Frank didn’t as much smile to himself as he did acknowledge the fact that there was a beauty out there that he didn’t know how to harness. He wondered if anyone knew that trick. He only felt it sometimes. Like right then. He felt…lighter, like something unwanted was oozing out of him. When was the last time he had felt like this? It was probably a long time. This scared the hell out of him. He turned away from the window and left the grill hanging precariously against the box. He walked all the way down the aisle and eyed the collection of grills that he had already assembled. Eight so far. Some were all black, a couple with red hoods, a few all stainless steel. A colony of metal that he tried to find the same feeling in that he felt just a moment before. But Frank couldn’t. Part of him was relieved. Frank went back and attached the side table and side burner then put the remaining things under the hood:
five minutes.
“What’s up Frank? How’re you feeling this morning?” Arham asked, walking into the garden center. Frank looked at his Seiko as he was cutting the plastic off a pallet to get down a Weber E-310. Half past nine. “Just ducky,” he said. “How many grills we got today?” Frank wanted to say something sarcastic, so Arham would know that he was pissed. Pissed that the kid thought he could just stroll in whenever he felt like it. But Frank wasn’t his boss, and technically Arham could come in whenever he wanted to as long as he put in a solid eight. Plus, Frank was grateful for the help. He didn’t like leaving a store until all the pallets that Home Depot had dropped the night before were finished. No matter how long that took.