8
Meredith tried not to stare
at Eric, but Alana had got her thinking. Was he really like that in bed?
“You’re
coloring everywhere! I told you not to do that! You never listen to me!”
Meredith casually glanced over at the window. The Mom-inator was at it again.
This time she’d been nice enough to get her girls a special treat: a round of
sugar cookies. But then she’d buried her nose in a magazine while they got out
their coloring books and went to town.
“You never
listen!” the woman said. “I know you can hear me! Now there is crayon all over
the table. You girls are behaving so poorly! I can’t believe it.”
Meredith’s
eyes roved to Eric. He was watching the scene himself with a neutral expression
and his arms folded.
“That’s it!
We are not going to color anymore while we are out somewhere!” Mom-inator woman
said. She had stood up and was frantically gathering the toys, crayons, and
coloring books, while her girls had lowered their heads and were looking at the
table.
“If you
can’t behave, we can’t go anywhere! I bring you out on this special adventure,
and this is what you do?”
Meredith
couldn’t stand it. The girls were so young
and close to tears. The mother was running all over them for something minor.
She grabbed
a wet towel from the sink and stepped out from behind the counter. “Ma’am, it’s
really no big deal.”
The
Mom-inator stopped what she was doing and slowly owled her head to look at
Meredith. She had perfect hair and perfect teeth and she was a size zero, of
course, and her jewelry was expensive. She was one of those types that hadn’t
worked a day in her life, who had nothing to do but be a good mother, and she
was utterly terrible to her kids.
“How dare
you,” the Mom-inator said.
Meredith
felt her anger rise, like bile in her stomach. She told herself to keep calm.
“These tables wipe down easily. Food, coffee, crayons, even markers…it’s not a
big deal.”
“That’s
great!” the woman said. “You’ve just told my children that it’s okay for them
to draw on tables, the exact thing I’m telling them not to do. That’s perfect!”
Meredith
was ready to explode. She took a calming breath and looked briefly away. Eric
had turned from the scene and was absorbed by his laptop again. What a coward.
Meredith
said, “Your girls are so young and—”
“Do you
have kids?”
“No.”
“Then you
really have no idea, do you? Where’s your manager? I want to speak to him.”
9
Eric reread the ten pages
he’d written. The words had come haltingly all afternoon, but they had felt
okay as he was writing them.
But looking
at them now, he realized with profound disappointment they were crap. In the
span of ten pages, he’d flashed back twice, gave away an entire character’s
backstory in one massive info-dump, and telegraphed about three different
endings. And he had no idea where to go next in the story.
He saved it
and moved it into his Could Be Made Good
folder. But even that classification was being generous.
John had
texted him six times this afternoon to follow-up about the conference. They
must have been really desperate. Eric wasn’t even in the barrel to be
considered at the bottom of it.
And he was self-published.
Which was
such a divisive topic these days. The topic attracted such ardent proponents
and venomous detractors. He didn’t want to insert himself in any real way into
that debate. He preferred just writing his books and honing his craft. He
didn’t yearn to carry a banner or be a spokesman. He knew that as soon as the
subject came up, whatever panel he was on would get immediately derailed and
the two sides would retreat into their not-so-neutral corners.
But John
was his friend, despite how much he drove Eric nuts when it came to writing.
And to John’s point, maybe being around other writers in a different
environment would spark some new ideas.
Right now
he was willing to try anything.
He was
about to text John when he looked up and saw Meredith / Awesome standing next
to his table.
“Do you
mind if I join you?” she asked.
“Are you
off-duty?” He noticed her apron was conspicuously absent.
Weak joke,
but she smiled anyway. Meredith sat and put her iced coffee on the wobbly
table.
“Am I the
crazy one?” she said.
He didn’t
know how to answer that without getting himself in trouble.
Meredith
sipped her coffee. “You saw that mom today, right?”
“The one
with the three girls?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t
think I was that out of line…” She put her coffee down and crossed her legs at
the knee.
Eric hadn’t
really been paying attention and couldn’t remember the details now. He recalled
the mom being short with her kids and Meredith, very unwisely, stepping in.
“She was
just disciplining them.”
Meredith
looked at him from across her face. “Browbeating is more like it. Girls already
suffer from self-esteem issues. Talking to them like that will hurt more than
help.”
Eric said
nothing. He got the sense she was always doing this: getting on some soap-box
or another.
“You heard
her,” Meredith said. “You know I’m right.”
She was
angry about something and directing it at him. He couldn’t help but take the
bait.
“I’ll bet
that mother tells them five times a day not to color on tables. Today was
probably the thousandth time she’s given that instruction. I can see why she’d
get angry.”
“So you were listening.”
Eric put
his palms up. “That was all I caught.”
“But
there’s a better way to talk to children so they don’t grow up hating
themselves. Because that’s just what the world needs.”
He said
nothing. He really wasn’t in any mood to talk and wondered why she’d decided to
join him. It was clear she didn’t like him. But maybe she was like that: she
felt compelled to engage people she couldn’t stand.
He was just
the opposite. He thought life was too short to hang out with people that drove
you nuts.
He stood.
“Well, I’ve gotta head out.”
“What are
you working on?” She bobbed her chin at his laptop.
“Oh, this
and that.” He loved what he did but hated discussing it with people. Writers
were bores and he didn’t want to fall into that trapping.
“How is this and that going?” she said.
“It’s
going.” He smiled and put his laptop away. “Just not sure where.”
She just
stared at him, like he wasn’t allowed to leave.
“Okay, see
you later,” he said.
“Meredith,
who’s your friend?”
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