Picasso and Snickers - Part 3 - The Cardigan

On Saturday morning at eight thirty, Debbie Johnson approached the Chelsea Book Shop and felt like throwing up.

In about thirty minutes she’d either have a new job or she’d be heading back home to hide under the covers until she could think of a good enough reason to get out of bed again.

Within the last week she’d been dumped by her boyfriend and then fired from Johnson’s department store.

Her only reason for getting out of bed in the first place was the dog. She had forgotten to let him out the night before and now the dog was beside himself with anxiety about making a mess on the bedroom floor.

“All right, all ready, Animal!” she said. “I’m coming!”

Animal was an Irish Setter named after the wild man drummer on Sesame Street.

When she got to the kitchen, to let the dog out into the back yard, her father sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes in mock surprise.

“Very funny, Dad,” said Debbie.

“Sorry, hon, I couldn’t help myself. To what do I owe the honor of your company at such an unvampire-like hour? By the way, you look lovely in the early morning sunlight. I’ve missed that about you.”

“Really?” said Debbie.

“Yeah,” said her dad. “I’ve missed your company in the morning. You know, making you Mickey Mouse pancakes and watching you drown poor Mickey in half a bottle of syrup.”

Debbie laughed and took a seat at the table.

“I guess I could eat something,” said Debbie. “How about two Mickey’s and a side of Porky Pig?”

“You’re on,” said her Dad.

The smell of bacon soon filled the air and made Debbie feel better about things.

“So," said her dad. “How’s life treating you?"

“So, so, I guess," said Debbie. “Did mom tell you what happened at the store last night?"

“She mentioned something about it," said her dad.

“And you’re still making me pancakes?"

“Now you need Mickey more than ever," said her dad.

“Am I always going to be eight years old to you?” said Debbie.

“Yep,” said her dad.

After breakfast Debbie washed the dishes and gave her dad a warm hug.

“I’ll try not to sleep so late,” said Debbie. “That was a fun breakfast.”

“Who’s more fun than me?” said her dad. “And don’t be so worried about the book store job. You’ll do fine. I mean, who’s going to have it better than you? Surrounded by all those wonderful writers and the aroma of coffee. I should have it so good at the Post Office. All I’m surrounded with are cranks and the smell of hostility.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Debbie.

“Then you’re on your way to a tremendous beginning,” said her dad.

Debbie showered and dressed, trying not to wake her mother, who worked a double shift the day before. Whenever she passed her parents door she’d always give it an affectionate tap if she knew one or both were asleep. It gave her a sense of comfort.

But this morning the door was open and her mom was standing on the threshold with a present in her hand. It was wrapped with the comics section of the Sunday newspaper and tied with a pink ribbon that will no doubt get used again.

“You’re always so frugal, Mom,” said Debbie.

“Hey,” said her mom, “it helps keep us fat in milk, butter and eggs.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Debbie. “I think I just put on five pounds eating one of Dad’s famous pancake breakfasts.”

Debbie unwrapped the present and held it up.

“But this is your favorite cardigan sweater,” said Debbie.

“I thought you should have something appropriate for your new job,” said her mom. “You’ll look beautiful and librarian-like. Folks won’t want to leave the store until they’ve at least had a word or two with the lovely young lady in the blue cardigan. It’s even got pockets in the front to store away all those phone numbers you’ll be getting from those nerdy boys that’ll be flocking to the book store once they know Debbie Johnson’s working there.”

“Thanks, mom,” said Debbie. “But I’ve decided to take a boy break. At least until I’m forty.”

“Yeah?” said her mom. “Well, good luck with that.”

“Thanks, Mom,” said Debbie. “And thanks for the sweater, I love it.”

Standing outside of the Chelsea Book Shop, Debbie opened the door and was instantly charmed by the tinkling of the bell.

So far so good, thought Debbie. Then she stepped inside and closed the door.