Pizza n' Tea: A Weird Combination

4. I Wish...

Fin: Aug 1, 2020

Shaun slowly turns his head up to look at the kitchen lights. "Well, shit." I run to the living room and test the switch for the huge chandelier. Nothing. We check all the lights in the house, but there isn't even a flicker of light.

Shaun pulls out his phone and taps on it a few times. Then heads over to the laptop sitting on a desk in the corner of the living room and turns it on. After a few clicks, he looks up at me. "No internet either."

I sink into the couch in the living room with a sigh and put my head in my hands.

Shaun walks over and stands in front of me. "I thought we were gonna clear out the front. Why are you just sitting there? We gotta get you to work." I look up at him to see him holding out a shovel and a huge jacket at me.

I smile slightly at him and nod. I shrug on the jacket and grab the shovel. "Let's go."

"How the fuck are we supposed to clear this? There isn't even anywhere to place the snow!" I say. Shaun stands there, staring at the snow with his brow wrinkled. It's been twenty minutes and we still haven't gotten anywhere.

"What if...?" Shaun mumbles, rubbing his chin.

"What if...what?"

"Well this is gonna be stupid." He seems to make up his mind as he runs up the stairs.

"Where the hell are you going?" I shout at his disappearing figure.

"What are you doing? Come with me," he shouts back. I raise my eyebrow and cock my head to the side. Wonder what trick he has up his sleeve this time. I take the steps two at a time and race after him. When I get to the top, I turn my head side to side to look for him.

"Over here," he yells out from some room at the end of the hallway. I jog over and stop at the doorway of the room. Boxes and furniture line the walls of the room, leaving the middle empty. Stuffed in the corner of the room is a group of Brute plastic trash cans, next to which is a huge DeWalt table saw.

"What is all this stuff?" I walk over to the trash cans and see some are empty, but most are holding carpentry tools. Upon further inspection, each trashcan is labelled. One says 'hammers,' another writes 'nails.' "Why the heck do you have a giant trashcan full of nail boxes and hammers? Are you planning to build a house or something?" I turn to Shaun with a puzzled look on my face.

"My mom's into woodworking. Loves to build stuff. 'This Old House' is her favorite show. See those tables, dressers, and stuff over there?" he points to all the furniture in the room. "She built all that. She's got a side business selling all this shit. Actually makes decent money with it. She could probably quit her day job. It's crazy."

"Damn, your mom has talent. But what's her job again?" I rack my brain trying to remember what his mom used to do. I'm sure someone mentioned it in high school.

Shaun stares at the trash cans and doesn't reply for a few seconds. "Hm? Oh, my mom? Nothing special. Don't you have to get to work? I was thinking of using these trash cans to put the snow in when we shovel."

I raise my eyebrow. I guess they like their privacy. "Where did you even come up with this idea," I laugh at him.

"You got another idea? Just help me bring these trash cans downstairs," he grumbles.

I drag the trashcan to the foot of the stairs, already out of breath. "Man, these trashcans...are heavier...than I thought. How am I going to bring these down the stairs...?" I say to myself. I think about losing my job for a second and that just fills me with energy. "Ah, let's just get this over with," I squat down and brace myself to pick up the trashcan.

"What are you doing?" Shaun shows up in front of me and puts his hand on my arm. "I got it. I already brought one downstairs, so you can start shoveling first." He lifts the trashcan with ease and heads down the stairs. My lips form an o and I run down after him. Guess I'm just a weakling.

My hands are numb as I wipe the sweat off my brow. I stand back and stare at the five Brutes that are already filled to the brim. I steal a glimpse at the clock in Shaun's living room and my eyes bulge out of their sockets.

"Holy shit, it's already 2:30 pm," I mutter to myself. Stretching my shaking arms out, I grab my shovel and hoist a small bit into the trash can.

I can feel Shaun's eyes on me as I gather less and less snow with every plunge of the shovel. "Hey," Shaun starts. I don't answer. "Hey, Bailey," he repeats, louder.

"Can't talk, kind of busy here."

"Bailey, stop. We've already been doing this for four hours."

"I need to get to work, Shaun. Are you going to help me or not?" I begin to raise my voice. I'm starting to get frustrated. I get angry when I'm frustrated, and things never usually end well. It's probably why most of my friends have stopped calling or texting.

"You need to take a break Bailey. I'm tired, you're probably tired." Shaun puts his hand on my shoulder.

I throw his hand off my shoulder. "I said, I need to get to work! I can't lose this job. I don't expect you to understand, you've probably had everything spoon fed to you since the moment you were born. Well not everyone can afford to kick back their feet and laze about. If you're not going to help me, then get out of my way!" I shovel with a fervor now, determined to get out of this suffocating, rich house that only reminds me of what I can never have.

"Fine! I'm just trying to help, but have it your way! See if I give any shits." He walks off, and I can hear his padded slippers as he stomps up the stairs. Tears blur my vision until I'm seeing double. I throw down the shovel and crouch down on the floor, already wishing I could take back my words.

I wish I could stop getting mad when things don't work out right. Shouldn't I be used to it? Nothing ever seems to go my way, but I still can't control my emotions. It's like a bubbling volcano that just hurts everyone around me.

I stay in that position for a while. We've barely made a dent in the snow. The snow is piled so high that every time we clear a significant amount of space, more snow from the heap just falls. I guess I won't be able to make it to the bubble tea shop today.

Sighing, I hoist myself up and close the front door. Glance at the clock. Already 3:30pm.