"Chrissy! Open the door!"
Just as I'm watering my beautiful kumquat and trying to distract myself, the phone beeps, and I growl as I realize that I'm not the only whose day was ruined because of Mr. fungus's annoyingness.
Is this your hot boss shou...
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Ah, what a wonderful day it is to be alive!
For the second time in less than a year, I stand on the balcony in all my jobless glory, my hair up in a messy bun that a sparrow eyes from the roof of the facing building. It's probably wondering once again whether my head would serve as a good nest to lay eggs.
Good thing I kept my pretty pink robe. I sure miss little "Elvis", the stain I got on it the night I hit Samuel with poison Ivy. Proudly carrying the third jar of chocolate spread for the week, I walk out into the balcony and breathe in the fresh scent of my plants.
"Chrys, darling, how are you holding up?" asks Sunny as she gives me the same look she'd given me yesterday, and the one before.
"Very good, thanks."
"You look like shit," throws Windy, surprised to see me throwing spoonful after other of chocolate into my mouth.
"Let me see," I muse, getting closer to the railing, "My career is doomed. The second he realized I was of no use to him anymore, the only man I trusted left me to rot alone in this hellhole. If I don't get kicked out for not paying rent, of course..."
Before I get to continue the narration of my unfortunate post-symbiotic life, I brush a hand through my hair only to have my elbow knock one of the pots, sending it to smash on the asphalt.
The next few minutes are a blur as I run downstairs and kneel to scoop out the unfortunate baby I'd thrown from above.
"No no no, not you!" I cry, tears burning as they water the scattered bed of soil. With the cactus in hand, I ignore every pain signal my skin sends in response to it touching the pointy thorns. Memory after the other, nostalgia hits me as I remember the day Ashton got me this cactus.
In case anyone messes with you, you'll have something to pin on their forehead - Your boss
"I'd love to pin it on your head, fungus!" I hiss, unable to stop the flooding going down my cheeks.
Just then, a testosterone-gorged voice fills the street, freezing me in place.
"Chrysanthemum Saaid!"
Standing in his tanned glory, Juniper puts down his backpack and then takes a good look at the hot mess his niece is. Only my brain does not register whatever else he says. The only thing I feel myself doing is running to hug him, pleading him to have found a cure to make the pain in my chest go away.
"You were right, they all hurt in the end."
🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃
"I'm right here if you need anything else," says Gingko as she goes back behind the counter, leaving two steaming cups of coffee on the table.
"So he left?" asks Juniper, taking a sip of the still scorching drink. When I nod in response while running my finger over Elvis over and over again, he continues, tension building up in his tone. "Since you knew he was a fungus, why did you stay with him?"
