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Summary
Near the tailend of her shift, Garcia finally got a moment to herself after slipping out of the elevator on the eighth floor, and she beelined for a spot near the locker room that she knew to get little foot traffic. The vibration of her pager rivaled the beating of her own heart and only in its absence did she realize how it had soundtracked her day.
She checked her phone: still no birthday wishes. That was to be expected, she reasoned. Most people are busy wrangling their families on this day, so there’s not much room for her to pass their minds. It’s not personal. There were, however, four missed calls from her mother, and a text shortly after:
Te olvidas de tus padres
The message was so classically her mother that she couldn’t help but laugh. No birthday wish or any sort of preamble, just a straight-up guilt trip: You forget about your parents.
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garcia has a birthday shift from hell and needs to fuck about it