Cherry Land Chapters

Illustration by Nik Garvoille

“Excuse me,” Amber squeezes between a busty, freckled woman sipping on a Bloody Mary and a toddler streaked with sunblock crouching over a tossed Tootsie Roll. “Look, look what I got!” he plucks the candy from the scorched, crowded sidewalk and balances with the help of Amber’s leg. “Oops. Excuse me,” Amber says, the boy’s greasy arms clinging to her calf until he spots a mini packet of Starbursts.

The plan was to meet in front of the Yum Yum Tree, under the shaded awning where Amber stands, a fanny pack rubbing against her back, a woman’s hair brushing against her cheek as she rises on her tip toes and scans a sea of strangers. “Where is he, where is he, where is he?” she whispers.

A stream of water strikes a bearded, laughing man a few feet in front of her. “Oh, God,” she ducks behind a line of spectators as shirtless firefighters shoot Super Soakers from the back of a silver pickup truck. A fire truck blares its whiny horn. The Democrats hand out flyers. Horses clip and clap down the highway with straight-faced adolescents wearing cowboy hats on their backs.

“Amber? Amber.” Matty waves, revealing a damp circle of sweat under his arm.

“Hi,” she smiles.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asks, his eyes hidden behind dark Ray Bans.

“Uh – well, I can’t find my friends.”

“Meet my family,” Matty gestures to the blonde woman holding a sweating bottle of Evian. “This is Sarah.”

“You don’t want to shake my hand – it’s so damn hot today,” Sarah says, tugging her hair back into a ponytail. Amber laughs.

“And this is Andrew,” says Matty. “This is Amber, my new receptionist.” A lanky boy with oversized teeth offers a tightlipped smile. “He’s shy around pretty girls.”

“No, no I’m not,” says the boy.

“Matty,” sighs Sarah. “Why do you have to make him uncomfortable?”

“Oh, come on,” chuckles Matty, pulling on the collar of his tight, blue polo, revealing a patch of graying chest hair. “So, how does it feel to not be serving the tourists today?”

“Oh, great. Weird. I honestly feel a bit bad,” she says. “Most of my friends are working.”

“No, no. You enjoy yourself. Remember, you don’t have to be in the office until noon tomorrow.”

•••

Amber exhaled on her cushioned, revolving office chair in an air-conditioned room with beige carpet and framed prints of Door County sunsets adorning the cream-colored walls.

“You think you’ll be okay for awhile?” asked Matty, holding a manila folder to his chest, the keys to his BMW jingling around his pointer finger.

“Yes,” Amber crossed her legs.

“What do you say when the phone rings?”

“Hello, Matthew Pearson’s office; this is Amber speaking, how may I help you?”

“Good girl.”

Amber smiled and logged onto her Hotmail account when Matty shut the door and said, “Be back in an hour.”

“I’m an official career girl,” she typed in a message to her mom and sister, grabbing a complimentary mint from a shallow dish beside Matty’s business cards. “I am at this very moment sitting in an air conditioned building with a pencil skirt and cardigan. I feel like I’m in Mad Men, but not really. Haha.”

•••

“Babe, there you are,” Brian wraps an arm around Amber’s shoulders, the condensation from his bottle of Coors Light runs down her bare back.

“What the hell, I called you like six times,” says Amber. “We we’re supposed to meet at the Yum Yum Tree.” Three men in tan Army uniforms pass between Amber and Brian. “Thanks soldier. Thanks.” Brian says. Amber smiles.

Brian wipes sweat from his tan brow.

“You have a farmer tan,” Amber lifts the sleeve of his blue Milwaukee Brewers t-shirt.

“I am a farmer,” he smiles. “Tyler, can you get a beer for the lady?”

Tyler reaches in an old Igloo cooler, melting ice cubes tinkle as he finds a bottle.

“Where were you?” asks Katie, removing neon-framed sunglasses.

“I ran into Matty.”

“New boss man,” says Tyler. “You two have office talk?”

“I met his family.”

“You’re old boss passed by,” says Katie, rising from her lawn chair and pulling down her khaki shorts. “You seen him since you quit?”

“No,” says Amber. “And I didn’t quit. I’ll still help out.”

“He’s pretty pissed,” says Tyler. “It’s understandable, you quit right before peak season.”

“I didn’t quit,” repeats Amber, swigging her Coors Light.

“What kind of perks do you have working for Matthew?” asks Brian.

“A steady paycheck and no whining customers,” says Amber. “I feel like I can breathe there.”

“I have no more free food or free delivery,” Brian pinches Amber’s side. “What good are you now?”

Amber shakes her head.

“I’m just kidding,” he kisses her temple.

•••

Amber unlocks the office door at noon, the phone rings.

“Hello, Matthew Pearson’s office; this is Amber, how may I help you?” She hunches over the desk, dropping her oversized purse on the carpet.

“Is Mr. Pearson there?”

“No.”

“Well, will you do me a favor and tell him I got his bill and he can shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

“What’s your name?” Amber’s hand trembles as she takes a pen from a silver cup.

“He thinks I’m going to pay $368 dollars to him! What a load of crap. I’m not. You understand? I’m not paying!”

“Okay. What’s your name?” Amber bites her lower lip. The front door opens, a man wearing a red tie enters holding a briefcase. Heat rises up Amber’s neck.

“I tell you what, I ripped that bill right up. I threw it in my burning barrel cause this is ridiculous.”

The man picks up her dropped purse. Amber pulls the phone cord around the desk and sits in her chair.

“Sir, what’s your name?” she holds her palm over the speaker. “Thank you, I’ll be right with you,” she whispers to the man. He nods. Another light blinks on the phone, an incoming call.

“My name Carl Finnel. You writing this down?”

“Yes.”

“C-A-R-L-F-I-N-N-E-L,” the man shouts, and then hangs up.

“Hi, I’m Blair with Smart Mart Office Supplies. What’s your name?”

“Amber.”

“Did you have a good Fourth of July?”

“Yeah, it was great.”

The phone rings and rings again.

“Uh – my boss isn’t here and I don’t know if we need office supplies,” says Amber.

“That’s okay, I’ll wait.” He sits on a navy chair. The phone rings. “You going to get that?”

To read previous chapters, visit http://www.cherrylandchapters.com.