Page 10

Now, though, I was here.

“Ah, fuck. I’m out of lives,” the guy in the cubicle next to me whined.

I shook my head, checking the digital work orders on my docket.

My phone pinged with a text, and since it could only be Carly, I slid it closer.

Carly: Did you make it on time today?

Louisa: Almost. Owen isn’t here yet, so I didn’t have to deal with him.

She sent a GIF of someone rolling their eyes.

My coworkers lamented about not having any more lives again, and I wished that I could just have my life back. Without debt and with the chance to just be a present mother for Brady. Stuck in a rut of wishing I could be home with him, I got distracted even more and scrolled through pictures of him. When he was goofy and silly. When he was quiet and pensive as he read. And when he’d want to snuggle and get “selvies” of us together, how he used to say “selfies” when he struggled with the f sound for a while.

“If you come to work, expect to do something,” Owen snarled.

I flinched at his voice, startled to find him looming over me, at the opening of my cubicle. I hadn’t realized he’d shown up. And of course he’d come right when I was looking at my phone while I waited for my log-in credentials to boot up my access to the vast database.

“You can’t just be on your phone while you’re on the clock.” He narrowed his eyes at me while the guy next to me cheered that he’d unlocked another level.

I bit the inside of my cheek.

The irony kills me.

I set my phone facedown and faced the monitors. He huffed and walked off.

Asshole.

A couple of hours later, I had a break, so I headed to the staff room to facetime Brady.

“I miss you, Mama,” he said while Carly tucked him into his bed. He’d go to her apartment for most of the night, but then she’d bring him back to ours so he could fall asleep in his own bed.

“I miss you, too,” I told him, uncharacteristically sad to be apart from him. Maybe it was due to how I was looking at schools for him already. It was a year out, but he’d be in school soon and I’d still be losing my nights by being here and not at home. No day shifts were opening anytime soon, and I didn’t have seniority to be chosen for one if any were to be available.

“Carly found me another book to read,” he told me with a big smile. “About pirates!” He held up the book that she’d gotten at the library earlier.

We joked a little bit with pirate jokes that were written on the back cover, and Carly and I both helped him sound out the harder words. He was already so good at reading and writing. I wondered if he’d need advanced instruction when he got into school.

As soon as I had to end the call with my break time over, I fell further into a pit of hating to be here. I wasn’t doing any good for society. I was just passing time. Another glance at the clock in my cubicle hinted that the night wasn’t even close to being over, though, and I groaned lightly.

I hate this.

I can’t stand this.

Full of negative energy, I opened my staff email access and drafted a mock resignation. Just to humor myself and maybe get out of this funk.

Dear Owen and other sexist jerks,

I loathe every second I spend in this building and hereby would like to put in my notice of resignation. I quit. Effective immediately. I would prefer to focus on being a mother to my son and to never, ever have to see any of you ever again.

Good riddance.

Go to hell.

Farewell,

Louisa Emerson