Tell Me a Story

Chapter 3

"Don't feel like you have to jump on this. You have time. Plenty, actually." 

Meera's voice seemed laced with concern, but she was at work where she might be handling a million different issues, so I tried not to read into it.

"Plenty? I thought you were gone by the end of the month."

"Yeah, well, the buyers move in date isn't for three months, and David is going to be away for most of February. So, I was thinking I might stick around a little longer."

"Is everything okay?"

"Oh, of course. I just didn't feel like spending all that time alone in the new place when I could stay here."

I doodled on the folder containing the lease, kicking at the old carpet with my toe pick as I weighed the option of staying put for another month or two. My rent was super cheap at Meera's, and it would mean more time together before she moved away. On the other hand, there was no way a find like this apartment was going to last, let alone pop up again.

"I'll think about it, Meera. I have to decide by tomorrow, but I promise to give it some thought."

"Good. I just don't want you to feel rushed." Meera stayed quiet for a moment, the sound of her nails tapping away on her laptop filling the silence. "So, where are you hiding that George isn't hovering around ordering you off the phone?"

"Oh, I'm not hiding. He called me on my way in and said he didn't see the point in coming in tonight."

"The point? Aside from the part where it's his job?"

"I know. I'll be here a little later, but honestly, I'd rather be locking up alone than dealing with him all night."

"I still don't get why you didn't quit after his dad passed."

It was a sore subject, one I definitely wasn't in the mood to poke at while I had bigger things on my mind.

"Let's not." The sounds of the keyboard halted and I imagined Meera throwing her hands up. I looked up to see a group walking in, a sea of polos, khakis, and equipment bags. "I have to run. I'll catch up with you later."

"Okay. I'll probably still be working on this brief when you get home, so I'll see you then. Be careful by yourself tonight."

"Always."

I slid the phone in my pocket and leaned against the rental counter. Monday nights were easy at the rink. It was private skate, reserved for a regular pick-up hockey game. No equipment rentals, no worrying about inexperienced skaters crashing into each other and trying to blame the facility, just a group of guys blowing off steam on the ice.

"Hey, Katerina." 

I rolled my eyes and smiled.

"You're gonna behave yourself tonight, Anton, right? I don't want to see you in the penalty box all night."

He laughed, laying his already heavy accent on extra thick.

"Not in my nature."

"Of course. Prastite."

Anton laughed harder and slapped me on the back. 

"Ahhh, kotik. Your Russian is getting better."

"Hey," I interrupted, glancing past Anton's shoulder, "who's the new guy over there?"

I nodded in the direction of a man leaning against the wall. He was dressed to play, talking on the phone and glancing our way occasionally while the other guys began to gather on the ice.