Pest by Foscue

Author:Foscue [Foscue, ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Turner Publishing Company

CHAPTER 10

The next morning I found my dad at his desk enjoying a cup of hot coffee, a muffin, and a magazine. It was a cozy setup that should have put him in a relaxed and reasonable mood.

“Hallie, that phone is company property. How could you go and lose it?”

I gave the cover of his magazine a suspicious glance. Just my luck: the latest issue of Reason.

“I didn’t lose it. I know exactly where it is. I just have to arrange a time to pick it up.”

“Okay, that’s nice. And, in the meantime, how are you going to do your job without a phone?”

That was an excellent question, one that concerned me, as well. Autumn had farmed my morning jobs out to a couple of the other technicians. Between that and the hours I’d missed due to the skunk encounter, my weekly paycheck was going to seriously suffer. The evening before, after a call to Irma from the office phone had gone straight to her voicemail, I’d driven all the way back out to Montecito, only to find the driveway gate closed for the night. No one had responded to the buzzer. I’d called Irma again this morning, leaving the office number for callback, and now I was stuck spending quality time with my dad while I waited for a response.

“Maybe Autumn can print out my schedule for me,” I suggested.

Seated at her desk in the outer office, Autumn leaned sideways into my line of sight and gave me a dark look.

“Do you know what a new iPhone costs?” my dad challenged.

I had already checked; replacing it was not an attractive option.

He continued, “This isn’t like you, Hal. This is careless. This is the kind of thing I’d expect of your mother.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” I protested. “The people came home early and threw me out before I could pack up my stuff.”

My dad looked unconvinced. “If you don’t get that phone back, I’m taking it out of your paycheck.”

I took a deep, cleansing breath (conscious breathing had been a favorite technique of our family therapist) and imagined Georgetown University in the fall. There would be big, East-Coasty trees with yellow and orange leaves the size of dinner plates; stately brick buildings; and air so dry it would make my nose tingle. At least, that’s how I imagined it based on the photos in the application brochure and repeated viewings of St. Elmo’s Fire. “Sure, of course,” I replied evenly. I grabbed the printout of my schedule from Autumn and retreated.

“And put an ice pack on your face!” he called after me.

My dad really isn’t a bad guy. Oh, sure, he can be a hardass (especially when he’s been reading his Libertarian propaganda) but he’s a dedicated and fair boss. He always makes time for me if I ask him to, and his exaggerated devotion to personal responsibility means he mostly stays out of my business.

That doesn’t mean I have any desire to live with him for four extra years, however.

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