiled at me so sweetly, I wanted to say yes for a fraction of a second.

  Thankfully, I had the strength of a goat challenge and a brush with a brilliant-but-insane cat fueling me at the time. These damn animals really were magical.

  “I’m so sorry, Yedda, but I’m currently dating myself.” I didn’t even blink.

  “I’m sorry, what, dear?” she sputtered.

  I sneezed again, which caused the water in my eyes to finally give up the fight and slide down my cheeks. “I’m dating myself. You know, getting to know me before I try to date anyone else.”

  I must have found Yedda’s kryptonite. She saw the tears streaming down my cheeks and pulled me in for another hug.

  “Oh, that’s such a smart thing to do. Don’t cry, dear. You’re going to find yourself before you even know it.”

  She patted my back and I hoped the chuckle that escaped my mouth sounded like a sob.

  I finally disentangled myself and backed out of the building, careful not to let one of the beasts out when I opened the door. My skirt got caught and I had to open it again to yank it free, but no cats. Mission accomplished.

  Now on to the allergy meds and blackmail.

  I may have whistled a tune as I made my way back to my clinic, only giving up when I could no longer breathe. Fun fact: it was hard to whistle and walk at the same time when you couldn’t breathe through your nose. But the joy remained.

  I was practically giddy.

  6

  Bain

  I woke up groggy and feeling like I somehow transported overnight to the future where I was knocking on the door to eighty years old. Every muscle screamed at me as I stretched and stood out of bed. Thank the good Lord, it was finally Friday.