Her Halloween was a working day. No big deal. She loved making money. With the boss' permission, she put cute dog-sized costumes on the dogs. Nothing uncomfortable. Gunner got a light vest and a soft hat that weakly imitated a bumblebee. Baby Blue got a fairly stupid cow hoodie.
Any remaining awkwardness had been packed away and ignored. Pearl felt comfortable looking Mr. Booker in the eye now. Time really did heal wounds, or at least the silliest ones.
The house was in pretty good shape. She found herself doing mostly lighter work. Dusting, vacuuming, and playing around with the dogs to keep them from going crazy. She even played music on her phone and danced with them. Each dog got to take turns getting on their hind legs and putting their front paws in Pearl's hands, hopping and stepping around and around. They loved the attention. They also loved the belly rubs that came when Pearl got tired of it all.
In the middle of the day, as Pearl was eating her lunch, she realized there wasn't much left to do. She considered texting Mr. B to ask if she could go home early, but then she thought she could just make up busy work for herself to keep the hours. She wouldn't get paid a whole day for only half a day's work. Why not stay? Maybe she could text the boss and ask if he needed her to go on any errands? But then he'd know that she didn't have much to do and he'd send her home.
When she was taking the last bites of her sandwich, she heard the front door being opened. Then Baby Blue ran up to see his Daddy. Boss was home early.
He sauntered into the kitchen with a cheeky little smile. He looked like he'd just beaten someone in rap battle or something. "Hey there. Good news." He took some strips of paper out of his pocket. "Someone gave me some coupons for dog food."
"Oh that's nice." Pearl smiled and stood up. "Dog food can be really expensive, especially for the big boys."
"I wonder when the expiration date is," he mindlessly said as he held the coupons up to his eyes. "I want to go shopping tomorrow." His eyelids drew back. His tone became hurried and hectic. "Shit. They expire tomorrow. I'll have to go back to town today."
"Would it be worth the gas money to go?" Pearl asked.
Shrugging, putting the coupons in his wallet, Mr. Booker said, "Sure, as long as I buy other stuff too. Want to come with me?"
Pointing her head at the punch clock, deciding to be honest, Pearl told him, "I should probably clock out. Things are cool here, and I don't want to waste any more of your money."
Slipping his wallet into a back pocket of his jeans, the man said, "Okay, clock out, but you're still welcome to ride with me. You can get your own shopping done and save on gas."
Pearl hesitated for a bit, a hand on her hip. Then her shoulder quirked up and she agreed. She didn't have anything better to do. She clocked out, got paid, and joined Mr. Booker in saying goodbye to the doggos.
Off to Walmart!
The inside of Mr. Booker's truck was decently clean, if cluttered. Lots of loose receipts. A few one dollar bills and some change in random spots. A few old magazines. Things like that. The air freshener hanging on the rear-view mirror was giving off a pumpkin spice scent. Wonderfully appropriate.
The driver's seat was pulled so far back that if there was a passenger behind Mr. B in the back seat their legs would probably be snapped in half. He looked very comfortable there, like a ruler in a sedan chair, except for the whole "hands on the steering wheel" thing.
Pearl looked through the window on her side and tried to let her mind wander, but the driver was apparently feeling talkative.
"Hey, I really appreciate that you've been working here. I mean, I just handed you the key to my house, and you haven't stolen anything. I don't think you even took any of my lemon bars." He was referring to packaged, fiber, diet things that came in surprisingly lovely flavors. His favorites were the lemon bars.
"Hm? Oh, well I'm glad to have the job." She tried to sink back into her imagination.
He yanked her back out. "Your house is sacred, and trusting someone to go into it, especially someone that's not even family, that really is something. It means a lot."
"I guess so." She crossed her legs and looked ahead. The road was mostly empty. "But I feel like you're complimenting me for trying to be a decent human being. It doesn't feel right."
"Oh." He sounded a little bit offended, but not so much that he'd turn angry. "Okay." He cleared his throat. "My mama said you used to have a boyfriend."
Her foot making little circles in the air, Pearl said, "Your mama and my mama talk a lot. So that makes sense."
"Mind if I ask what happened?"
Her upper body declined as she wrapped her arms around herself. A sticky, slimy pain emerged under her ribs. "Car crash. Drunk driver rammed into him."
She heard the hissing rushing past his teeth. "Shit, Girl. I'm sorry."
"He was a good man." She took in what she hoped was a bracing breath. "But I guess all I can do is go on."
"Yeah. Guess so."
A few more blessed moments of silence were enjoyed, or at least Pearl enjoyed them, and then Mr. B spoke again.
"So, how do you feel about soul food?"
"I never even learned what that is." The new subject had her forgetting her sadness. "I've heard about it for years but what is it, exactly? What dishes are there?"
She turned to look at him. His brow was knitted in thought. "Uh, fatback, black-eyed peas, collards," his finger tapped the steering wheel with each thing he listed, "okra, cornbread, hush-puppies, banana pudding, cobbler."
Her dark eyebrows rising, her face loosening a bit, Pearl said, "That's soul food?! All this time I thought it was some special stuff mostly Black people ate, but really it's all just stuff I grew up eating."
A little smirk grew on his face. "My mama's going to make a bunch of food for the church homecoming. You going?"
"I don't know." Her hands went to her lap, fingers laced. "I only go to church because my parents want me to. Their house, their rules."
Lacking any sass, not even a hint of judgment, Mr. B said, "Maybe you should move out now that you got some money in the bank."
"Sounds good. I need to look into that."
They were just getting into civilization, a place where there were a little bit less trees and more buildings. Mr. B said, "You know, I'm really the same as you. I only go to church to keep the family happy. Sometimes I almost have to fight to get them to leave me alone when I want to skip a Sunday."
