Page 61 of Grouch-ish

“Anyway, around the time I’d made my final pay-off to the government my rental lease was coming to an end. We’d lost the house to collections. And I was ready for a change.”

She waves down her body, emphasizing her outfit which is her loose-fit white pants and fuzzy white sweater along with thick cabin socks on her feet.

“Thus, the white,” she reminds me. “But I knew I needed more than a wardrobe update. I needed a life shift. Plus, my boss is a dick.”

I chuckle at her vehement dislike. “What’d he do?”

“He’d hit on me one too many times and I was tired of playing nice. I finally told him I was reporting him to HR if he didn’t knock it off. Not to mention, his wife was sweet, and she didn’t deserve someone like him in her life.”

“You threatened him?”

“Not exactly.” She continues to avoid looking at me.

“Well, tell me what exactly.”

“Ever want to throat punch your boss?” Her voice lowers.

“Not literally.” I choke, laughter in my tone again. My boss is her dad, and while I’d had my moments with Cap, and any other authoritative person, I’d never hit someone out of anger. What happened with Dane and me was a joke, outside of the department, and on our private time. However, the incident had created a ruckus within the department as a public display of aggression. Another strike against me.

“Well, I did.” Pear finally turns to look at me.

“You mean you thought about throat punching him?” I ask to clarify but the churn in my stomach tells me there’s more to the story.

“No. I throat punched him.” She imitates by curling her middle finger and ring finger inward, making a bull-like formation with her forefinger and pinky. “Right to the Adam’s apple.”

“Jesus.” I swallow hard as if I can feel the short, quick jab to my neck. “Why did you do that?”

“Because he grabbed my ass.”

“What the fuck?”

“Yep. And that’s when I told him I would report him to HR. After he threatened that he’d report me for assault, he told me I was fired. I told him he didn’t have to fire me. I quit.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.” She sighs again. Her shoulders fall. Her arms cross over her chest. “Life implosion two-point-oh.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and tug her against my side. “Does your dad know all this?” I’d like to assume Cap does, but somehow, I don’t think so.

“Not yet.” Her head falls forward again. “I was hoping to tell him everything when I got here.” She slowly lifts her head, turning her face to me. “He doesn’t know the half of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He knows Reggie and I divorced but he doesn’t know about the money. I didn’t want him to worry. I’d handled it. But now I’m free of that debt and that episode in my life, and I want a fresh start.”

“Sounds like you’re looking for a second chance, more than your life imploded a second time.”

Pear weakly smiles. “Dad is going to be so angry about the details I held back, but I’m hopeful that by telling him I’m moving to Chicago, he won’t be half as upset.”

“You’re moving to Chicago?” Clearly, this decision had been made before her arrival at the farm, before she met me, but a small part of me does a weird hop-skip-tap of my feet in mid-air because she isn’t leaving. She’ll be following me to Chicago.

Well, not following me but living there.

“Where will you live?”

“I was hoping to crash at Dad’s for a little while. Not for long, though, as he only has two bedrooms, and the second room is an office slash den for him.”

I’ve been to Cap’s place. It’s nice but small. The place will be cramped.