Solitaire

The wind whipped my hair up and around my face. The door slammed behind me with a heavy thud, startling me and my boss who was shocked to see me out there. I grabbed at the clumps of hair stuck to my recently applied Cherry Boss lip gloss. I had stood in front of the employee bathroom mirror applying layer after layer of lip gloss planning for different scenarios. The request could go all manners of ways. Well, here we go. I strode over to her with purpose. She stared at me with her arms crossed with one bare hand holding her just lit cigarette and the other gloved hand hugging herself tight. She took a deep inhale, squinting at me.

“Let’s hear it.” Tilting her head back, she exhaled straight up into the frigid sky. She looked like a chimney. I stifled a giggle.

“Ah, yes. So, I have, er, I would like, no, I need to have some days off next month.”

“When?” She was still squinting at me, waving at the trails of smoke coming off her cigarette.

“Well. The 10th to 16th.” I had forgotten my gloves so I was now cupping my hands close to my mouth and breathing warmth into them.

“Any particular reason why? Are the rumors true? Are you interviewing somewhere?” She inhaled again but instead of blowing the smoke up, she settled for a slow exhale out of the side of her mouth.

“WHAT?! Ha. What rumors? No, trust me, it is not that. I, ah, well, you see, I am kind of in a tournament. Well, I have been invited, actually.” I was looking at my feet afraid of how this was going to go.

“Tournament? Sports?”

I snorted. I was built like a teapot and couldn’t throw anything anywhere.

“No, no. It is a tournament for the Northeast Amateur Solitaire Association.”

She dropped the cigarette and stomped on it. Her face twisted into incomprehension.

“Solitaire? Like the card game you play by yourself?”

We were moving towards the door and I was trying to sound professional.

“Yes and no. You see, during the pandemic, I was stuck in the apartment alone and…”

She hauled the door open with such force it slammed against the building.

“Shit! Okay, you’re home alone, solitaire. How does that equate to this championship thing?”

I was trying to keep up and was excited that she did not immediately laugh in my face.

“It was just a link I clicked on when I was scrolling Facebook. I played and I guess I am pretty good because I kept winning. I was invited to little online tournaments and I am in the top 5 for the region.”

We were by Thom’s cubicle. He was wiping powdered sugar off his chin from the donut he still held in his hand and looking back and forth between the both of us. It was very rare for me to be on that floor, let alone be walking in from the Smoke Deck with Mrs. Walker.

In a voice loud enough for the whole floor to hear, “Bethany’s going to be in a tournament the 10th to 16th. She’s some sort of champion online gamer. She’s not interviewing with CNN or anyone. Get your shit together Thom.”

With a flourish of stale smoke and a damp wool trench coat, Mrs. Walker disappeared into her office.

I turned on my heel, gave Thom a wink and strutted towards the elevators that would take me down to my cubby in Research. I could fit in a couple of games before lunch.