Without looking, I shove it away, “No. I. Have. It.” But the steam as I clean will not be contained. “Do you think we’re all just here to serve your whims, desperate to please you?” I stop, hairs short of an angry screech. He comes forward with more napkins. I shove his hand away again. “Don’t. Bother. Just sit back and demand you chauvinistic, self-centered, pompous,” a word forms, I won’t succumb, “I. Will. Do. This. My. Self.” Alison arrives with a new tray, tries to intervene and make amends. Navy shifts, “It’s not your apology, Alison. I think everything is back in order.” He slides the first tray to her, cups and utensils neatly placed. Alison eases, “I’m so sorry Kathryn, your order is almost ready. To go, right?” Humbled, I nod and consider adding something new or changing the apple to a banana. But I feel the heat of Navy’s look. Alison’s eyes dart back and forth. I hand her the money. Navy clears his throat, my files in his hand. “Kathryn, I apologize. It appears I’ve offended you. I think your files were caught in time.” I yank them away. He teases arrogance, “Are you not going to look at me, Kathryn?” “No!” Size Two patent leather shoes stomp with my 22-year-old tantrum. “All right,” he studies, “it appears I’ve done some damage here. Again, my apologies, I’m truly sorry.” I tune him out, take the bag, chisel my thank you smile to Alison and huff away. But new horrors await. I cringe as her face appears at the door. “OH MY GOD!” Beth’s inner Italian mother fills the café. She hugs and elates, “I’m so PROUD of you Kathryn, you ARE making changes!” The Rules of Life by Melissa Abbott-Cooke. Contact: Melissa@therulesoflifebook.com 615-669-5643 22
Clenched behind my jaws of steel, “Not. Now. Beth.” I storm out and onto North Fairbanks. The Rules of Life by Melissa Abbott-Cooke. Contact: Melissa@therulesoflifebook.com 615-669-5643 23
- Page 1 and 2: Prelude Kathryn - August 2016 Life
- Page 3 and 4: where a cellophane sheet of water c
- Page 5 and 6: 2. Life isn’t a fairytale. People
- Page 7 and 8: 1,2, 1,2, The Creative Voice inside
- Page 9 and 10: Flung to my knees at the end of my
- Page 11 and 12: “Oh! Jason stopped by to give me
- Page 13 and 14: attle cry wails. Steeled determinat
- Page 15 and 16: Moments later, I knock quietly unde
- Page 17 and 18: aked apples and berries. Angst and
- Page 19 and 20: “My, you get yourself worked up m
- Page 21: Her cheeks flame, “I’m, I’m s
- Page 25 and 26: He looks up and smiles, like a play
- Page 27 and 28: My Hulme bag thunks to the floor. L
- Page 29 and 30: “It was different when you heard
- Page 31 and 32: lind to the subterfuge, but we get
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