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Tyler was so angry he couldn’t think straight.
It was a crappy day. Worse than crappy. The Weathervane was naturally busy on Fridays, but this was the start to a three day weekend which meant tourists coming to check out Pilgrim World, the only real attraction Jericho had.
With him not having school that day, his manager requested that he come at dawn to open the shop up. It was not what he’d had in mind, previously assumed that he would get to sleep in and then go in the afternoon to work until closing. He didn’t argue or try to get out of it, resigned to his fate.
The whole day was a mess.
He was sick and tired of dealing with entitled customers. He was absolutely through with having to explain that yes , they were a coffee shop but no , they didn’t serve everything that Starbucks did. It shouldn’t be okay for someone to scream at him over a drink like a lunatic. And he shouldn’t have to apologize to them all because his manager believed the customer was always right .
No they definitely were not .
He’d had bad days. Plenty of them. It kind of came with the territory of being in this kind of industry.
But today was the worst it had been in a long time.
Before he had the chance to unlock the doors, there were a few people standing outside impatiently, some elderly, some wanting to get their morning coffee before heading off to work. One person knocked on the door several times to get his attention, which Tyler tried his hardest to ignore after telling them twice already that they would be open in ten minutes.
It didn’t get better from there on.
His manager micromanaged him the whole time, berating him in front of the customers for not being fast enough, threatening to fire him. But not once helping him. She’d seen the long line, seen how agitated the people were getting while his co-worker was floundering off to the side, totally intimidated by everything. Instead of lending a hand so they could get through this together, she chose to single him out as if he were the problem.
But nothing could have prepared him for what happened later in the evening.
He wasn’t even supposed to still be working at that time. But his manager kept on asking because of them being short staffed so he gave in.
And wished he didn’t.
At one point, he dealt with an irate customer, not unusual in and of itself. But this customer had no one but to blame but herself for the error made. She was the one typing away on her phone while he tried to pry her order out of her, somehow mistakenly saying she wanted almond milk when she really wanted soy. When the drink was finished, she became enraged as soon as she saw the receipt, having finally put her phone away in her pocket. She argued loudly with him over it, certain that she’d said soy. Tyler, politely but firmly, told her she hadn’t but he’d make another drink for her if she wanted. He’d barely finished his sentence when she hurled the piping hot coffee at him.
The mug shattered. The coffee splattered. And the entire shop went silent.
His co-worker was rooted in shock. He would have been as well if it weren’t for the fact that he rushed off to the sink to splash water on himself.
It was undoubtedly the worst experience with a customer he’d ever had. Tyler honestly considered just waking out and not giving a crap that he’d probably be fired for it.
He shouldn’t have to put up with it. He shouldn’t have to deal with being assaulted at work or verbally abusive people who saw him as being less deserving of common decency.
Later on after his shift ended, he sat in his bedroom applying the aloe vera ointment to his burns. They weren’t too bad, mostly just red with mild stinging, but it kind of shook him with what just happened.
It didn’t help that his manager texted him, requesting that he come in earlier tomorrow to talk.
The stress of not knowing what was going to happen and his crappy day just piled up all at once. Tyler rarely cried, but this had his eyes welling up and the tears slipping down his cheeks before he could pull himself together.
Openly weeping, Tyler buried his face in one of his pillows, curled up on his bed. He didn’t even realize that Wednesday already made her entrance through his bedroom window. So caught up in his own anguish, he never heard the window crack open. No, not until he lifted his head up did he come face-to-face with his girlfriend.
He quickly sat up, feeling mortified that she’d caught him like this and furiously wiped his eyes so she wouldn’t see the tears. It was all futile, his eyes were bright red and puffy, clearly showing her how not-okay he was.
“Uh, how long have you been standing there?”
Wednesday stared at him, taking slow steps towards him. “Long enough,” she stated. “You’re crying. Why?”
He was shaking his head, trying to shield his face even though it was pointless by now. “It’s nothing,” he said, hating how nasilly he sounded.
Her eyes widened a fraction when he fully turned around, catching sight of the burns on the side of his jaw and on his chest. “What has happened to you?”
“Uh-”
“Do not lie to me,” Wednesday snapped.
“Please don’t worry about it,” he pleaded with her, knowing Wednesday would raise hell if she found out the truth.
“Tyler Galpin,” she said warningly, “you will tell me what happened immediately.”
“I’d rather not.”
“I wasn’t giving you a choice.”
Tyler shivered when her fingertips trailed along one of the burns on his chest.
“You’re in pain,” Wednesday said, her nose wrinkling somewhat at the aloe that was now on two of her fingers. Tyler gave her his balled up work shirt so she could wipe it off.
He swallowed. “It was just a bad day at work, Wen.”
“You have been burned !” She seethed, pushing him away.
“They’re just mild...” He said weakly.
“That is certainly not the point! Who has done this? They will never have a moment's peace when I am through with them,” she ranted.
If this were any other time, Tyler would have deeply appreciated this, having Wednesday care so fiercely for him like she did, but right now all he wanted to do was lay down and forget about his day. “Wednesday, Wednesday , please,” he caught her attention, causing her to stop and stare at him. “I’m tired, I’m really tired and I just wanna lay down. Can we not do this right now?”
“Would you like me to leave?”
“No,” he said instantly. “But I know this isn’t really your thing so I’ll give you an out on this one.” Wednesday had explicitly told him before they started dating she didn’t comfort people and a relationship wouldn’t change that.
Wednesday stayed silent. “I suppose I could make an exception,” she said, trying to sound indifferent.
He gave a watery laugh. “Okay.”
“Have you applied a cold compress to your burns?” Wednesday asked.
Tyler shaking, shaking his head.
“Lay down and I will bring one to you,” she said.
He did as she said, once he quickly changed out of his work pants and into a pair of shorts. Since she would be putting the compress on his chest, he kept his shirt off.
She returned a few minutes later, carrying a couple paper towels and the cold compress. Laying directly on his back, Tyler hissed quietly when she gently wiped away the aloe he’d put on. The compress that came after felt good. He shut his eyes, letting out a deep breath.
When he opened them again, she handed him a cold washcloth. “For your face,” she clarified, in reference to his still puffy face from his crying.
Tyler was embarrassed, mumbling a thank you. He said nothing else until minutes later, wanting, needing to clarify on this. “I don’t usually do that.”
She stared at him. “Do what?”
He gave a half shrug. “Cry,” he muttered. “It was a really bad day today and my manager didn’t help with that at all and...I dunno. I just--” He made a gesture, not knowing how to describe his little break down. “Sorry you had to see it.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Wednesday told him, applying a coat of aloe vera to the burn on his chest.
“Still...” He trailed off once again. Wednesday didn’t like emotions coming from anyone . He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or see him any differently because of this. That happened to Lucas once; he cried when his dog died and the girl he was seeing at the time broke it with him, claiming it was just too weird to witness him break down like that.
Her eyes flickered to his face and then back down again. “I do want to find out how this transpired.”
“Just a crappy customer,” he mumbled.
Ever so gently, more than he’d ever expect from her, Wednesday took the burnt half of his face into her hand. Her touch was soft as a feather and maybe Tyler was finally losing it after the couple years he’d put into the Weathervane but crap . He could feel himself start to break down again. A tear slid down his cheek and onto her hand.
“Sorry,” he managed to choke out, pulling himself away from her. Wednesday’s small hands rested on his shoulders, her thumbs digging into his tense muscles.
“I told you there is no need to be sorry,” Wednesday murmured.
Tyler felt her hands slip away when he twisted back to face her. Taking the end of her braid in his hand, he caressed it with his fingers. “I got coffee thrown at me today,” he confessed. Wednesday’s face went from soft to furious. “That’s where I got the burns from. Some lady ordered her drink with almond milk and wanted soy but wouldn’t admit she made a mistake and-” he took a deep breath. “It’s been hell all day.”
He didn’t even bother wiping away his tears this time. Tiredly, he plopped back down, feeling his heart start to pound. Wednesday situated herself close to him, her hand threading her fingers through his hair. It was a weakness for him. He craved intimacy, craved being touched, eagerly soaking up any that he got. Especially from his girlfriend. Leaning into her touch, he closed his eyes in contentment.
“You must be exhausted,” she murmured.
“Yeah,” his face in the crook of her neck, Tyler let himself curl up against her much smaller frame. Wednesday whispered to him.
“Not to worry, I will take care of them.”
He really shouldn’t encourage her extremism, but after the day he’s had, Tyler could let her fantasize for a while. “And do what?”
“I’ll reduce them to nothing but bones and ashes," she promised, her fingers continuing to caress and toy with his hair. "I will make their death look like a well thought out suicide. Your father will be none the wiser."
Tyler would put a stop to any of that before she actually did murder somebody, he didn’t think he could go without her hand in his hair. But it still warmed his heart to hear how fiercely protective she sounded.
"I love you," he whispered.
She didn't say it back, but he felt the briefest feel of her lips on his head. It made his mouth curve upwards.
'This will not happen again," she said after a moment of silence. He knew what she was referring to. And it had nothing to do with the position they were in while on his bed. "Your manager is an incompetent, worthless excuse for a boss, and if she does not intend to take care of the situation then I will."
“How?” Tyler felt like he should ask. “You can’t kill her, Wednesday.”
Wednesday was vaguely disappointed by his opposition. “You deserve to have this problem taken care of permanently.”
"I need this job, Wen."
"No one will ever know," she assured him, her legs tangling with his. "I will make sure of it."
"My dad will." His father would become instantly suspicious if the Weathervane manager mysteriously died, especially in disturbing circumstances.
"I would applaud your father if he managed to figure it out. However, I believe the chances are rather slim."
"I know I should probably be offended 'cause he's my dad but-" He trailed off with a very slight laugh.
"Are you alright now?" Wednesday asked quietly.
"I don't know," he said honestly. He was still very tired, still mentally worn out by the ordeal.
"That is okay," she said. "I will stay with you until you are."
With some pushing from Wednesday, Tyler did tell his father about what happened. He was angry and ready to march down to the Weathervane himself to give his manager a piece of his mind, as well as finding out the identity of the woman who threw the coffee at him. Tyler, wanting to save himself the embarrassment of having his dad fighting his battles for him, begged him not to.
That didn't stop Wednesday, of course.
Immensely annoyed by his insistence that she not get even by physically harming her, she went and found a loophole.
He'd thought she'd been joking when she said she would simply break her spirit instead.
He should have known better.
The owner of the Weathervane was an elderly man. Tyler came across him once but had no complaints. He was a nice guy. Ever since his retirement and passing the business onto his son, he hadn't spent much time at the building itself. So needless to say, it was a bit shocking for the other workers to find him hobbling in with his eyes set on Tyler's manager.
His manager who was currently tearing into Tyler while in the corner, whispering furiously at how he’d badly represented the company for not paying attention to the woman’s order like he should have.
“Miss Hillman,” Cecil Goldberg’s voice, enriched with disapproval, was at a respectable tone yet carried across the room.
Hannah Hillman straightened up, going absolutely white. “Hello, Sir,” she said, her own voice up an octave.
“Why are you talking to this young man the way you are?” Mr. Goldberg glanced at Tyler with keen interest. “Tyler Galpin, correct?”
“Yes, Sir,” he said.
“Ah,” was all Mr. Goldberg said before his attention was back onto Tyler’s manager. “I’m waiting for an answer, Miss Hillman.”
“Mr. Goldberg,” Hannah was practically sweating bullets, “he--he’s been here for a couple years now and the mistakes he’s made-”
“I’m not surprised he’s made any with you hovering around him,” Mr. Goldberg frowned. “Miss Hillman, a negative work environment will affect a person’s performance.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said.
“A business needs to be able to thrive on the inside before it can thrive on the outside,” he continued.
“Yes, Sir.”
Mr. Goldberg looked her over, taking a breath. “When I recommended Calvin make you manager I did so because I felt you were the best person for the job. As it so happens, I was wrong.”
Hannah’s smile vanished.
“I received a letter telling me about your behavior this past Friday.”
She immediately tried to explain herself, but Mr. Goldberg held up a hand.
“I don’t want to hear it, Miss Hillman. The way you treated this young man was nothing short of deplorable. Not to mention, you did nothing when he was assaulted by a customer when you should have immediately called the police.”
“Sir, I-”
“Miss Hillman, you are dismissed,” Mr. Goldberg said with finality. “I’ve already talked this over with my son and he agrees. Mr. Galpin, take a day or two to rest. There’s no need for you to be here right now.”
Dumbfounded, Tyler could only nod and manage to say, “Thank you.”
He found Wednesday standing just outside the Weathervane after he’d gathered his belongings. “Hey.”
“Hello,” she said. “You’re finished early.”
“Yeah, the old owner came by. Said he heard about what happened on Friday,” Tyler raised his eyebrows. “Strange, huh?”
“I’d say so, yes,” Wednesday fell into step with him as they headed towards his car.
“And you had nothing to do with it?”
“Tyler, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Okay,” he said casually. “Because if you did, I’d say I appreciate it and that it was a good alternative to your original plans.”
“Well, it isn’t necessary. I restrained myself.”
Tyler looped his arms around her waist as they stood nearby his car. “I love you and your kooky murder ideas.”
“ Spooky ,” she punched his arm.
Across the parking lot, he could see Hannah storming out. Angrily, she dipped a hand into her purse, only to let out a blood-curdling scream. Dropping the bag, a scorpion came scurrying out.
Questioningly, Tyler looked at Wednesday.
“It was your father who sent a letter to the previous owner. As you know, I prefer a more.....hands on approach,” a ghost of a smile came over her lips watching Hannah drop to the ground unconscious.