40. It doesn't matter

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TARA

I wish I could say I felt bad about leaving Sheila on her own to go to class, but ... I didn't. I did feel bad about ditching Lukas first thing in the morning, though. For the first time since we live together, I skipped breakfast and went out a lot earlier than usual. Hell, I pretty much sneaked out of the apartment before he even came back from jogging. I just couldn't face him again, not yet, not with my head still running rampant like this. Being in his bed without him only made everything worse, in fact I barely slept a wink.

I was so tired that I was kind of grateful to have an excuse not to take notes. I let technology do the magic, with the recorder capturing the audio and the speech to text app of my tablet transcribing it. It's all I can do right now anyway, I even had to go tell my professor, so that she knows I have a reason not to be working on my thesis for now. She was supportive, but ... she also pointed out I could dictate everything and let the technology do the rest, which made me feel like an idiot for not thinking about it earlier.

The next step was telling Fran. Usually, I don't work on weekends unless I need to, so she still hadn't seen me. That's why, the moment I entered the café, she gasped so loud that a couple of customers worried she was having a heart attack. "Get off of me, I'm fine." She shooed them away, mildly offending them, in fact they left quickly. "What the hell happened to you?" Did I mention Fran is no frail old lady? She's a force to reckon with.

I gave her a small smile. "Domestic incident. I have to keep this," I hinted at the sling, "for about 1 or 2 weeks." I pursed my lips. "Of course, I don't expect you to-"

"Nonsense." Fran scoffed, gesturing for me to take a seat at one of the tables, even though the café was pretty much full. "By law I'm supposed to pay you sick leave anyway."

"Well, technically not." I pointed out. Because she seemed confused, I explained: "According to the Massachusetts labor laws, when a company has less than 11 employees, the employee must accrue sick time. If I don't, you're allowed not to pay me for the days or hours I didn't work when I was supposed to." I fixed my glasses on my nose, more out of habit than because I really needed to. "I haven't exactly accrued sick time, have I?"

"You've been working here for 3 years, barely missing a day." Fran scoffed. "You're my best employee, I can very well pay you sick leave without calling in the accountant to make a fuss out of it."

I chuckled. "I'm your only employee, Fran. Unless you count Bonnie & Clyde over there," I hinted at the counter, where her grandson was more interested in kissing his girlfriend than serving clients, "actual workers."

On cue, she glanced at them, narrowing her eyes. "Harry!" She scolded. "You can suck Blondie's face on your time off, now move it!" He was so startled that he almost dropped the girl, causing a few laughs here and there, but they did get to work. Fran sighed, turning to me. "That boy is going to be my ruin."

It was counterproductive for me, but I care too much about her to be sly here: "Listen, Fran, I ... between sick leave and the increasing workload for my last semester before graduation, I think you might need to hire someone to cover mornings at least."

"That's what Dumb and Dumber over there are here for." She hinted at the two teenagers hustling around.

"Don't they have school?"

"They both dropped out last year."

"Oh." I nodded. "Uh ... his mom is ok with that?"

Fran shrugged. "She thinks he can take over the café when I'm dead."

That was blunt even for her. I blinked my eyes, marveled. "Are you ..."

"I'm fine, Tara. Perfectly fine. But that doesn't stop the vultures from flying over my undead carcass already."

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