Page 4 of Frosty Felicity
“Felicity, this attitude of yours around the holidays has to stop. I can always time it like clockwork. As soon as the fall hits, leaves hit the ground and the weather cools, you start acting horrible.”
“I don’t like Christmas because people are fake. They ask intrusive questions, and show their true colors. Strangers become rude, trampling over one another, and last-minute shoppers come into the drugstore barking orders, and demanding the pharmacists help them find their lube and gift-wrap. I hate mankind around this time of year, and I have legitimate reasons as to why.”
“It only has a little to do with that, sure. But it has more to do with the terrible time you’ve had over the holidays these last few years, and now you probably think it’s a cursed time of year.” Felicity turned away and crossed her legs. “Look, I know some unfortunate things have happened to you, baby, but you don’t have to take it out on others. Come on now.” Mom placed her hand on her shoulder, but she refused to look at the woman. Regardless of her words bearing a bit of truth. “I want you to be happy, honey.”
“I am happy. Alone.”
“Can you at least pretend to give a damn about someone other than yourself?” Mom sucked her teeth and marched towards the pantry.
“I care about other people all day, Mom. I listen to them talk to me about their shingles and bunions. How they are tired of their body odor cream not being available even though their prescription ran out and they did nothing to get it refilled and now expect me to jump through hoops to do what they should’ve done eons ago. Or how the cough medicine they’d insisted on having doesn’t work, and we’re expected to refund them for it, even though they’ve drunk ninety percent of the bottle and it only cost them two dollars with insurance. Trust me. My job revolves around giving a damn about other people, all day, every day, and for your information, I have been so good at vocationally pretending to care in times when I don’t, I have now convinced myself that I do! Now how’s that for dedication?”
Mom returned with a box of crackers and some cheese, placing them on the table.
“Here. I know you haven’t eaten all day. You’re grumpier than usual.”
“That’s true, I haven’t eaten, but I’m not a mouse, or one of the critters you said is taking over the city. I appreciate the offer of this cheese, though.” She looked down at the slices, debating on whether to take a nibble or two. “Eh, thanks, Mom. I’m serious, but it’s not exactly what I had in mind to eat. No snacking for me.” She pushed it aside. “Besides, I don’t want to ruin my appetite.”
“Oh? You’re going out to dinner tonight?” Mom lit up, thoughts of a mystery man attached to Felicity no doubt filling her head. Like shitty sugarplums.
“No, just getting carryout. I’ve had my heart set on some Jeff Ruby’s.”
“The man? Isn’t he married?”
“…Mom.”
“Oh…” She simpered in a mischievous way. “The Jeff Ruby’s restaurant. I didn’t realize they had carryout.” Mom rolled her eyes and went back over to the sink.
“All restaurants have carryout nowadays.”
Just then, Cheerio, the old golden retriever, pranced up to her and rested her head upon her lap. Felicity smiled down at the dog and scratched the top of her furry head. “Heeey, girl. I was wondering where you were. You must’ve been somewhere napping.” She petted the dog for a bit longer, then checked the time. “Well, Mom, I better get going.”
“So soon?” Mom looked downright sad. Perhaps she was lonely with Ian, her stepfather, being out of town once again.
“Yeah, it’s getting late.” Felicity gave Cheerio a final pat on the head, then got to her feet and stretched. She’d stopped by to drop off Mom’s wrapping paper for upcoming December birthdays, some Kwanzaa cards, and dreadful Christmas bows from the drugstore. They were having a sale. “I have to work a double shift tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Mom made a forlorn face, then walked her to the front door, Cheerio strutting behind them. At the door, she wrapped her arms around the woman and squeezed tight, holding her for a while. Then a bit longer. And a bit longer, still. No matter how her mother drove her to the brink of insanity, she was the rock in her life. Solid. Dependable. Loving. Mom had smelled like rose perfume, nutmeg, and coconut for as long as Felicity could remember, and that instantaneously gave her a sense of calm. “Drive safely, honey. Cheerio!” Mom chided. The dog began to jump about and playfully pounce. “Not you, Cheerio!”
Felicity gave a final wave, got in her silver Toyota Camry, and drove away to Jeff Ruby’s steakhouse, where she got a to-go order of her favorite meal: An aged cowboy ribeye with a slice of cheesecake. Back at her condo, she turned off the alarm, took a deep breath, then toed off her sneakers. Her feet were still throbbing, in need of a good, hot Epsom salt soak. It wasn’t long before she had her food prepared on her favorite wooden tray, pepper shaker close by, and she was enveloped in thick sheets on her bed, trying to find something on Netflix to pass the time. She paused for a spell and listened to the weather forecast on her cellphone.
“…four more inches of snow… continuing until the late afternoon… icy bridges…” And so it went. Snow hadn’t shown up in the fall, but now it was getting ready to come down with an icy cold bang.
Hmmm, I better get out my thick sweaters. It’s time…
She then noticed she’d missed a call from her friend, Violet. Taking a bite of her steak, she rolled her eyes as the succulent meat practically melted in her mouth. Minutes later, she was patting her lips, and her belly, eyes half open, and fully satisfied. Before she knew it, she’d fallen fast asleep—but was wide awake at one in the morning due to her phone vibrating. Felicity was a light sleeper, and she hated it so, envying those who managed to fall asleep at the drop of a hat, and remained that way for eight hours. She snatched her phone off her nightstand and read a text message from her mother:
The neighbors are having relations with their window open again. It’s cold. Why are the windows open? They sound like feral cats. I’m calling the police.
Felicity slammed her phone down, ran her hand over her face, and sighed with frustration. Yeah… I’m sure the police will stop arresting murderers and turn away from burglaries in progress, all to rush right over to your literally fucking neighbors and break up the big ol’ jamboree. REALLY, MOM?! You couldn’t wait to talk to me about this later, or how about never at all? Now I’m wide awake. She didn’t bother texting back. If she did, her mother might actually call her to give her the play by play of all she’d seen and heard. Mom was a night owl, and since she no longer worked outside the home, she had far too much time on her hands.
Felicity’s mind raced with everything that had transpired that week.
Deonte came in late, but told the boss he was early…
A woman was irate, yelling at everyone because her child thought her vaginal yeast infection suppositories were ‘white crayons,’ and used them to do her ‘invisible drawings.’ Somehow, the lady believed they should have had a ‘childproof’ box, as if the pharmaceutical department were somehow in charge of product packaging.
Next time, put away the cooch cream in a safe place. You and your itchy twat can go to hell. Lunch was good at least today… Hadn’t had a Frisch’s Big Boy in years.
Minute upon minute passed, and she couldn’t fall back to sleep. Soon she was so desperate, she found herself on a porn website, trying to find something suitable to rub one out to.
