When I went outside to start the car, it was still sort of dark outside; even the sun wasn’t fully up yet. Awesome. As I listened to some animal chirping away in the distance, I considered getting in the car and driving back to Seattle. Would that be running away or running home? I had no idea, but I knew it wouldn’t solve my immediate money problems, so I scrapped the idea.
When I got to work, I instantly realized I wouldn’t get through this with any of my dignity still intact. “Okay, grunt, you listening, ’cause I don’t want to have to explain this twice.” I nodded so my “instructor” would get on with the mindless orientation. “You take this wrench, and when this piece comes down your line, you insert ten bolts in these ten holes, then tighten them. You send that piece on its merry way, then start on the next one. Sound like something you can handle, newbie?”
I gave him a blank stare. “Putting in ten bolts and tightening them? Yeah, I think I can manage that.”
He clapped me on the back so hard, I stumbled forward a little. “Great. Don’t mess up the rest of production by being a slow ass. Break is at eleven sharp. Try not to nod off.”
With that, he left me to my menial task. I’ll admit, the first piece was a challenge, and I let out some sailor-worthy curses, especially when I pinched my finger and started bleeding, but by my seven millionth bolt, I could have done it with my eyes closed.
My mind wandered while I worked. I pictured myself onstage at Pete’s, the guys beside me and a horde of adoring fans in front of me. Remembering that time made an ache expand inside my chest. It was painful, and I wanted to think of something else to get rid of it, but I apparently wasn’t done torturing myself, because my mind wouldn’t let go of the memory of hopping offstage.
Matt squeezed my shoulder and told me I’d done awesome. Evan gave me a thumbs-up before wrapping Jenny in a hug, and Kellan gave me a bright smile and asked if I wanted a beer. It felt like a million years ago, and yet, at the same time, it seemed like only yesterday.
With nothing to do with my mind during work, I had daydream upon daydream during my shift. A lot of them were centered on the band, but even more were about my wife. Her eyes filled my mind, her laugh filled my ears, and her body…well, let’s just say it was a good thing the work table was hiding everything below my waist.
I kept picturing moments we’d had together. Our first kiss, dancing in the middle of my old living room. Then pulling her into my bedroom and stripping her bare. Her body had blown my mind. She was everything I loved in a woman, wrapped up in one perfect person. And she was just as dirty as me. She was game for anything I wanted to try, anything I wanted to do. She was exactly what I’d wanted in a partner…and I’d let her leave. As the day wore on, it got harder and harder to remember just why I’d done that. Anna was the right girl for me. She was the only girl for me. Then why are you still here?
By the end of my shift, I wasn’t sure what hurt worse, my head or my hands. They were so raw, it was hard to hold the steering wheel on the drive home; even my blisters had blisters. After the noise from the factory all day, the anticipation of the chaos waiting for me at my parents’ busy house was almost intolerable. Dustin was finally home, and we were all celebrating. I was happy for my sister, but I really wasn’t in a partying mood. My feet felt like lead weights, my arms felt like rubber, and my heart…well, that was just fucked.
When I stepped into the house, I cringed at the noise. Kids were running, screaming, and banging pots and pans together. Adults were laughing, barking at the kids, and telling stories at about five times the necessary volume. The chaos of my family used to never bother me, but at the moment, it was hell. Pure, life-sucking hell. It made me miss my quiet foursome all the more.
I was dirty, smelly, and mentally drained, so I darted to my room before anyone could stop me.
My mom bellowed at me when dinner was done, and I knew by her tone that I had better sit down with the family. Hiding out the entire night in my room was not an option. Used to large gatherings, Mom had the longest table known to man in her dining room. It still wasn’t big enough for all of us though, and a couple of folding tables were set up for the kids. It was like Thanksgiving on crack.
After helping Mom set the table, because not helping wasn’t an option either, I took a spot next to Dustin and mumbled a polite greeting. Chelsey was on his other side, beaming up at him like he was the center of her universe, and maybe he was. She certainly hadn’t looked this at peace while he’d been gone. It made me think of my own universe and how a huge piece of it was missing.
Mom set down heaping bowls of cut tomatoes, avocados, olives, onions, and lettuce. Then she brought out about five pounds of ground beef and enough tortillas to tile the entire house…and I didn’t want any of it. Eating sounded about as appealing as licking the toilet seat. After Liam had used it.
I made a plate, ’cause I knew Mom would flip a lid if I didn’t, but as the rest of my family dug into their tacos, I only nibbled on a piece of lettuce. Everyone asked Dustin about his time away, which allowed me to sit and stew in silence. I didn’t want them to ask about my first day. I didn’t want to think about my first day. Or my second, third, fourth…
Luck wasn’t with me though. As soon as Dustin had a break in recounting his heroics, he asked me, “So, Griffin, Chesley tells me you changed jobs, and today was your first day. How was it? Anybody recognize you from the band? Ask for a signature?”
By the look on his face, I knew he sincerely meant that. He didn’t realize the way people saw me now. The way the general public saw me. I didn’t want to tell him either. It was embarrassing to admit that I had been recognized…and laughed at.