Falk Clan Tales - Chapter 57: Chapter 57

Utterly grossed out, Jozette got up and dumped the remnants of her tea down the drain, rinsing and washing the cup dutifully. Marissa was gasping for air and wiping her eyes because she was laughing so hard.
Super beyotch.
“Okay, okay. I am sorry for using the m word. Do you wanna talk about what happened with Larry? You never told me the whole story.”
“I don’t think so, Mar. I mean, it’s not them. It’s me!”
“Jozette! That is not true.”
“Of course it is,” she said, grabbing another biscotti.
She deserved it. Heaven, she thought, and moaned around her mouthful of yummy goodness.
“These are really great, by the way,” she mumbled, so as not to drop any.
“Thanks,” Marissa replied, looking pleased with herself.
“So, me and Larry⁠—”
“The unemployed loser who looked a little like Ernest Borgnine after he ate too much,” Marissa chimed in unhelpfully.
“Anyway,” Jozi said, rolling her eyes.
“Larry announced his leaving with a text that said, ‘found someone else, get your things out by noon’.”
“Oooh, ouch.”
“Yes, ouch. Add that to the fact I’ve worked in the same bookstore since college, and had to return to my parents’ house, it doesn’t exactly amount to hey check me out I am quite the catch.”
“Jozi—”
“No, no, look, I am being a realist here, Mar. I am not cut out for men or sex. I mean, men find me boring. Just look at me,” she indicated her thermal Henley and baggy jeans.
“You could use new clothes,” Marissa replied.
Her best friend’s stylish apparel was always up to date and perfect whatever the occasion. She currently wore a pair of tailored brown pants with a sage colored blouse and an ivory scarf. Her blonde curls were piled on top of her head in a seemingly careless bun, but Jozi knew differently.
Her bestie had taken at least thirty minutes to create that just rolled off a hot guy look. Her sun kissed cheeks, despite the snow on the ground, and pouty pink lips were perfect as always. Marissa looked beautiful. And Jozette, well, she looked clean at least.
“I don’t care about clothes, Mar. Besides, I am going to use this time while my parents are away to work on my book. I just can’t seem to get anywhere with it.”
“It has been years, you know. Maybe time to give up on the whole history thing⁠—”
“OUCH! That hurts, you know,” she grumbled.
“I’m sorry! Look, I just mean write something not so, you know, blah.”
“Really?”
“If you can’t get anywhere with it, maybe you should switch genres or something. Just cause your parents think nonfiction is the only thing worth writing⁠—”
“I know, I know. I must have some serious writers’ block or something,” she said, frowning.
“I just want you to be happy, Jozi. I promise I won’t say another word about dating, okay? Come on, forgive me?”
“There is nothing to forgive. I’ll figure it out,” she murmured.
Marissa worried her lower lip, but Jozette stuck her tongue out and soon both women were smiling. She took another bite of biscotti, then cleared the table and refilled the electric kettle. Of course, she was not insulted. Marissa was like family, for Pete’s sake.
Despite being friends, they were as opposite as any pair of women could be. Marissa was tiny and petite. Every man’s dream of a woman with her size two waist, natural blonde hair, and an excellent job as a financial analyst for Eat Well Live Proud. The international company was renowned as one of the world’s largest meat and fish importers and exporters.
“Enough about me. How are things at work?” Jozette pretended an interest while Marissa jumped into a detailed account of her office interactions with Hector, the hottie, and Stella, the bitch.
An hour and a potful of tea later, Marissa left her bestie with air kisses and a hug.
“Don’t give up on love yet, Jozi. You never can tell.”
“Yeah, yeah. Stop by the store later if you have time.”
“Are you doing the story hour today?”
“Yep. As long as my boss has morning sickness, it is all up to me to keep the kids of Maccon City entertained,” she joked.
“Alright, maybe I will stop by. I told Hector I could assist him in shopping for a birthday gift for his nephew. Books might be a great place to start,” she said, wagging her perfectly tweezed eyebrows up and down.
Jozette laughed and shook her head. The woman was incorrigible, but she loved her like a sister. Not having any would do that, Marissa had informed her. She had three herself and assured Jozette sibling rivalry simply was not worth it.
Being an only child was terribly lonely at times. It was why she’d become such an avid reader. Of course, both her parents were older when they’d had her. Her mother had turned forty and her father was forty-eight when she’d been born.
Both were professors at a nearby private college and had never planned on marriage, let alone children. The problem with being an only child to older parents who worked in education was they felt the need to explain everything.
So, from the time she was very young, Jozette understood she was unplanned, therefore, had no right to infringe on their life plans. Oh, they loved her. At least, she was assured they did. But they were not openly affectionate. There was no hugging, kissing, and petting as a child. She was given gold stars on a calendar when she did something right, and told with unerring accuracy to the detail when and why she was wrong.
Okay, for a college student, maybe. Not so much for a preschooler. One particular memory was the time she had come home from school after losing her first tooth with a picture she had drawn of the tooth fairy.
Three year old Jozette had been so proud of the purple and blue drawing. She’d made it in the school nurse’s office while waiting for her babysitter to come get her.
When her parents had come home that evening, they did not place it on the fridge like the other kids had talked about. Instead, they sat her down and told her there was no such thing as the tooth fairy.
Or the Easter bunny. Or Santa.
Yep. Her parents had effectively murdered all fairytale and fantastic creatures for Jozette when she was still tender aged.
“And I wonder why I’m fucked up,” she muttered and went to dress for work.
Heck.
Her parents hadn’t even planned for her to stay in their new house at all. There was only one spare bedroom which her mother had made into a bird lovers’ library. Pictures of sparrows, seagulls, and other feathered critters crowded the walls. Jozi wasn’t exactly fond of them with their pointy beaks and sharp looking talons. In fact, she was kind of afraid of birds. Blame it on that old movie, or whatever. It was just another thing for her parents to dislike about her.
Sigh.
The good news was there were tons of books on the hand-carved shelves inside the room she was sleeping in. The bad news was that only left room for a very small pull out couch. Uncomfortable was the word that immediately came to mind. The mattress was thin and lumpy, and she felt every spring as if it were digging into her spine.
Jozette had a mattress. A nice double firm queen sized one, but like everything else she owned, it was currently in storage. Her job was steady, but it did not pay very much, and rent was sky high in this part of the state. But she did not know how much longer she could take all this.
In a few weeks, her parents would be back, and Jozette had some serious thinking to do. She couldn’t go on like this. It was unfair to them and not so fun for her.
“One day at a time,” she murmured and headed out to work.
Story time at Crescent Moon Books was her favorite part of the day. Ever since her bosses Clara and Delia Crescent had hired her, she’d been enthralled by the daily tradition.
Recently, Jozette convinced the sisters to let her add another story hour to their workday. They already had ten and eleven covered, so Jozette had asked to try one at two in the afternoon. With a special emphasis on dragons and myths, her story time hour had become a fast favorite of some of the local children.
Once a month, Jozette brought in crayons and paper and had the kids draw their favorite characters. Afterwards, she would hang them on the community bulletin board at the front of the shop. A way for the kids to show off their work to their parents and nannies who brought them.
Usually, those happy parents turned into paying customers. Something most small bookstores needed more of. As long as the kids and her bosses were happy, Jozette was happy. It was a win-win.
If only the position was full time. Maybe then she could move out of her parents’ home and sleep on something other than a sofa bed. And if she was a very good girl, maybe she wouldn’t have to sleep in her new bed alone.
Hmmm. That would be very nice.
She stopped her silliness with a shrug. No more men. She was through with them. Not like they were banging down her door, anyway. Not the way she looked with her difficult to tame, curly dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, a bomber jacket covering her plain thermal, and her baggy jeans tucked into her snow boots.
Jozette was ready to battle the elements, but not the dating scene. Nope. Not now. Maybe not ever.
One day at a time, she reminded herself as she got inside the same small used compact car she’d had for years. It still ran and sure beat walking in this weather, and that was all that really mattered to her.
One day, when her book was finished, and she wasn’t living in her parents’ house, then she would revisit the dating thing. When she had a few successes under her belt and didn’t feel like a complete and utter failure at life. Someday in the future she would consider looking for a partner to traverse through life with.
Someday, she thought.
Just not now.