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: : : THE PHONE RINGS. Jakob looks at the caller ID box.
—It's Tim, he says.
—Fucking A, Freya says. She gets up out of her armchair and hurries to answer it.
—Hey, she says.
—Hey, says Tim, sounding sheepish.
—Man, it's good to hear your voice, she says. —I've been trying to call you for like weeks—
—Yeah, Tim says. —Sorry about that—fucking Verizon turned my phone off for a while—
—It's cool, Freya says, —I mean, I'm glad that I've got you now.
—Yeah, Tim says.
—So what's been going on? I mean, I've been talking to Paul and Mom, and they just make it sound like there's all this crazy shit happening out there—
—Yeah, it's—it's pretty bad, says Tim. —That's actually—actually why—I was hoping I could ask you something.
—Sure, she says. —What's up?
While she's saying this, she makes eye contact with Jakob and points at the bathroom door with her thumb, indicating I'm going to take this in there. Somehow in this first year of living together the bathroom has come to be the place where one can go to have a private phone conversation. Jakob signals his permission with a nod and Freya steps into the bathroom, sits on the toilet, and closes the door behind her with her foot.
—I need to get out of here, Tim says. —I just—I can't fucking take it anymore, you know? Mom—Paul—every time I see them it's like this huge thing and I can't fucking stand it but there's no place else I can go—I don't have any money and everything's all fucked up—
He breaks off and makes a long wet sniffle. Is he maybe crying? Freya can't quite tell.
—Listen, Freya says. —Listen. I want to help you, OK? I know it looks shitty right now but you're going to get through this. I can help you get through this.
—Yeah, Tim says. —OK. I was actually hoping—hoping something.
—What's that?
—Could you get me a job? At the record store? With you?
—Uh, Freya says. This is not what she expected him to say and it takes her a second to start processing it. She tries to think about what it would be like, to have Tim working with her at Tympanum. To be his boss. She thinks of him as young although now that she thinks about it she remembers that he's eighteen—just a month ago she hired a girl that age. It's hard for her to think of that girl as being Tim's age though. When she tries to think about why she thinks she seems so together.
She realizes she needs to speak. —I, she says. —I think so—? I'm not sure how it would work, me like hiring on somebody who's related to me—?
—But you like run the place, Tim says. —Can't you just hire who you want?
—It's not that easy, Freya says. —I mean, I'm the manager, and I do the hiring, yeah, but I'm not the owner—I'm not sure if the owner would like it—plus it'd be weird with the other employees—I mean, if they start thinking that I'm giving you preferential treatment that could be kind of weird—
—Alright, forget it, Tim says.
—No, wait, Freya says.
—If you don't want to just say so, Tim says. —You don't have to make up this whole justification about it—
—It's not that I don't want to, Freya says. —It's just that it's complicated. I need to think it through. Do you need an answer right now?
Silence for a second. —I guess not, Tim says. —It's just—things are really bad here.
—Yeah, Freya says. —Yeah, I get that. Let me just see. I'll let you know.
—OK, Tim says.
Freya thinks it through some more.
—So, wait, she says, —where are you planning to stay? Are you planning to move in with Nick and Matt or—
—No, Tim says. —At first they were all like sure, come move in with us, it'll be great, but—they got their own thing going on now.
—So where—
—I don't know, says Tim. —I mean, I guess I thought maybe that if you could get me a job that I could just crash out with you guys for a while. Just like a month or two? Then I could get some money together and get my own place or something.
Freya closes her eyes. —I gotta think about it, she says. —I mean, it would be awesome to have you here, but—
—All I need is like a couch, Tim says.
—I just need to talk it over, Freya says. —With Jakob. I mean, I want to say yes but—
—You said you would help me, Tim says.
—That's right, Freya says. —And I'm going to try my fucking damndest to do that. But what you're asking for is big and it's going to take me some time to arrange it. So don't you go copping this you said you would help me attitude. Because that's not going to fucking fly. OK? You understand me?
A sullen moment goes by.
—Yeah, Tim says.
: : :
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Index | << | 61 | >>
:: Freya entries
Index | << | 8 | >>
:: Tim entries
Index | << | 14 | >>
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