The Week After Our One-Night-Stand

*** Mark ***

"I could've picked up groceries yesterday evening, mah." Mark Daniels glanced at his mother on the passenger side of the car.

"Shoulda, woulda, coulda!" His mother muttered. She wound down the windshield. As if that would help her get a clearer picture of the crowd leaving and entering the supermarket. "Is it always this crowded?"

Mark rubbed his forehead in frustration. If he ignored that question, she would call him disrespectful and they'd start quarreling. "Yes, because it's Saturday. Also, you already know this. Should we go to the mall instead?"

Even as he asked this, he knew the suggestion was dumb. The mall was often much worse than Ever-Good supermarket on this day and time of the week. But he hated driving in traffic or shopping in crowded places. No doubt, there would be kids in there screaming for no reason while their parents did nothing about it.

His mother's reply was as expected. "We're already here. Also, you hate it there on Saturday."

Mark eased the car forward, moving slowly behind the vehicles in front. Soon, they were within the premises. "And now we pray for parking space." He grumbled.

"No worries there. Half of these people are leaving." His mother said idly.

Three minutes passed and they did not find a vacant parking spot.

"I'll just go inside and get the stuff." His mother said. She opened the door to get out of the car without looking and accidentally hit a passerby. Her purse, which sat half-open on her thighs, fell out at the same time.

Typical. Mark scoffed when he recalled how quick she was to call others clumsy.

"Oh, sorry my dear!" She said.

Glancing her way to see the look on the victim's face, his eyes settled on a very ordinary-looking girl. She wore a grimace which was soon transforming into a friendly smile.

Mark's eyes remained fixed on the girl and he found himself recalling the Sun's golden ball when it rose on the horizon at the first light of dawn.

The girl bent down with his mother and proceeded to assist with picking up the things that fell out of the purse. The wind played with her yellow flay dress when she hunched. With one hand, she held the dress down, preventing it from lifting off her thighs and revealing her underwear.

'Look up.' He willed her. 'Look at me.'

Girls liked his face and for some reason, he wanted this one to notice him.

In a few moments, when she and his mother were done, she raised her head. But only for one second. Cars started to honk behind him, signaling that there was space to move further in the queue of cars.

She had looked but had gotten distracted and not seen him.

At that instant, his mother threw some of the things back in the seat, shut the door, and waved him off.

As he moved the car, he kept glancing at the rearview. But the girl was on her way out of the premises. He soon found a spot near the reserved space. Straining his neck to look at her one last time, he found her exiting the large gate into the street.

He got out of the car and stood there, eyes in the gate's direction, until his mom called out.

"Are you coming?"

**********

The following week, Mark had almost forgotten the incident and went to the same supermarket to pick up some toiletries.

His mother was not with him and it was a Thursday evening. The place was much less crowded, perhaps because of the game. Which he was also in a hurry to get back and watch.

"Sir, here's a cart."

Mark turned around to find a young man in the shop's uniform thrusting the smaller shopping basket his way.

"Don't need it. Just getting a couple of these." He replied.

"Oh," Was the staff's reply.

Moments later, with two bottles of wine in one hand and a bunch of toiletries balanced on the other, using his jaw for support, he marched carefully to the nearest checkout counter. Only a few feet from the counter, Philip Gonza, the owner of the place, blocked his path.

"Need a cart?" He mocked.

"I'm checking out. Move." Mark replied, going around the man.

Soon, he had deposited his items on the counter and was bringing out his wallet when he saw her. The yellow dress girl from last time.

This time, she wore the supermarket's uniform and was sitting behind the next cash register to his own. For a moment, he considered taking his items there instead, but there was a short queue on that side. He reflected that he should've accepted the cart.

Once again as he was paying, he willed her to look up. To see him. It didn't work this time. Her eyes moved between her monitor and the counter only.

The supermarket speaker came on with the voice of a commentator, reminding him that he was in a hurry to go watch the game. He finished paying and started to leave, still looking and willing the girl to see him.

He walked past and her attention did not waver from the work she was doing.

"She works here, huh." He murmured to himself, racing to where he parked. "The game, the game, the game."

**************

Months later.

Solana arrived home from yet another failed interview and flung her bag on the chair in frustration. She had done poorly and knew she wasn't getting the job. The cosmetic company had also replied with a declined email, so she decided she was still pathetic and destitute. Turning on the air conditioner, the familiar buzzing that filled the silent room was quickly accompanied by the sound of her ringing phone.

She quickly kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the sofa bed while getting the phone out of her bag.

It was the supermarket manager. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of his name. She braced herself to sound as sick as possible.

"Hello, Mr. Gonza."

"Just saw you getting off a cab." He said.

"Are you sure? Because I'm indoors." Her heart was thumping in her chest.

"Yes, I'm sure. You got out of a dirty white cab moments ago, Solana."

"Oh. Yeah, I was getting back from the pharmacy."

"I see. Self-medication huh."

The comment sounded like mockery and for a brief moment, Solana considered hanging up and turning off her phone. She could lie that her battery was low and died suddenly.

Brushing off the idea, she replied, "It's woman sickness, Mr. Gonza. I didn't need to see a doctor."

"Hmm OK. Feel better." He hung up.

"Damn!" She exhaled as she allowed her head to drop on the large sofa's backrest.

The man (her boss) was a strict, by-the-book fellow. What he lacked in his kind eyes, he made up for it in his cold, one-liner, direct, manner of speech. Mr. Gonza didn't mince words when he spoke.

She recalled his last interaction with a former staff member, which she witnessed from behind a shelf in the store. It had been with the pretty Fiona, one of the former cashiers. Solana had been helping with inventory that day because Jonah was on sick leave.

"You asked to see me?" At the sound of Fiona's voice, she had quietly tiptoed to the most comfortable eavesdropping spot closest to Mr. Gonza's desk. He hadn't asked the girl to sit. Instead, he had stood up from his chair to stand in front of her.

Solana recalled thinking she was about to witness an office tryst. The cool, no-BS manager was involved with a cashier, huh? He had to know someone was somewhere inside this store. Or didn't he? She had been so wrong and it had only taken a moment for her conclusion to self-correct itself.

"You are pretty. But I'm sure you already know this." Mr. Gonza had the kindest smile on his face when he said this, causing the girl to blush with a shy smile. If Fiona had known what would follow that compliment, maybe she would have saved her smile for another situation.

The kind expression on the manager's face had quickly been replaced by an earnestness that wiped the smile off Fiona's face, even before she heard the next comment.

The manager had placed a hand on his chest when he continued. "I'm confident you'll find many people out there willing to entertain your tardiness and lackadaisical attitude to work." His expression had been so kind yet serious, that one would've thought he was preaching the word of god to the girl.

"You're fired, dear." He even patted her arm gently when he walked past her.

Fiona had stood there stunned and open-mouthed. Solana had tried to hurry back to continue her counting and recording, but she was sure the manager caught her from the way he paused by the door before heading out.

That talk with Fiona was the longest she had heard Mr. Gonza interacting one-on-one with a staff member. She had been working there for barely two months at the time. That was when she quickly learned that, even though this job was a low-pay temporary one, the manager did not tolerate any form of nonsense. He also was not into giving many chances because from what she heard afterwards, Fiona only got one warning. Strike two was the pink slip.

Damn it, I hope he believed me. He had seen her on the road when she had claimed she was ill and couldn't come to work. She feared what he might do about it. Well, she would find out tomorrow, wouldn't she? No matter how wretched the job was to her, getting fired was a bitch though. It was better to quit on one's own terms.

Tomorrow arrived and Solana arrived early at the supermarket. She couldn't help but worry about yesterday. What would Mr. Gonza say once she inevitably runs into him? Like clockwork, she was about to sign in to begin work that morning when she heard her full name.

"Solana Jang." The boss called out as he marched briskly into the staff hall.

*** Solana ***

Solana's heart was in her stomach as Mr. Gonza approached. Linda, his assistant, was beside him. She had a file under her arm as she typed on her phone with one hand.

'Please god, I still need this job... for food... and rent.'

Her boss slowed his strides when he came a few feet closer.

"Good morning, Mr. Gonza. Miss Lance." She greeted the two.

"You're early today." Her boss said.

He had a curious frown on his face. She wondered if there was a right and wrong reply to that comment.

"I woke up early." Lame reply, she thought.

"Oh. Sweet. The meds must've worked wonders." He said.

Was that sarcasm? She would never know because she lacked the courage to ask. "I... guess." She mumbled.

The silence didn't last three seconds but it started to get awkward fast before he said,

"Well, it's good to know you're better now. Enjoy." He walked off into the sales floor with Linda trailing behind.

"Thanks... sir." She murmured.

"I don't think he heard that, Sol. He's gone." Kofi said from the doorway. "Sup? Are you better?"

Solana recalled that the boss was not the only victim of her lie. Every staff member who noticed her absence would've asked and been informed that she was ill.

"Yeah, I'm better. Miss me?" She asked.

"Nah. It's polite to ask, that's why. And I'm a great guy." Her colleague replied.

Smirking, she left him at the clocking machine and proceeded to her locker to get dressed.

The day went on normally and as she clocked out of work, she felt relaxed and grateful that she hadn't lost her job.

Those pleasant feelings were short-lived. When she got home that evening, another fear quickly replaced the one from earlier in the day.

*******

Solana could feel her heart sinking into her stomach as she stared at her best friend. This can't be happening.

"So you're moving out?"

"Not really moving... out." Julie looked guilty and it made Sol feel worse for making the girl uncomfortable.

"He invited me and I've missed him, so I didn't refuse." She lowered her eyes in guilt again before adding, "And I won't be back soon."

Translation: She was moving out of the city to live with her fiance. She was not coming back anytime soon meant she was never coming back. They would be married soon.

Solana wished she could hide the sick look on her face, but she wasn't ready to stop living with her best friend just yet. Especially because of the cost.

"What about work?" She asked Julie.

"You know my type of work, girl. No work, no pay. Plus, everyone is shifting to remote jobs nowadays. Isn't that why we're taking that free digital marketing course?"

Solana wanted to tell her that she was taking the course to improve her resume and chances of finding work. Not to move out of town with a man and get a work-from-home job. She didn't say that, however. It was not the point.

Julie had been working as a freelance marketer for a loan and credit company. She only made money when she brought in clients. And sometimes, she made much more than Solana. Together they could afford the rent and utilities. Alone, with her cashier job, she could not.

Friends were supposed to be happy for each other when good things happened. And moving out of town with one's fiance was a good thing, right? Solana was not happy and she was ashamed of herself.

She thought it was shameful that her displeasure stemmed from the fact that rent was due in two weeks. She won't be able to meet up. Her half was nearly complete and it was not enough to keep the place or find a new apartment. The worst part was that she couldn't even hide her feelings.

"I'm so sorry, Sol. I know it's short notice and unexpected-"

"So postpone the move. Tell him to come, instead." She knew she sounded desperate but she didn't care.

"The truth is I don't have my half of the rent." Her friend blurted. "And to be honest, I need to save for the wedding too. I can't leave all the responsibility to David, it's not fair. When he asked me to join him, for the fourth time, I thought it was an opportunity to save on rent while being close to him, you know."

From the look in her eyes to the way she shifted nervously and avoided eye contact, Solana realized the decision was tough for Julie too. The girl was being reasonable.

She had refused to move in with the guy even when he was here in the city. Even though she claimed she didn't believe in living together until marriage, Sol always knew it was partly because of her. If she was agreeing to do it now, there was a good reason for it. It wasn't fair to make her feel worse than she already felt.

"It's okay, Jul. I understand." She nodded and the relief in her friend's eyes made her smile.

"You do?" Julie came to hug her.

"Just that I'm going to miss you." She returned the tight hug.

"C'mon, how many hours of flight is it? We'll still see each other often." Her friend said in a voice thick with tears.

"True," Solana whispered, even though she knew it wasn't entirely true. Distance was a barrier to close friendships. Life would definitely get in the way and they would be lucky if they didn't go back to being strangers.

When they let go, Julie asked, "So what are going to do about rent?"

"I'll figure it out."

But how did she do that? Where did she even start? Solana took a deep breath to keep herself from panicking. She still had two weeks, at least.

**********

*** Mark ***

Mark sat on the smooth grass next to his mother's grave, urging himself to wake up from this bad dream. It had to be a dream, he told himself over and over again as he took another drag from his weed. The sun had now turned from yellow to white, and it hurt his eyes when he tried to look overhead.

The gravestone in front of him seemed to disappear when he lowered his eyes, away from the sun. In its place was an indistinct shape he couldn't make out.

"On to the next scene." He whispered.

That was how dreams worked, wasn't it? One moment you're here. The next moment, you find yourself somewhere else, doing something entirely different. Except there was no next scene. His vision had cleared quickly. The gravestone was still in front of him and his mother's name was clearly inscribed upon it. He checked his wristwatch. Five minutes had passed since he last checked.

It is said that if you ever feel confused about whether you are dreaming or awake, check the time, then look at something else. Check the time again, and if it has changed to a completely different time, you are definitely in dreamland. If not, it is real life.

His watch showed that the time had changed alright. But it had only moved forward five minutes. Did that count? He wondered.

Mark took the last drag from his weed, inhaling deeply before blowing out the smoke again. His mother hated this habit so much, he thought that perhaps she would appear and haunt him if he kept at it beside her grave. A stupid thought but the only hope he had of seeing her one last time.

Since the day after the funeral, visiting the cemetery to sit here on his arse had been his routine. It was hard to believe she was gone. He couldn't accept it.

And how could she have lied to him? "Don't worry, I'm not dying. Just a little tired, that's all." Her very last words to him. He hadn't even asked. She had deliberately deceived him. Even though her breathing had been labored, Mark recalled how that promise calmed his terror. It was the second time she had fainted all of a sudden.

He had sat by her bed reading her favorite Maya Angelou poem to her. Barely an hour after her unforgivable lie, she had gone into cardiac arrest and never came out. The doctor had pronounced her dead. Like they do in horror movies.

That had been the start of this unending bad dream. His worst nightmare came into reality that evening. And he had been willing himself to wake up since then.

Mark checked his pocket for the last wrap of weed, but it was gone. Wow, did he already smoke them all? He couldn't recall at what point he lit one wrap after another. All four were gone. Should have bought more, he chided himself.

The plan was to continue to defy the woman until she appeared and began the haunting. Why was it taking so long? Why wasn't it working? He was stupid. This was a waste of time. Yet he couldn't bring himself to stop coming here.

That she thought someone like him could save her precious motel was her final joke. He wasn't saving shit because he couldn't.

The problem was if he didn't, he'd be homeless and penniless in six months' time. Another reason to hate her for leaving.

His hot take, after the will was revealed, was that his mother hated him as a son. She considered him a disappointing offspring who didn't deserve any inheritance.

The woman knew he had zero skills and hated everything. The only thing he sometimes came close enough to enjoy was Numbers. And whenever he got involved, the madam always started to nag about how if he helped her often enough, the accounts wouldn't be so messy.

Then she would go on to blame her 'impregnator' and his entire family for all her troubles.

Mark never knew his father. The only thing he knew of him was that most of his mother's problems were the old man's fault and the fact that he died too early. Then she would go on and complain of feeling so tired with all the stress.

Shit! He should've paid attention. He cursed as his heart started to hurt again like he was being stabbed.

The loud honk from a truck in the street brought Mark out of his thoughts. He checked his watch again. It was almost 9 a.m.

"Time to go sit in your precious motel and pretend life has any meaning. You know. Like you did all your life."

He tried to lift himself off the grass, but his legs had gone to sleep due to the position he sat in for so long. He sat back down, adjusted himself, and waited for his legs to regain their senses. Moments later, he stood up, eyes still on the tombstone, telling himself he would wake up at some point.

*** Phil ***

Philip Gonza drove his black Mazda into his street mart private parking lot, waving to the security staff members as he passed. He parked at his usual reserved spot beside the Khaya tree, near the supermarket entrance. Turning off the engine caused the car radio to go off too, bringing the usual calm and quiet that he loved so much at this time of day.

Phil checked the time again. It was already 7.25. The sun was coming up full now. The Ever-Good supermarket did not open to customers until 8.15 AM and his self-assigned resumption time was 7.50. Although he liked to arrive at least twenty minutes earlier. It gave him time to chill in his car and fiddle with his phone or just let his mind roam.

This was his routine every morning since his father handed him this shop. He loved sitting under this slightly large tree with his car door open in the mornings before resuming his duties. The only sound at this time was of birds singing atop the tree. Cars honked out in the street, but the sound was too distant to bother anyone sitting here at this hour.

Even the heat of the morning sun could not get to him underneath the tree especially this time of the year when the tree's shade was this thick. He liked watching the morning shift staff walk into the supermarket premises to resume their shift. As much as he hated tardiness, this was not a witch hunt. The clocking machine did that job for him. It easily determined who was constantly late for their duties. Watching the staff come in was now part of his morning thing.

At this time, some morning shift workers should have already entered before he arrived because they started work at 7.40. He bet his assistant was already in there. These ones were in the punctual category. They always came in before their resumption time. Then there were those who always walked in at the exact time, if not one minute late. The third category was those who were perpetually five or ten minutes late.

As long as they came in before 8 AM, he often turned a blind eye to the latecomers, pretending not to notice them. He didn't waste energy on trivialities like that. The most important thing was competence and seriousness in their duties.

Phil's eyes moved to the gate and he spotted one of the cashiers coming inside the premises. She had just walked through the gate. It was Miss Blue nails. She greeted the security guy with a smile and waved at someone else whom Phil could not see from where he sat. No doubt it was the other security guard.

The girl was dressed in denim today, top and bottom. The top had very small sleeves, it could've been a sleeveless top. Her deep black kinky curls were folded up as usual, but that shiny thingy on the ribbon caught the sunlight, causing her face to glint. He quickly looked away as she continued to head towards his direction to go round back into the staff entrance. He kept looking at her through his window glass as she walked by.

This one was among the one-minute late category. Hell, she was the only one in that category. No one else came in for work exactly one minute before or after their shift resumption time. He could bet that the girl always hid somewhere every time, looking at her watch to make sure she was not one minute too early for work. It was also the same when she closed. She never lingered around the supermarket afterward. You would never find her here five minutes after her shift's closing time.

Maybe today was the day she would hand in her resignation, Phil thought. He expected it every day when he saw her walking into the premises. From the moment she had started working here, he had known this one was not going to stick around for too long. It wasn't that she was incompetent. No. It was the contrary. She was overqualified for the role and clearly, she was holding on while actively searching for a better opportunity. Too bad, there was no room for promotion at this time in the supermarket.

There was nothing new about the fact that most people were stuck in jobs they hated. In fact, the majority of people were in that situation. Phil tried to think of anyone he knew who loved their job. No one came to mind. The girl did her job quite well, but she didn't hide the fact that she hated it here. He was not sure how he felt about that because this was his business.

Every once in a while, she would come up with an excuse to skip work. And Phil knew it was to attend an interview somewhere. He did not blame or hate her for it. He was no enemy of progress. But the other day, he spent a good deal of his day wondering what to do when he caught her red-handed.

It was the day he went to Madam Daniels' funeral, God rest her soul. He was leaving the cemetery that day when he spotted her in front of the Coca-Cola kiosk right across the street.

She had called in sick in the morning and he had found himself nearly worrying. Not that he had any business feeling that way. The girl had sounded so low on the phone and he had believed she truly was not well. Imagine his shock when he saw her standing by the kiosk, buying a drink, and then proceeding to sit on the ugly bench under the torn Coca-Cola umbrella some hours after she called.

He had almost missed her because of the silly half-head cap she was wearing. But her hair had been tied the same way using her favorite ash-gray ribbon with the shiny thing. Well, she wore it more often, so it must be her favorite.

She looked very formal and healthy in her button-down gown that for a moment, he forgot she had called in sick some four hours ago. From where he stood, he had also seen her very formal shoes. The type of shoes that career, independent ladies like to wear.

He recalled thinking she was probably on her way to an important meeting. Like an interview. That was when he quickly came to his senses and became confused about what to do. Like a creepy stalker, he had gotten into his car and followed her till she entered a shared taxi. Fortunately, the taxi had been heading in the direction leading back to the supermarket. Once in her street, the car stopped and she got out. It appeared she had been on her way home from the "important meeting." He didn't know what pushed him to call her. When he did, she continued with the lie.

Here he was, some two weeks later, and he was still unsure how he felt about that episode. Although he didn't know when, at some point, he had decided there was nothing to do about it. If she was still coming to work, it meant she had not gotten lucky. Yet. But soon, she would. Good for her, when that time comes.

If there was an open higher position here, he could ask her to try for it. Unfortunately, there was none. Phil decided he was giving Miss blue nails too much space in his head, so he shook himself quickly. Working as a cashier in a supermarket was not a permanent role for someone like her. Besides, workers come and go in this line of business, especially in that role. No one would want to keep that job forever. Or for longer than five months. The fact that he recalled the time she started working here was something that bothered him.

Checking the time, it was 7.45 now. He decided to head in and begin work for the day, anyway. It was better to fill his mind with his job rather than the temp staff. It was better to get busy rather than sit here worrying if today was the last day he would see her walk into this premises to resume her shift as usual.

Once inside, he didn't go into his office or the store like he normally did. Like he should. Instead, he went into the supermarket, telling himself he needed to check on things there first. He kept his eyes away from all the cash points to prove to himself that this was his true reason for coming onto the sales floor. But his resolve lasted less than two minutes. In a moment, he found his eyes moving from one cash counter to the next.

"Is it today then?" He murmured.

Solana Jang was nowhere in sight. One cash register sat vacant. Phil felt his stomach go sour as he climbed up to his office. She was probably waiting there to see him.

His hand lingered on the door to his office before he opened it hesitantly.