Open for Business, Chapters 4 & 5
Job hunting, provocative proposals, and jerks at bars who want to screw your wife
Welcome back to my ridiculous grad school soap opera.
After reading these chapters (shorter, so I combined two), I feel cringe. Fiction makes me feel so inauthentic. Many writers are phenomenal at the genre, but creative nonfiction is my baby.
With that, my pulled-from-consideration “Delayed Communion” piece will find a place here at MCR, probably on Monday. Kind of done with literary journals. They’ve been good to me though.
Let’s continue with the Mallorys as we learn more about their struggles in marriage, Elise’s bi-curiosity, and what the hell Georgie does anyway. That slick woman!
Need a refresher?
Want to start at the beginning?
Chapter 4
“Okay, we got a turkey avocado sandwich,” Abby said, rummaging through bags. “Here’s a lamb samosa … no, here’s two. Two of the chicken mango curry and a biryani? That’s the rice dish, right? Tandoori something, here you go, and a mountain of naan. I think that’s it.”
“Thanks, Abby,” Ethan said, not eating though he was hungry. He stared at the table of styrofoam containers and foil.
“Yeah, thanks, Abs,” the kids said, using their aunt’s nickname which she thought was hilarious since she was never the svelte sister.
“You’re welcome, babes. You’re my familia,” she replied, taking a bite out of a chutney dipped samosa.
Elise silently passed out cups and set out pitchers of water and lemonade. She also sat and just stared, but she stared at Ethan.
“So … do you want to talk, sweets?” Elise, sitting up and her eyes robotically bright, asked Ethan from across the table.
Ethan sighed deeply and said, “I got let go. My numbers were towards the bottom. I got two months severance. That’s it. There’s nothing else.”
“Well, I know how much you hated it, right? This gives you an opportunity to find something that’s more your wheelhouse, right?” Elise asked, trying to sound hopeful and not too pushy.
“Yeah, I guess. I just wish I was looking before this all went down,” Ethan said. He took a bite out of his sandwich and chewed longer than needed.
“We’ll be fine,” Elise said, reaching for a random container and committing to its contents.
“You’re copywriting only covers like a quarter of our budget, so we’re not fine.” His voice was sharp, but he didn’t care.
Elise glanced at Noah, Cora, and Abby, smiled, and said, “We’ll be fine, Ethan. We’ll figure it out. Nothing to worry about. We’ve been through worse.”
“You guys will figure it out … you always do. And if you need help, just let me know. I’m sure Dad–,” Abby said, realizing she was conjuring up a sour subject. She stuffed her mouth full of naan.
“We don’t need Mom and Dad’s help,” Elise interrupted, deadpan.
She glanced at Noah and Cora’s faces, plastered her smile back on, and became both comforted and worried over their silence.
“It’s hard here in Seattle, Elise. I can’t just sit home and tap at my computer and wait for money to come in. If we would have stayed–”