"Mundane: Adjective- lacking interest or excitement; dull."
May 13, 2016: Mayhill, Wyoming
The wheel turns. Round, and round, and round, and round. Day in and day out, scan, stock, supply, smile, scan, stock, supply, smile. Eight hours a day, five days a week. It's like high school all over again, with the way that Friday's coming is like the sun shining out from behind the clouds. Unfortunately, it's not Friday, and it won't be for three days yet. Three more days of hellish existence, then, a weekend without the nonsense that comes with this job. Customer service in the cesspit of this establishment is far from ideal.
If there's an entry in the dictionary for 'Grocery Store Hell', there's definitely an image of the Happy-mart beside it. Happy-mart. How Emily has grown to despise that logo and name. Who the hell calls their store the Happy-mart, especially when no one inside is actually happy? Not even the customers. Not that they have many customers. Sure, Happy-mart is the only grocery in the on this side of Mayhill, but, that doesn't matter much when their food is crap and there's a Walmart just on the other end of town. When one says 'I work at Happy-mart', they get sympathetically awkward smiles and a regaling of some terrible experience someone's had within the store. Either that, or a quick diversion of the subject. Happy-mart is infamous, known by its more than slightly terrifying logo of a cartoonish, smiling lemon and cheap food. Not exactly something someone can associate with happiness.
Emily eyes the plastic-wrapped heads of lettuce that she's working to stack on the chilled shelves of the produce section. She can already spy a few spots of brown on the green leaves, which means that, if left alone for too long, the heads themselves will rot. Hence the low prices. She wrinkles her nose and keeps stacking. She doesn't get much say in what goes on the shelves, she's just the one who puts it out. She's also the one who receives the customer complaints about the quality of the food and the questions about 'why don't you have…?'. Life at the Happy-mart is less than comfortable and more than one employee has practically run away screaming after spending any significant amount of time there. But, not Emily. She has remained for over a year, scanning, stocking, supplying, and smiling. Just like her boss, Heath, told her to on her first day of work.
She has to remind herself that the nearness to her home and her lack of a car are her main reason for working at the store.
One of the dim, white lights overhead flickers, giving the already dreary interior an even more institutionalized feel. She shoots it a glare. The place already looks like the world's most well-stocked asylum, what with its faded yellow walls and grey tiled floors. Half of the lights don't work and the ones that do are dim enough to give everyone who stood under them a washed-out, pasty aesthetic. It didn't matter how much makeup Emily put on, the store itself seemed to be against her looking pretty while at work. She suspected that the pure shadiness of the place was part of the reason they didn't get much business aside from regulars and unsuspecting passersby. Though, it wasn't like Heath would be replacing those lights anytime soon. Or, rather, ever. They'll stay right where they are until the apocalypse, at which point it wouldn't matter anymore.
Finished with the lettuce, Emily steps back from the shelves and returns the cart she's been using to the back room. Her hair, so light brown that it's nearly blonde, is dull in the dim white lights. She attempted to style it nicely before leaving home that morning, pulling its length over one shoulder in a loose tail, her bangs hanging about her face. Her makeup, too, shows an attempt to look nice despite the collared, sunflower yellow shirt and khakis that serve as a uniform. In a small show of defiance against the employee handbook, numerous gold bangles of varying thicknesses decorate her wrists, matching earrings dangling from her earlobes. The most she can manage, despite her efforts, is a sense of personal style that clashes with the horrid yellow of her shirt. She could do with literally any other color than yellow. It's just a sick perversion of her favorite color, gold. Gold, unfortunately, doesn't work well as a color for a shirt like this.
With a small, disgusted sound, Emily puts the cart back with the rows of others and, discretely, glances around. Then, she pulls her phone out of her pocket to check the time. Heath is a cheapskate who won't replace the lights, but, being caught with a cellphone out is a criminal offense that results in immediate 'termination'. She's been working at the store a year and still hasn't been caught, mostly because Heath keeps to his office and only comes out in the case of dire emergencies, like a Doritos craving. Her blue eyes flicker over the screen, finding the time to be 3:45. Fifteen more minutes of grocery store hell and then, freedom.
As she is about to shove the phone back into her pocket, she pauses, looking at it again. The image on the lock screen brings a small smile to her lips. It was taken at her twenty-second birthday last October, at the only decent restaurant in the area. The Paper Moon has long been Emily's favorite place to eat, as well as that of her three best friends. Her adoptive parents don't care much for it, but, for Emily and her housemates, the Asian Fusion cuisine is perfect. The four of them have always been drawn to Japanese culture especially, which is part of the reason that they managed to become such fast friends upon their meeting. Their landlady, Nemu, is especially fond of Japanese culture, mostly because her ancestral namesake lived in Kyoto during the 1860's, when it was still the capital of the nation. At least, that's what she told Emily and the other two girls who rented rooms in the large house she owns. Jade and Amber are both younger than Emily, but, only by a small number of years. The lock screen image shows all four of them at a table together, smiling brightly as the waitress snapped the photo for them. In the picture, Emily and Jade sit on one side of the table, the older woman's arm around the younger in a surprise embrace. Nemu and Amber occupy the other side, Nemu laughing in a way that lights up her entire face and Amber giving her soft approximation of a wide grin.
Her lips quirking, Emily shoves the phone into her front pocket again. After she left her adoptive parents' house when she'd graduated from high school, it was Nemu who offered a place for Emily to live. They met when Emily was still in high school. Nemu was only twenty at the time, but, she'd inherited a rather large house, and a nice sum of money, from her grandparents, who had lived in the area. With little interest in attending college, Nemu had taken a job at the Mayhill High School as an assistant librarian. As a junior, Emily had never been very academic and was struggling through a research project. Nemu took pity on her and helped with finding materials and resources. Emily was very grateful to her and, after that first meeting, often came down to the library for assistance with homework. When Emily mentioned that she was planning to move out when she graduated, Nemu immediately offered her a room.
"I won't charge much. We're friends. And it's not like I need the money," she said, smiling with her dark eyes, "Besides, I'm lonely living in that big house by myself."
Emily accepted. How could she not? The deal was almost been good to be true. Nemu was a good and caring friend and Emily wasn't making a lot of money to pay rent for an apartment with. While Happy-mart did pay her just above minimum wage, online classes took up a good portion of her income. It's a great arrangement, and her housemates are wonderful too. Aside from the pranks Amber occasionally pulls.
The intercom clicks on overhead, breaking into her introspection.
"Emily up front."
Emily's eye twitches when her coworker, Judith's, voice crackles over the speakers. Every time she hears it, she feels the strange urge to punch someone or something. The translation for what was said is: Come check this customer out because I don't want to. Which is part of what irks her.
Thoroughly annoyed and now even more glad that she's leaving in less than fifteen minutes, Emily shoves the swinging doors to the back room open with a bang and marches between them, her shoes squeaking over the tiles. She walked up the freezer aisle and came to the front of the store, more than ready to shove Judith into one of those freezers and padlock the door, more than tired of her laziness. The teenager has been nothing but a nuisance since she started a few months earlier. They're the only two who work the first shift, which means that Emily has the pleasure of working with her all the time. Judith is as lazy as they come and cares much more about flirting with any young male customer who comes through than she is with actually working. Model thin and Barbie blonde, she looks the part of shallow flirt too. Personally, Emily thinks she should have tried to be an actress on one of those trashy television shows. At least that would have gotten her out of the area.
Emily forces a smile onto her face when she sees the customer. A man, she notices. Old, balding, but with a kindly face. The type of customer who would rather shop at Happy-mart than Walmart simply because that's what he does. Enough said. She sighs in relief. At least he looks nice. He's perusing the magazines at the end of the checkout aisle with a curious expression, his startlingly blue eyes warm and laid back. He stands surprisingly erect, but the sparse white hair on top of his head betrays his age despite that.
Emily swings around to the computer behind the conveyer and turns the belt on, hands automatically reaching for the items as they near her.
"Hello, sir, did you find everything alright?" she asks, the same question she's always expected to ask.
"Yes, I did. Thank you," the old man smiles again.
His voice causes her to glance up. It isn't tinged with the reediness of age like she expected. Instead, it's quite strong and firm. She internally make a noise of mild surprise. She wasn't expecting that. She cocks her head curiously but says nothing, simply scanning through various food items. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just canned fruits and vegetables, pasta, milk, and the like.
"Glad to hear it, sir," she replies, she glances down, "That's a cool cane."
She didn't notice before, but, the old man is carrying a long, black cane, the head of an eagle wrapped in his fingers at the top. The end rests on the floor, giving the appearance that he might be using it, but, Emily doubts it. He smiles, bearing straight, white teeth that she immediately takes to be dentures, apparently pleased by her compliment.
"Thank you. It's been passed down all the way from my great-grandfather," his tone is a bit proud as he looks down at the cane.
Emily smiles in return, the expression more genuine now.
"That's cool!"
The old man chuckles. Then, silence falls as she finishes scanning and presses a button on her computer. The total rings up and she reads it aloud to him. He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a worn leather wallet. From within, he pulls a fifty-dollar bill and hands it to her. In a few deft strokes of the keys, the exchange is complete and his change is being handed back. As he puts it away, she bags his groceries with the quick, practiced movement of someone who has done it over and over again.
"Need help carrying these out?" she asks as she finishes.
"Oh, no. I might carry a cane, but I'm still spry," he waggles his thick brows, grinning.
Emily laughs in response, gathering up the bags and handing them to him.
"Just wanted to check. Have a nice day, sir."
"You as well, dear."
With that, the old man departs, cane tapping along without being truly used. Emily looks after him for a moment, smiling slightly quizzically. Not a bad ending to a crappy day. Even a short conversation with a nice customer can brighten things for her. She's actually glad for once that Judith is a lazy good-for-nothing coworker who always opts out when she can. If she hadn't Emily wouldn't have gotten to talk to the nice old man.
As soon as the automatic door slides shut behind him, she steps away from the register and looks at the clock on her computer. 3:53, seven minutes till her shift ends. She scoffed. She won't be getting much done in seven minutes. With a shameless strut, she makes her way over to the office and opens the door.
Heath barely glances up when she enters the room, too engrossed with something on his computer screen. Emily almost winces when she sees him. Short, pudgy, and balding, he always reminds her of the satyr character in Disney's Hercules. The light shines through his thin hair, highlighting his scalp, and his paunchy stomach causes his golf shirt to strain in what looks to be an uncomfortable manner. An open snack-sized bag of chips lays near the keyboard his thick fingers rest on. Watery eyes gaze dully at an absolutely ancient desktop monitor, taking in a chart of some sort. As Emily reaches for her time card, Heath gives a loud cough, presumably clearing his airways enough to speak.
"Leaving for the day?" he asks, not looking up.
Emily makes an affirmative sound, slipping the card into the clocking device. Heath coughs again, reaching into his bag of chips with a loud crinkling.
"See you tomorrow."
"Yup. Produce is done, so, see you."
Before he can say anything else, she zips out of the office and through the automatic door, black leather purse in hand.
Once outside, Emily pauses to stretch her hands up to the sky, as if to grasp a bit of freedom from the blue expanse. Her fingers slowly curl into fists, tendons tensing under the numerous bangles on her wrists. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the newly arrived summer. Summer is, without a doubt, her favorite season. Warmth and sun and blue skies are what make her thrive. When her hair turns a bit closer to blonde than brown and her skin takes on the dark sun-kissed tone gained from hours of lying by the pool in the backyard, she feels at her most beautiful.
Hearing a car pulling into the parking lot, she quickly opens her eyes and bolts for the bike rack. Her fingers fly through the combination with a practiced speed and, as soon as it unlocks, she shoves both chain and lock into her purse. Then, without pause, she swings onto the bicycle and peddles away like the devil himself is after her, wary of being caught outside and called back for overtime.
The ride from work is always Emily's favorite part of the day. The town limits are only two miles from the store. A mile beyond that, down a long driveway, in a little cluster of four houses shielded by a stand of trees, is home. The house Nemu's grandparents left to her is a sprawling two-story Victorian style with a wraparound porch and similar balcony on the second floor. Its smoky grey siding, white accents, and black shingled roof have all taken a place of familiarity in Emily's mind.
Seeing that house immediately sets her at ease because, inside, the people who she associates with the word 'family' live. The ride home is her favorite part of the day because she knows that, at the end of it, she'll be in a safe haven, where there are few expectations placed on her. The biggest threat is the possibility that Amber might retaliate for a prank Emily pulled on her weeks ago, or that Jade might trip down the stairs from the second floor again. Nemu will be in the kitchen, mothering them all as she always does, singing to herself in alternating Japanese and English. As soon as Emily walks through the door, Nemu will run to greet her with a hug, smiling so widely that her eyes squint almost shut. Jade will be sitting in her wicker chair on the second-floor balcony, laptop on her knees as she types away at that book that she swears spawned from a dream she had around the time of her birthday. Amber will have just arrived home from the library and, despite Nemu's insistence that she can cook on her own, be in the kitchen with their landlady.
Emily's legs are in almost constant motion as she whisks past stores and houses, down the edge of the road and out of town. She pauses only at stop signs and red lights, waiting impatiently until she can again start peddling. A man in a pickup truck playfully races her down the main street out of town, causing her to grin at him when she reaches the last stop sign before him. He gives a good-natured salute and turns down a crossroad as she continues on.
Fifteen minutes one-way, the bike rides to and from work are what have kept Emily in the shape she's in. Her adoptive father, a blue-collar worker with a love for hunting, had often gone riding with her on warm summer days. After her adoption as an infant, she grew up in a happy home where she never lacked. They did not have much excess, and both of her parents worked to sustain them, but, their home was a place of laughter and nurturing. She was especially close with her father while growing up, connecting with his bright personality and easy smile. His booming laugh was a source of comfort and his calloused hands had always been quick to help. Her mother had been quieter and a bit more serious, but no less good-humored. They were older now, edging toward their sixties, and had adopted her later in life, after they realized that they were unable to have children of their own. As a little girl, she'd been the type who wore pink and spoke like a young lady. She was also the type who got into brawls with the boys on the playground. Her mother had been disappointed every time. Her father had disciplined her only when she was the one who had started the altercation. It's because of him that she still doesn't regret punching Jimmy Eicher's tooth out when he pulled her hair.
Her parents had also been very concerned with how much time she spent outdoors. Her mother fretted that too much time watching TV or reading alone in her room could be detrimental, which led to her spending a great deal of time tromping around the woods with her father. As soon as she was old enough, she'd had a bow in hand as well, going with him on every hunting trip she could. The memory of receiving her own bow on her thirteenth birthday is still one of her favorites. She can clearly recall the way her father had grinned at her exclamation of surprise and joy as the paper was torn away, his dark eyes twinkling and his teeth shining through his black beard. How her mother hugged her tightly, smelling of the flowers she worked with every day. That same bow sits in Emily's closet now, regularly kept up, but used only when time allows her to go hunting. And her father feels well-enough. Years of manual labor are beginning to wear on him, and he's fading far past his prime. Still, that doesn't stop him from visiting on his way home from work whenever he can. The sound of his old pickup truck pulling up the driveway is one that always has all three of the younger girls running to the front porch.
Reaching the end of the driveway, Emily turns quickly and puts on a burst of speed. The trees ahead stand in a thick, broad clump, a dark arch between them marking where the drive continues up to the houses within. Eagerly, Emily races under the boughs and is immediately surrounded by the dappled light that shines through the foliage. A few moments later, she pulls onto the roundabout at the end of the driveway.
The four houses stand in a semicircle, contained within the shade of the trees around them. Sun shines into the clearing in patches, some of it blocked by the large oak tree that grows in the center of the roundabout. Emily quickly circles the oak, riding past a stone Edwardian house. A red brick Edwardian stands across the clearing from it, on the opposite side of Nemu's house, next to the shockingly violet Colonial style home. Emily has never really understood why anyone would ever choose that color, but, she's gotten used to seeing it every day. It lost its shock factor after a while. The others are nice to look at, but, since no one lives in them, they're a bit creepy, in Emily's opinion. Empty windows gaze out on the four women as they go about their daily lives and it's all too easy to imagine a face at one of the dusty portals, eyes tracking them. With a shudder, she moves on, as she always does, riding her bike around the back of the house to lean it against the siding.
A smaller, adjoining clearing serves as the backyard for the girls. At the far end, a worn and hole-riddled archery target stands in the shadows of the trees. A small garden sprawls off to one side, still a mass of tilled dirt and barely-there sprouts. Eventually, it will be a tangle of greens, reds, oranges, and whatever other colors tickled Nemu's fancy when she planted it. The rest of the yard is grass that's nearly at ankle height despite having been cut just that past Saturday. Emily hops off her bike and rolls it through the grass, dragging it up to the back of the house and leaning it there. Then, already able to hear the chatter of voices within, she bounds up the porch steps and lets herself in through the unlocked back door. None of them are particularly concerned about break-ins when they live so far from others.
As soon as she steps through the door, the smell of food assaults her. Emily pauses, taking a deep breath. Cumin and curry are the most distinguishable scents, though, she catches undercurrents of other spices mixed with cooking meat. The sharp tang of cooking vegetables is also present. Smiling happily, she makes her way into the kitchen, knowing fully what she'll find there.
As soon as she rounds the corner, there's a flurry of motion and, suddenly, she's being dragged into a hug. Engulfed in the scent of sweet perfume and shampoo, she laughs, quickly returning the hug as Nemu's bony chin digs into her shoulder.
"Welcome home, Em!" the Japanese woman nearly sings in her ear, "We missed you!"
Over Nemu's shoulder, Emily can see Amber still at the stove, deftly handling two separate woks. The younger girl glances up, her glasses catching the light. She gives a small nod and only slightly larger smile before turning back to her work. She's obviously already been home for a while, she's already wearing a loose tank top and pajama bottoms. Her dark hair falls down to the middle of her back in a mess of waves and loose curls, in the uncaring manner of one who is done for the day.
"Missed you too, Nemu," Emily replies as the older woman steps back, a wide smile lighting up a porcelain face suitable for a china doll, "What's cooking?"
Nemu almost titters in apparent excitement as she rushes back to the stove to help Amber. They trade utensils and places with a practiced efficiency. Once away from the stove, Amber ducks down to check something in the oven, pulling it open just a crack to peek inside.
"Beef Lok Lak, dear," Nemu tells their newcomer, "With rice, stir-fried greens, and naan bread."
Emily can't help the way her grin widens in response to her landlady's enthusiasm. Nemu's almost always happy, about the food they're cooking, the way the house is set up, the girls' days at work, or anything else really. Even on those depressing days when Emily has a particularly rough time at grocery store hell, Nemu comes in like the sun shining on a cloudy morning. It's like nothing can ever get her down. The last time Emily saw her even look sad was when Amber lost her parents. Even when she was fighting to help emancipate Amber for that two or so months before she turned eighteen, she worked with a quiet surety, never once doubting her abilities and almost always maintaining her smile. That was a trying time for all of them, but, they came through by sticking together and letting Nemu guide them.
Emily noses over to glance into the woks, breathing in the scents of the Asian cuisine.
"Nice. Smells good."
Her blue eyes sweep the room, then, taking in the small, square table that they used for their daily meals, the softly buzzing refrigerator, and the freshly wiped counters that run along the walls of at least half the room. There's no sign of the house's other occupant anywhere in the kitchen. No empty cups sit in the sink, where she always leaves them, no books have been forgotten on the table, and no cardigan is hung over her chair. Emily cocks her head. Usually, by this time, Jade would have exploded across the house, leaving traces of her passing in every room she went through. Especially on her day off after she finished working a late-night shift at the Paper Moon. Jade is a creature of habit, and she isn't displaying those habits.
"Where's Jade?"
Amber has moved to one of the overhead cabinets and is pulling out the numerous dishes that will be needed for dinner.
"Upstairs, on the balcony. She's been working on her novel for the past three hours is what Nemu said."
Nemu nods, turning off the burners and placing lids on the woks.
"I had to remind her about Kendo this afternoon. She was almost late because she was writing. Apparently, she found some inspiration."
Emily can't help but smirk at that. Jade is, and always has been, a bit of an odd duck. Socially awkward and innately clumsy, she was usually the girl who was picked on at Mayville High School. That changed in her junior year, when a man named Tateo Watamura moved to Mayville from New York, bringing his Kendo dojo, and his adult son's family, with him. Watamura's granddaughter, Katherine, once enrolled in school, quickly befriended Amber, as they shared similar interests. Jade was friendly with Amber at the time though, due to their age difference, they didn't spend much time together. When Amber revealed to her new friend that Jade was often a target of bullying, Katherine had expressed her concern at her family's dinner table, leading to the delivery of an invitation to one of the sessions at the dojo. Curious, particularly about the martial art's Japanese connections, Jade accepted. That first class went exceptionally well. Within a month, she purchased her own gear and became a regular student. Now, four or so years later, she's a little less clumsy, quite a bit surer of herself, and a lot thinner. Her new confidence only fails when it comes to men who appear to be around her age. She always turns into a blushing, stuttering mess. Emily finds it hilarious. The girl can emanate enough of a killing aura to scare Chuck Norris and cut an entire watermelon in half without shifting the pieces, but, take a sword out of her hands and she'll trip over thin air and run away any time a young man smiles at her.
"Would you mind telling her it's time to eat when you head up?" Nemu continues as Amber begins setting the table.
Emily gives a small shrug.
"Sure. I'll give it my best shot. Might be difficult if she's in the zone, or whatever."
Amber makes a soft sound of what might be amusement, but, makes no comment.
Emily leaves the kitchen through far door, exiting into the living room, which sits at the center of the downstairs. A flight of stairs is set into one wall, leading up to a large landing that overlooks the room below. A doorway under the stairs marks the flight that leads down to Nemu's basement apartment. The living room itself is comfortably furnished with three couches, two armchairs, and a rather ornately carved coffee table, all of which is arranged before an iron-grated fireplace. The landing above has been turned into a library of sorts, with numerous bookshelves set against the wall, two soft chairs arranged for comfortable reading, and a card table set up for board games. Three doors lead off the landing, one to a bathroom, one to Emily's room, and one to Jade's.
The blonde woman knocks on Jade's door, despite it being opened a crack. Sometimes, her younger friend simply doesn't close it all the way because she feels safe at home. The last time Emily took that as an invitation to simply walk in, she had an unwanted eyeful that revealed just how much Kendo was helping with Jade's figure. There's no reply, so, Emily simply raises her voice and calls:
"Hey! Food!"
She pauses for a moment, hearing some scrambling within. Satisfied, she moves over to her own door, which is marked by a sparkling gold sign featuring Emily's name with an arrow shot through it. The sign was a gift from Jade on their first Christmas together in the house, before Amber joined them. With the weary sigh of one finally returning home after a long day, she pushes the door open and steps into her room. It isn't the biggest, but it's enough to house her bed, nightstand, dresser, and computer desk. As she steps inside, closing the door fully behind her, she has to force her eyes away from the soft twin bed with its fluffy golden comforter and feather pillows. It's all too tempting to jump in, curl up, and skip dinner altogether. Instead of giving into that temptation, though, she carelessly strips off her work uniform, tossing it onto the floor, and replaces it with a sleeping shirt and shorts. Her fingers deftly pull the tie from her hair and drag through the light strands, shaking them out. Her numerous bangles are removed and returned to the bowl on top of her dresser and her earrings to the stand next to it.
After pulling on a comfy pair of socks, she rejoins her surrogate family in the kitchen, the last to arrive. Nemu looks up with a smile as Emily takes her chair.
"Good! Now we're all here!" she turns her eyes, so inky blue that they're nearly black, on Amber, "Now, Amber, you may get some bread."
Emily bites back a smirk at Amber's almost mutinous expression as Nemu passes her the basket of naan bread. It is well-known throughout the house that Amber is a notorious bread thief. Not of sandwich bread, but of any that is freshly baked. As soon as it comes out of the oven, it's likely that Amber will be there to snatch a piece. None of her housemates are quite sure why this is, since there's always enough to go around, and questioning her has received only a few shrugs and a 'I like warm bread' in reply. Once, when Emily teased her about it, Amber retaliated by taking all the biscuits the following morning and stubbornly holding them hostage, giving them only to Jade and Nemu when they asked nicely.
"Thank you," the dark-haired girl murmured, quickly taking a piece of the naan bread before passing the basked to Jade, who sits to her left, directly across from Nemu.
Jade takes the basket and, as though drawn by the motion, Emily immediately pounces.
"So, you much have really been on a roll if you almost missed Kendo today," she grins suggestively, "Writing a hot sex scene?"
Nemu gives her an amused but reprimanding look, which is ignored. As expected, Jade blushes lightly and quickly shakes her head. Her brown hair, still bound up in a ponytail from Kendo, swings with the motion, nearly smacking her in the face. Emily never can resist teasing her when she gives such enjoyable reactions.
"No! I just…had a dream last night that gave me some inspiration."
Emily takes the bread as she passes it, still grinning.
"Oh? What kind of dream?"
Amber glances up from carefully picking up a bit of rice and meat with her chopsticks, raising her eyebrows over her glasses.
"I doubt it was what you're hoping, Emily."
Jade nods firmly in agreement before replying.
"It was different than the other one I used. Instead of being in a market, it was in a residential part of town, I think. I was walking by myself and this man started harassing me. It was like all my training just abandoned me, and I couldn't fight back."
"Goodness! That sounds like a nightmare!" Nemu exclaims around a bite, her eyes wide as she listened intently.
"It seemed that way at first. And it felt so real, just like the last one. But, just when I thought I was going to be assaulted, that same man stepped in."
Emily frowns slightly, waving her chopsticks aimlessly in a display of rather poor table manners.
"That samurai guy?" her question was greeted with a nod, causing her to make an amused sound, "Were you watching anime again last night?"
When Jade makes a face at her, Amber glances up again.
"Hush. Let her finish."
"Yes, what happened then?" Nemu asks, intrigued.
"Well, he scared off the one who was harassing me and told me that a lady shouldn't walk alone…then, he walked me home."
Emily, still grinning teasingly, leans her cheek into her hand, pointing at Jade with her chopsticks.
"Awww. It's a shame this guy isn't real. He sounds like a sweetheart," she jabbed at the younger girl, nearly poking Jade's arm, "Is he hot?"
Jade frowns at her, disliking the teasing. Her brown eyes are reproachful as she scoots her chair a bit away from Emily and towards Amber.
"I guess. He's just a dream…"
This leads to a loud laugh from the light-haired woman. Louder than the situation really dictates, which, really, proves how glad she is to be home with her housemates again. Emily dearly loves to laugh and will almost always try to create a situation in which she can.
"You've really got a 'dream guy'! Come on, give us something to go on! Maybe we can find a guy who looks like him and hook you up."
Jade blushes darkly at the mere thought of 'hooking up' with anyone. Amber sighs as she begins systematically pulling apart her naan bread and sopping up the Lok Lak sauce that has seeped to the edges of her plate. Nemu listens to the discussion with a small smile, quietly diminishing the beef and rice in front of her.
"You might as well give her some features, Jade. If you don't, she'll go on forever."
Emily grins unrepentantly, quite proud of her ability to doggedly pursue a topic and finally annoy the other party into acquiescing to her. Jade fidgets in her seat, disliking the amount of attention on her. Her bared neck slowly flushes as red as her face.
"…He's got green eyes and brown hair, lighter than mine," is all she says before beginning to wolf down her food, cutting off conversation.
Her older housemate sniggers in response, considering saying more, but, is cut off by Nemu's gentle glance of warning. Emily's smile falters just slightly. There was something else in that glance, beyond the usual 'that's enough' look. Something dark and sad and even worried. Then, before she can even really be sure of its presence, it passes and Nemu is again smiling. Emily watches her for a moment, a bit concerned. As unsure as she is about what she actually saw, though, she returns to the dinner conversation. Jade almost completely drops out of the interactions, causing the blonde woman to feel a little badly for her badgering. Amber makes up for it in her usual straight-laced manner, recounting her adventures at the library earlier that day. 'Adventures' meaning the number of soda bottles she had to pick up after teenagers using the public computers left them there.
Throughout the duration of Amber's recounting, Emily keeps an eye on Nemu. The Japanese woman laughs along with Amber's story, all smiles and shining eyes. Emily begins to think that she imagined the look after all. What reason would Nemu have to be sad? They are all safely together at home, eating, talking, and laughing together.
A low buzz interrupts the conversation. Nemu jolts at the sound, surprised, and stands quickly to retrieve her phone from the kitchen counter. Jade gets up as well, then, taking her empty plate to the sink. A brief silence falls as the dinner conversation is halted by the two leaving the table. Nemu quickly answers the incoming call, leaning against the counter. Emily doesn't think she's realized it, but, as soon as she saw the number, her dark eyes went serious again, and her smile looks a bit more forced than before.
"Hello?"
A pause as a garbled voice answers. Nemu's smile tenses more.
"Theo! It's been too long!" moves away from the counter, pulling the mouthpiece away from her face long enough to whisper to her housemates, "I have to take this."
Amber glances up from where she is tearing apart a piece of naan bread, no longer truly hungry, but unwilling to give up the bread. Emily gives her a brief smile that fades into a frown as Nemu leaves the room. It is out of character for their landlady to be so tense. Nemu's voice floats back to them as she walks quickly through the house, tone one of attempted nonchalance stained with something like tense anticipation.
"They have? Who was first?"
Jade turns her head to look over her shoulder from where she is washing her dishes, listening to Nemu's feet on the basement steps and what she says next.
"I should have guessed it would be him. How quickly did it happen?"
Her voice grew fainter.
"That fast. Alright. I'll see what I can do. Send me-"
Her voice fades as she disappears into her apartment in the basement. There is a long moment of silence at the table, then, Amber speaks.
"Maybe it's a business partner?"
As far as any of the girls knew, Nemu had a hand in a rather prestigious pharmaceutical company, Hollister's Family Medicines and Cures, acting as a manager of some sort. They had all looked it up at least once out of curiosity. Apparently, it had started when Japan's borders had opened in the mid to late 1800's due to the demand for Western medicine. A British man named Hollister and his wife had packed up his family business, moved into the island nation, and set up shop. Since that time, business had been good. They were a fairly small company, but, there was a lot of money to be made in the field, particularly when their products contained more natural ingredients, and were less expensive, than those of the larger corporations. Emily, at least, had been vaguely surprised. Even with those aspects going for them, she would have thought that they would have been run out of business by those bigger companies. Somehow, though, they remained quite successful, with offices and stores in many of the major cities of Japan and America particularly, and others spread throughout the world. Nemu, apparently, is some sort of liaison for the American side of things. None of the girls is sure what kind of salary she makes in that position, but, they all think that it must be impressive. And yet, she doesn't flaunt any sort of luxury. Amber has suggested that maybe she is simply saving it away, but, for what, no one can say.
"Could be…" Emily murmurs in response to the younger woman's suggestion.
There could be something going on with the company. That would explain Nemu's strained expression. But, something just doesn't feel right.
Amber finally reaches her limit on bread intake. Having helped cook, she retrieves a thick fantasy novel from her room, picks out a place on the couch, and settles down to read. Apparently, she has had enough speculation for the evening. Emily and Jade make quick work of stowing the leftovers and cleaning the kitchen, the two of them falling into the familiar pattern that has been built over the years of living together. As they work, Emily coaxes Jade into sharing what she's writing, ceasing with her teasing and approaching her housemate in a truly friendly manner. Jade has just agreed to let her read at least a portion when the sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupts them. Both young women move into the next room, Emily with her hands still damp.
Nemu enters the living room from the stairwell, looking uncharacteristically hassled. She carries her phone in one hand, her hair has been pulled from its loose ponytail to fall in a dark sheet nearly down to her waist, a style she wears only when she's paying little attention to her appearance. Emily's brows furrow just slightly. Nemu is always very conscious about her appearance, which means that, at the moment, she's stressed. All three girls have lived with her long enough to know the signs. She and Jade exchange a startled look.
"I'm sorry, girls," their landlady begins, dropping into one of the armchairs in that graceful way that Jade has often admitted she envies, "That was my coworker, Theo. Apparently, there's an emergency that needs addressed and I've been asked to fly to Japan."
Surprised looks are shared by her tenants.
"When?" Amber asks, book temporarily forgotten.
Nemu sighs, shoving her bangs out of her face impatiently.
"As soon as possible. He actually asked if I could fly out tonight, but, I couldn't even make it to an airport by then. I'll have to leave early tomorrow morning."
There's a pause as this news is received. Then, Emily allows a smile to slip over her face.
"Well, it's unfortunate I've got to go back to grocery store hell tomorrow. I'm tempted to call off and go with you."
Nemu gives her a returning smile, one that reaches her eyes only for a brief moment before the worry returns to them.
"I don't think they would let you into this meeting anyway. But, I promise I will get the three of you to Japan one day. We'll go be quintessential tourists. When I'm not on business."
Emily's smile widens into a grin as she tries to keep that feeling of normalcy going for those in the room. If Nemu is stressed about work, it won't do to let her know that they've picked up on it. It will only make her hide her anxiety to keep from worrying them.
"I'll hold you to it. And just think, we could save money by stuffing Amber into a carry-on. She's small enough to fit."
The youngest household member gives Emily an unimpressed look through her glasses as Nemu laughs. Even Jade cracks a smile. For a moment, it's like the call never came.
But Emily can't shake the sense that the still-lingering worry in Nemu's smile is about more than a business call. Nemu has dealt with similar situations before, and always been cool and collected. Something has rattled her. And Emily isn't sure what.
Sorry for that delay! I struggled with my muse going off and on and a summer of working long hours. But, a chapter is here! Anyone who read Wisps will remember our girls~ Sorry for no guys. Maybe soon, though.
Unfortunately, for me, it's like 11:00 pm and I'm exhausted so, I don't have much to say. So, on to reviews!
Anna Okumura: Thanks so much! I did work hard on the description. Hope this answers your question!
Scintilla of Myself: Thank you! I hope that you enjoyed the update!
SassInAssassin, Liliana, just-izzyy and Dai: It's good to be back! Your kind words mean a lot. I certainly hope that this will indeed be better than the original :D
reader: Indeed it is! This story will focus a lot more on the backstory, since the last edition was so lacking.
NarutoShippings and Ruriko: Thank you so much, I almost cry when I read your reviews. I'm so glad you like this version! I will do my best to update at least semi-regularly from here on out so that we can all enjoy it more often!