Dad was standing by the Starbucks counter. A tan Venti iced soy chai stood there; dad had the impatient look of someone waiting for their dose of caffeine. I walked up and picked up my soy chai.
“So… they don’t have any vaccines for us.” I nodded over my right shoulder toward the CVS counter. We were inside a Target store and in late early 21st Century America, brands exist inside other brands. It’s a nesting doll of brands, or layers of an onion. This Target is supporting a symbiotic CVS and a symbiotic Starbucks. I’m unsure if there were other brands dotted around the floor.
Dad gave me the grumpy side-eye that means he’s annoyed; not with me, with living in a world of corporate brands. “What?”
“Apparently there’s a newer Covid vaccine coming in September, so they don’t have any of the current vaccine.”
“Then why the fuck did they let us make an appointment?” The barista had placed dad’s dark iced mocha with whipped cream in front of him. He picked it up and fished a straw down the straw-hole.
“Yeah. That’s my question, too.” Next weekend I’m playing D&D with my friends in-person after two years of playing online through Discord, and the weekend after that I’m a volunteer at an art-tech festival called XOXO. I intended to get vaccinated because I don’t want to give, or get, the incredibly contagious disease that we’ve all decided is as normal as the weather.
Dad wandered over to a table. “Let’s grab a table for these.”
This was actually the second appointment I’d made, for me and dad, today. The earlier one, at a different CVS invasively inside a different Target, had been canceled almost as soon as I’d made it because, and I swear I am not making this up, the pharmacist said they had contracted Covid so were barred from giving vaccinations for Covid, or, really, anything, probably.
“He said it was a ‘bug in the system,” I said, laughing. “Except it’s not a bug in the system, it’s a human error. The computers don’t consult with the people.”
“They have to know if they have the shots in stock,” dad grumbled.
“Right!? They clearly have the ability to cancel an appointment. The other pharmacist did it.” I sipped my chai. “So annoying.”
Dad smiled. “I’d asked for an extra shot, and I overheard them mention an extra shot of chocolate syrup…”
His right hand twitched slightly on the table.
“Oh did you get the wrong order?”
“No, that’s what I’m saying. I got more chocolate.” His hand pointed at my drink. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Yup!” I sipped again.
Dad’s hand moved toward my drink. “You mind if I have a taste?”
I pushed it across the table at him. “Nope!”
His hand twitched again. I gently reached out and put my hand on top of his. His skin was papery, dry, warm. Dad looked puzzled at my hand, then at me.
“Do you notice that? I see your hand twitch sometimes.”
“Oh, no, sometimes.”
I felt empathy bloom inside me. I kept my face as neutral as I could but my heart ached to see his body, once strong, now failing, slowly, with age.
In the background, one of the baristas, short with blonde and black hair, was going on break. The other one, tall with black and blonde hair, was telling the first one to get something to eat.
Dad smiled after the sip, nodded. “That’s good!”
“It’s kind of sweet. Sometimes I add a shot of espresso, cuts the sweetness a bit. But it’s a good drink.”
I slurpped up the bottom of the cup with the straw. “Mom always hated that sound, but…”
“But how else are you going to get every last drop!” dad, laughing, finished my thought.
Omg 💜💜💜