Story #128 - 1 Percent

1 Percent

There was no milk.

There were cartons on the shelf, each one branded with a laughing cow or a smiling dairy farmer, but none of them were right. None of them were what she was looking for.

There was no milk.

She wandered aimlessly for a time, up and down slick aisles with processed food and shelf after shelf of packaged products, each one promising more dietary happiness than the next. Eventually, she returned to the dairy section, hopeful that what she needed would have miraculously appeared.

They had a spot for it; a clean metal rack marked for what she required, but it remained steadfastly blank, no matter how many laps of the dairy section, the produce space or the bakery she took. There was no milk.

A tear leaked from the corner of her eye, and a brief sniffle escaped, drawing a look from the man browsing next to her. Pulling herself together she faked a cough and then shied away, slipping into a back corner of the store. Tears ran freely down her face; she needed a few minutes to compose herself, to get away from the terrible pressure.

He was going to be so angry.

He was a good man – he provided for her every need - but he got angry sometimes. It wasn’t that she didn’t deserve it. He assigned her simple tasks, and she knew that failing was her own fault.

Hopelessness washed over her. This store was the only one on the block that had what she was looking for, and without a car, there was no way she could find any somewhere else.

Overhead lights hummed, and the bustle of the evening grocery crowd began to overwhelm her. She had to get away, had to run before it all became too much.

Laura could help her.

She was out the sliding door and down the street before anyone else could look at her askance. Her breathing was coming in ragged gasps, and the light dress she had put on for him was beginning to stick uncomfortably. Laura would make it better. Laura would make it right.

It took three buzzes before Laura answered and let her in. Her sitting room was full; Laura was popular in the neighborhood, and often entertained guests from across the borough. She’d always thought it was odd for a woman to be so free with her home and her time, but Laura seemed happy, and she’d always been able to help her when she needed it most.

“I need to see her,” she said to the young woman who met her at the door to Laura’s private rooms, “it’s urgent.”

“I’m sorry,” the pretty thing said, “but she’s very busy.”

“Please,” she wailed, “it’s important. They’re all out of milk.”

The bitch looked at her with dark eyes for a moment; what an ugly cow. “Fine. Wait here.”

“Thank you, thank you!” A surge of glee overwhelmed her. Laura could make it all better. The door in front of her slid open after a few minutes, and Laura poked her head out. Older, but without the man-face that came to so many woman of age, Laura Pickerall was tall, beautiful and serious.

She hated her; she loved her.

“Gina.” Laura’s voice was flat. “Come in.” She didn’t take offence – Laura always treated her that way, but had a knack for making her feel better no matter the circumstance.

She waited until Laura had taken her seat before placing herself in the middle of the large couch. Laura was very particular about protocol, and she didn’t want to offend her friend with an accidental slight.

“What is the problem?” Direct and to the point: this was why she loved Laura.

“There’s no milk at the store. None! He’s going to be so mad. He’s going to hit me!” Gina felt the horror escaping her, the fear at being at his mercy yet again. He was such a good man, but with such a temper. Such a temper!

“Why would he do that? It’s not your fault there was no milk.”

“You know better than that!” She was screaming now. When had that happened? “When he gets home from work, he’s going to be mad that his milk isn’t there, and he’s going to get angry. He doesn’t care that it’s not my fault!”

“And where is he working today?” Despite Gina’s outburst, Laura’s voice was calm.

“Pluto,” she said shortly, “with a stop on Mars before he gets home. The Galactic Council needs his help before they move against the Weggens. Space travel always makes him cranky.”

“Pluto?” Laura said mildly. “Yesterday it was Saturn – and without a suit, even. Your man certainly gets around. I’m sorry; what was his name? I always forget.”

“I…” Gina’s brain fuzzed as she thought about him. His name wouldn’t come. It never did when she thought hard. “Nevermind! That doesn’t matter. He’ll be home soon, and then what am I going to do?”

Laura glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry, Gina, but I’m booked solid today. I don’t really have time for this. Meet me later this week, but for now, this is going to have to do.” Grey eyes met hers across the room. Kindly, they had a solid backing of steel.

“What is his name?”

“I don’t know!” Gina could feel her fear rising. He was coming.

“What is his name?”

“I…it’s…” Panic took her; she could feel her breathing shorten to small gasps.

“What is his name?” Laura’s voice was low and hard.

“WHO?” Gina screamed. What the hell was Laura talking about?

Laura regarded her for a long moment; hands clasped in front of her and face calm. “Good enough,” she said finally, and motioned for Gina to rise.

“Thanks for the chat, Laura – I always feel so much better after I talk to you.”

“Of course, Gina. Now, make sure to talk to Christy on the way out. I need to see you later this week.”

She nodded. Laura was such a good friend. A twinge of sadness caught at her as she stepped out onto the street; her apartment was lonelier than ever, these days, but at least she would see her friend again soon.

- D