Melt Your Headaches, Call It Work

Ryan and I sat down in the living room while Georgie had ran outside to play on the play structure with their dog, Hobo. (“She used to live like one,” Ryan explained after seeing my quizzical glance. “She smelled, got fed like, once a day, and was dragged from place to place. She was my hobo.”)

“Basically, if you were to get the job,” Ryan informed me after he had quizzed and written down all of the important things to know about me, “you’d be caring for Georgie while I’m working. I’m an playwright, so it’s hard to work when you have a five and a half year old running around.” I grinned, while he continued. “She starts kindergarten on September first, and that’s only from nine-thirty till twelve-thirty, so you’d take her there and pick her up.”

“Sounds good so far,” I shrugged.

“You’d also be living in one of the guestrooms, your pick, and whatever’s here is welcome for your use, including TV, phone, and cars. You’d have Friday nights off and Sunday morning, as well as all major holidays, of course. I’d pay you $450 a week, and include health care.” Outside, Georgie was hanging upside down from one of the bars, her long hair still dripping onto the tanbark. “Any questions?”

“None that I can think of, other than when will you call me if I get the job or not?”

“Sometime next week,” he nodded. “Oh, and before we end this, do you have any history of police records, drug history, stuff like that? And I will be having a background check preformed on you, just so you know.”

“Other than the fact that my dad’s an officer, nope,” I smiled. “Nothing like that.”

“Good,” he grinned, obviously relieved. “Well, I’ll call Georgie so you can say goodbye.” He stood quickly, as did I, and walked to the large ceiling to floor windows and the sliding glass doors, opened them, and called out to Georgie, who flipped to her feet and raced inside. Georgie threw herself against my legs, clutching them tightly.

“Don’t go!” she cried, pressing herself further against my legs. “I want you to stay!” I patted the top of her head before pulling her away from me so I could lift her up, ignoring the wet swimsuit.

“I wish I could, but I have to get home,” I sighed, looking straight into her eyes. “But I promise that I’ll be back and we’ll play all day, okay?” She bit her lip, thinking it over before sticking her pinky in my face.

“Pinky promise?” she asked me seriously. I linked my finger with hers, smiling.

“Pinky promise, and I cross my heart and hope to die.” Giggling, she tossed her arms around my neck and held me fast. I held her just as close, rocking back and forth gently before lowering her to the ground. “I have to go now, Georgie.”

Ryan took her from my arms and walked me to the door, kissing the side of Georgie’s head. I opened the door, waved goodbye, and tripped over the doorframe, my face meeting the brick. Spencer, being the amazing best friend, burst into laughter from the car.

Jumping back up from the ground, blushing, and ignoring Ryan’s hand stretching down to help me up, I stuttered out a goodbye and sprinted to the car, tossed myself into the front seat, and demanded that Spencer stepped on the gas and get me the hell away from there. Still laughing, he did as I said, driving me towards his house for Friday Movie Night.

“I just lost the job,” I moaned, dropping my head to my knees, my face a bright red.

“Not true,” Spencer chuckled. “You broke the cappuccino machine and still got your Starbuck’s job.”

“Yeah, but that was a machine! Not a kid!” I argued, burying my face in my hands. “God, I’m mortified.”

“Cheer up, if you don’t get the job, you don’t get the job,” Spencer shrugged. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, peeking through my fingers. “Can we stop off at Baskin Robins? I need comfort food.”

“Sure, Libs,” Spencer grinned. “Then it’s Movie Night. Haley’s gone for the night, so we have the house all to ourselves.”

“Why, Mr. Smith, are you attempting to seduce me?” I wiggled my eyebrows, giggling.

“Why yes, Miss O’Callaghan, I am,” he replied in a deep voice. “Is it working?”

“You’re making me so hot and bothered right now,” I moaned, biting back a giggled. “I promise I won’t tell…” Not being able to hold it back any longer, we burst into laughter as Spencer pulled into the ice cream shop. Friday Move Night had begun.

A large bowl of popcorn rested in my lap while Spencer held the tub of rainbow sherbet sat in Spencer’s. I pulled my spoon from my mouth and stuck it in the cold goodness, grinning like a child.

“It’s a shame we don’t have any rainbow sprinkles,” I sighed, staring at my spoonful longingly. “Then it would be perfect.”

“You’re such a kid,” Spencer laughed, pressing play on the DVD player.

“Yeah, well…your mom,” I grumbled, unable to think of anything better.

“Ran out of comebacks?” Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just start the movie,” I sighed, shoving more ice cream into my mouth. Spencer barked out in laughter, but pressed play none the less. Instantly, title credits for Monty Python and the Holy Grail graced the screen, casing me to roll my eyes and slap Spencer’s arm.

“Honestly? Holy Grail?” I giggled. “How many times have we seen this already?”

“Hey, it’s a classic!” he protested. “Now shut up so we can watch!”

Haley came home at ten thirty that night, and had a mini freak out when she saw the melted ice cream, knocked over bowl of popcorn, and two unconscious bodies spooned against each other on the couch. Spencer drove me home and made me promise to call him the moment I got word from Ryan.

“You mean if he hasn’t burned my file in attempt to get rid of me,” I sighed, climbing from the car. “Don’t let Haley kill you, kay? Night Spence!”

“Night, Libby,” he called, pulling away. I jogged up the steps and crawled onto the couch, falling asleep in an instance.