“No child should be sad on their birthday.”
It’s a book, shaded in the color of crimson with gold leaf on the border. It’s beautiful.
twenty-eight
Rory
“AmIintrouble?”I question, striding into Abram’s office at Hardin.
It’s Saturday, and Hailey and I plan on going to the hellhounds game together. It’s a weekend game away, so it’s starting earlier than a typical one. Plus, factor in the drive and I need to leave soon.
Our agreement is that I have to be at every home game, but I’ve found I enjoy watching the hellhounds play. Plus, Hailey was all up for the little road trip an hour away when I mentioned it.
I’m beginning to understand why Finn talks about basketball so much. The game is a rush. Basketball is a sport that requires not only skill but also the trust and knowledge of your teammates.
Every member has a role, respected with equal talent.
Finn is the best player overall. Playing multiple positions this season has proven his strength in the game. He’s aggressive but agile. Eli might be leaner than the other two, but he is the strongest. Defending post like it’s an obligation.
Cole’s leadership, like everything else he does, comes naturally. Combine his strategy with passing the ball and his vision to create openings, the teams unstoppable.
“I feel like I’m being called to the principal’s office,” I quip.
“Good, I was hoping you hadn’t left yet.”
“Hailey’s expecting me to meet her at her house and head out from there.” Hinting to Abram that I can’t stay long.
“I want to talk to you about something.” His posture is stiff, shoulders straight. It’s of convenience rather than sincerity.
The tendons at my back grow taut.
My one task of signing in a package came in a while ago. It’s a Saturday, so there isn’t as much to do since most people work Monday through Friday.
Most being the operative word. Abram is an anomaly.
Before he called me up, I’d been sitting waiting to leave so I could go pick up Hailey. I could have sorted the outgoing mail to drop off, but I’d already done that yesterday.
The job is pretty straightforward, sort, send out, sign in, repeat and I like it. Even if I do find myself twiddling my thumbs more consistently than when I worked at Alma’s diner.
“Don’t think that because you’re eighteen now, I can’t be upset with you for getting a job here.”
I open my mouth to rebut, but he lifts a pointed finger, and it snaps closed.
“I’m not angry that you want to work here. It’s actually a relief to me that you find yourself taking an interest in the business. What I have a problem with is how you went about it. Sneaky, and behind my back.”
“Isn’t it more impressive that I got the job on my own merit and not because I know the boss?” I argue.
Besides, I’ve always had to do things in the past myself, finding a job no exception. He should be grateful—they all should—that I applied here and not somewhere else.
That I know for a fact would have been a bigger argument.
“Connections would have gotten me in, sure, but I don’t need them for where I am. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“To get a job in the mail room, I guess not.” Abram’s lip twitches like he’s trying not to smile. He looks almost impressed by my willingness to argue my stance.
“Exactly.”
“You may not think you need them and maybe you don’t, but connections are what run not only this business but the world.” Words as rational as they are wise.