Tuesday Tales: From the Word HOT

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Wow! The last week of July. Where has time gone? This week, our prompt is the word HOT. I’m continuing with Pumpkin Spice. Mea culpa for being a few words over the limit.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Stan hissed, clearly missing the point. “Put her in one of those rehab facilities for old people.” He crossed his arms over his puffed-up chest. “She’s an aunt for Christ’s sake. It’s not as if she’s your mother.”

I saw red, my cheeks so hot I could fry eggs on them. “She put her life on hold to raise me. I will not abandon her in her time of need nor shove her in a nursing home to tend bar for you. In fact, I’ve had more than enough of you, this place, and this damn cat suit.” I glanced at the clock. 12:15 p.m. “Since I haven’t had a break since I started my shift at four, I’m clocking out now. Melinda can take over. I’ll leave the costume in the locker room.” If he could be unreasonable, so could I.

“You can’t do that! Quit now without notice, and I’ll see you never work in a bar in Boston again,” he threatened.

That was it. He’d pushed one too many buttons. The temper I’d held onto narrowly exploded. I pulled off the stretchy bracelet that held the key to the cash register and handed it to him. “Have it your way. There’s a dozen martinis all set to go in the blender. Make sure you deposit my last paycheck. Melinda can even have tonight’s tips. I’m out of here.”

I spun on my heel and walked out from behind the bar, his “Anca, don’t you dare walk out on me,” following me out.

I went down to the locker room, stripped off the despised costume, and dressed in the jeans and sweatshirt I’d worn to work. Grabbing the reusable shopping bag still holding the dinner I hadn’t had time to eat, I emptied my locker, slammed the door shut, ignoring the tears slipping down my cheeks. Why was I crying? Certainly not because I was leaving this place. I should’ve left when Mick had.

Grabbing my purse, I went out the back door and headed home. While the idea of staying in Salem didn’t thrill me, the thought of coming back here, my tail tucked between my legs, begging for a job I hated, didn’t excite me either. I’d burned that bridge to the ground. The only thing I could do was move forward. Every journey started with one step, and this was mine.

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales