1. Marcy's Playground 1 by loyalsock


    Date: 9/5/2017, Categories: First Time Author: loyalsock 

    ... barely half-way down my back. My point is that Bevvie and I are as different looking as Laurel and Hardy, or whatever their names were. Bevvie's my only good friend. I'm a book person. I'm a little on the quiet and shy side. I'm friendly, but I love books so much I'd rather spend time with them than most people. So the fact that Bevvie and I are best friends is weird. But we live on the same block. We've been BFFs since middle school. I'm damn lucky to have her. I started crying. I put down the ice cream. &#034Awwww, sweetie,&#034 she said, and engulfed me in her big body, even though I was hot and sweaty. &#034It's not a big deal. It was just a shitty job.&#034 &#034I know,&#034 I said through sobs, &#034but—&#034 hiccup— &#034I was hoping to have my weekends free to go down the lake and sit in the shade and read and be relaxed about it. I wanted to save up to buy a new car for college. My car is older than I am, literally.&#034 &#034You'll get another job.&#034 &#034Yeah? Where?&#034 She pushed me away from her a little, and ate more ice cream with a thoughtful look on her face. Then she snapped her fingers. &#034I know, the Jangensens, next door. I overheard them talking a few days ago that they needed a receptionist. I didn't ask about it because I know their business is somewhere out in the boonies, in Jasper county, like 45 minutes away. It probably doesn't pay for shit.&#034 &#034Yeah, but if it's not too busy a desk I could read on the job,&#034 I said. &#034Why don't ...
    ... you ask them? But you better hurry up, that was a few days ago.&#034 &#034Thanks, Bev. You're the best.&#034 I hurried home, took a quick shower, put on a pair of khakis and a pink polo shirt and walked over there. I didn't know the Jangensens at all, but I had seen them watering their lawn and coming and going. They were a nice looking couple, in their late 60s maybe, and looked like everybody's slightly doughy grandparents. I knocked on the door, and Mr. Jangensen answered. I re-introduced myself, and told them Bevvie had overheard they might have a job opening, and I'd be interesting in applying. He gave me a really weird look. &#034How old are you?&#034 &#034Eighteen.&#034 He frowned slightly. &#034I know that's young, but I have a lot of experience from school doing business stuff, like working on the yearbook coordinating advertising. I'm very responsible.&#034 I wiped my forehead. It was the hottest summer on record, and I was starting to sweat. He sighed. &#034Come in.&#034 Their house was nice, really nice. I didn't know the name brands, but I could tell all the furniture and paintings and everything were expensive and classy. Mrs. Jangensen came out, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. &#034We have a visitor,&#034 Mr. Jangensen said. &#034Marcy, right?&#034 she said. &#034Yes ma'am.&#034 &#034Marcy wants to apply for the job of front desk,&#034 he said. Something about the way he said it was weird. Like he paused too long before the word apply and stretched it out too ...
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