by Troy Hunter
I’m going to be the best parent possible, and I spend my time reading every parenting book I can get my hands on. Reading and saving money. I’ll be out of work for a while, and although I know I’ll probably, begrudgingly, be forced to ask Nate for a loan, I still don’t want to be careless.
I say loan. Nate would never actually ask me to pay anything back to him, but that’s exactly what I’ll do. Or plan on doing. It might take me a while, but if I have to take money from Nate, I’m going to pay back every cent whether he likes it or not.
I’m going to have a baby in less than two months. A baby. I stare at my reflection often. Although my stomach has gotten significantly bigger, it’s still difficult to believe I’m going to have a child. I don’t think I’ll really believe it until I’m there in the hospital giving birth. Even though I’ve seen the ultrasound, even though I’ve felt the kicks and seen all the symptoms, I still can’t quite believe it. This is a real baby growing inside me.
Everyone at work knows by this point, so Haley must know what’s coming when I come in on my off day and ask to speak with her.
Haley isn’t the general manager. She’s an assistant, but she’s the manager of my department. She looks like a woman who should work the clothing department. Although Target’s uniform is khaki pants and red shirts, she always manages to make that look really good. Her hair is a nice, natural red and falls in impeccable curls around her face. Her makeup is well-done. She looks, overall, like a very beautiful woman, and her face is very soft, nearly elfish. In short, she looks like a total sweetheart, so new hires are always caught off-guard when she turns out to have a personality more like a cactus.
“What do you need?” she asks, though she surely suspects.
“I want to take a leave of absence,” I say.
“How soon?”
“Two weeks from now.”
She grimaces. “You can’t give us more time than that?”
“Well, it’s the amount of time I have to give,” I said, “So I assumed it’d be fine. You must’ve known I’d want to take leave soon.”
Haley furrows her brow. “Are you sure I couldn’t pitch you on staying a month longer?”
I shake my head. My ankles are swollen, my back hurts, and I can’t make it an entire shift without throwing up. And that’s ignoring the fact that it’s becoming harder and harder to bend down to pick things up. The coworkers in my department have tried to help me. They’ve practically coddled me, but I know, too, that it isn’t fair to expect them to do everything for me. That, and it’s humiliating not to be able to pick up and carry as much as I once could. I’m not embarrassed by having a baby or by these new limitations, but I don’t want to be deadweight to the team either.
“Well, you do get a certain amount of medical leave, as I’m sure you know. I assume you’ll be coming back right after that?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’ve never had a baby, so I might take longer.”
“Oh?” Haley asks. “You do realize that if you take longer to come back, we don’t have to guarantee you a job, right?”
I don’t know if that’s true or not, but either way, I can’t help but feel like I’ve been backhanded when she says it. They won’t guarantee me a job? I’m a good, efficient employee. I always show up on time and work hard. I stay over and come in on my off-days. I help the cashiers when they’re backed up. Why wouldn’t they guarantee me a job?
“I guess,” I reply.
I don’t know what else to say. Do I insist that she should guarantee me a job?
I think of Nate and how he said I should just quit and tell them to suck my cock on the way out. That seems very appealing at the moment. He’d be so proud, too, and the thought of Nate being proud makes my stomach feel like it’s full of butterflies. But why? There’s no reason for that.
“I mean, I’ll be frank with you,” Haley says. “You’re a decent employee, but we can’t just wait to hire someone because you’re counting on coming back at some unspecified time in the future. It’s August. You realize that means you’re leaving us before the busiest time of the year. It’s going to be back-to-school, Labor Day weekend, Halloween, and then Black Friday followed by Christmas.”
Of course, I know that, but I can’t exactly tell my baby to choose a different time to be born.
“I’m sorry,” I say, although I’m not entirely sure what I’m apologizing for.
How dare she treat my baby and me like we’re an inconvenience to her? I hold my tongue. I know if I say what I’m really thinking, I definitely won’t have a job to return to, and I need that security. I’m about to have an extra mouth to clothe and feed, and then, there are the numerous other expenses that come with having a child. I’ll need diapers and toys, a crib, and teething rings. Bottles and formula. There are probably more things, too, things I would never even think of.
“Sorry doesn’t fix the store’s staffing,” Haley says.
As if we were decently staffed to begin with.
“I’ll let you know when I’m coming back,” I say. “I feel like that’s a decision I should only make after I’ve had the baby.”
Haley sighs like I’m being so unreasonable. “Very well,” she says. “I suppose I can’t convince you otherwise.”
“No,” I say. “Do I need to fill out anything?”
“You do,” Haley says, reaching for a post-it note. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, HR quit. She’d have been the one to give you the forms, and I don’t know where she kept them.”
Haley scribbles a note of the date two weeks out and writes “Felix’s last day” beneath it. She then puts the post-it note on her computer. “Just so we all know when we make the schedule,” she says. “I’ll put the forms you need in my box on the door. Fill them out and stick them back in there.”
She didn’t even try to look for them. I stare nonplussed. Did I just announce my leave via post-it note? My stomach lurches, but it isn’t because of the baby. This feels underhanded, like I’m being cheated somehow. I feel as though I need to do something, but I don’t know what.
“Okay,” I say, as I stand. “Thank you.”
Haley smiles tightly but doesn’t offer a response.
I head towards my car, and once I’m there, I roll down the window and just sit there trying to process everything. I’ve stressed out a lot over this job. I’ve argued with Nate a lot over this job. And yet…
And yet when I give them notice and ask to go on leave, this is how they react. Like I’m an inconvenience. Like I’m a replaceable inconvenience. I want to cry. Maybe I’m making a mountain out of a molehill. Maybe this is just because I’m pregnant, and my hormones are out of sync. But they wouldn’t even guarantee me a job? I know they don’t have to, but I’d really thought they’d go the extra mile for me.
I open my car door. I need to think. I almost go back into Target. I want to. The image of me marching back up to Haley’s office and loudly informing her that I quit is a satisfying one. I fantasize about making a scene, about leaving her speechless for once. I won’t do it, but I’m too emotional to drive right now. I don’t want to sit in my car either. Instead, I walk into the Michael’s next door.
The problem with craft stores is they all have the same beads and are incredibly popular places to shop. If I buy a pendant from a major craft store, there are bound to be fifty other people making jewelry using the same pendant, and it’s impossible to build a successful business, especially in the mass online market, if there isn’t something distinct and original about your work. About the only usable things from major craft stores are their strings of gemstone chips and faux-Swarovski strands. But it’s comforting to go in and smell the scent of cinnamon pinecones, heralding the coming holidays. I smile at the velvet-covered skulls and the foam pumpkins. One side of the store is Halloween, the other Christmas, and the two worlds collide somewhere behind all the fabric flowers.
I walk leisurely through the beads and trail my fingers across strands of rose quartz an
d amethyst. As always, I’m drawn to the crystal stars and hearts. I watch the light play across their faceted surfaces. Crystals sell well on Etsy, but I’ve learned to be careful. Some of these cheap beads will discolor if exposed to the oil secreted by someone’s skin, and I don’t want my stuff to discolor.
They’re still pretty, though. I smile at the spools of wire, bright and metallic. I have wire in most colors, a few spools of which were bought by Nate, but most of them I purchased myself. Bit by bit, color by color. That’s how I’ve gotten most of my stock. Five dollars every other week until I had a fair amount. That, and scoping out sales.
Maybe being out of work for a couple months will be a good thing. Jewelry-making doesn’t take nearly the same amount of emotional and physical labor that working retail does, and maybe I can take advantage of the time to really focus on getting my business off the ground. I can work harder to form networks on social media, maybe host a giveaway or two. It’ll be fun.
Maybe I’ll be able to get the business off the ground enough that I don’t even need to go back to Target. I smile. That would be great. So satisfying. They just…they treated me like an inconvenience. How is that fair?
Maybe it’s a childish thing to agonize over, but I’d expected something more. To be treated like I really mattered. But I shouldn’t have expected that. Not at all.
“They said what?”
I adjust myself on my bed, trying to get myself into a more comfortable position. Nate offers another pillow, and I shove it beneath my lower back. “That they won’t guarantee me a job if I don’t return right after the maternity leave the law says they have to give me. I’m a decent employee, but they can’t hold out just hoping I’ll come back.”
Nate growls. “I swear I’m going to go down there—”
“And what?” I ask. “You’re going to scream my manager into submission?”
“You think I couldn’t?”
“I think you’d get security involved,” I say, “Possibly the cops called.”
Nate climbs to his feet suddenly and paces. “Even if that happened, it’s not like it’d have any real consequences,” Nate argues. “It’d just be two alphas getting into an argument. That’s not exactly unusual.”
“Still, it’s a headache I don’t need,” I say.
I know if I turn it into a problem for me, Nate won’t go through with it. Predictably, he sighs and throws himself onto the bed beside me. “They don’t deserve you!” he snaps. “I need you to admit that. At least.”
“I know that,” I say, “And I…I should quit, shouldn’t I?”
Nate rolls onto his side. His blue eyes narrow as if he’s searching for a trick. “Yes,” he says. “If it’s a money thing, I can help you out. Look; there’s no excuse for the way she talked to you. You do good work for them, and they should damn well respect all the effort you’ve put into working at that place.”
I nod. “Selene texted me and said Haley’s next day in is Friday morning.”
“And?” Nate doesn’t even try to hide the excitement in his voice.
“And I think I’m going to go in there and quit.”
Nate absolutely beams at me. “Yes!” he exclaims. “Finally! I want to go. This will be great. See, what you do is you go in and buy a bunch of crap with your employee discount. Then, you go quit. God, please tell her to suck your cock. It’d make me very happy. I’ll buy you that Target if you just say the word.”
“You can’t buy the Target,” I scoff.
“Don’t test me,” Nate says. “If there’s a will, there’s a way.”
“But I might buy stuff for the baby,” I say. “I might make sure I look really nice when I go in, too.”
“Fuck, yes,” Nate replies. “That’s a damn good idea.”
I can’t help but smile. He’s just so on board with the idea. It’s kind of adorable how excited he is about me sticking it to my boss.
“I’m going to try really hard not to have to ask you for help, though.”
Nate immediately opens his mouth to protest.
“Let me finish,” I say.
“Go ahead.”
“I’m going to spend my time off focusing really hard on my jewelry business. I’ve saved up some money in the past few months to tide me over. If I can’t make it, I’ll get a loan from you and begin looking for another job.”
“A loan?” Nate sounds pained.
“I know you’d never miss the money,” I say, “But it matters to me. A loan. No-interest if that makes you feel better.”
Nate smiles crookedly. “You’re impossible,” he says, “But fine. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, ever. And I don’t really care right now. I’m so fucking happy you’re going to tell Target to take a hike.”
“Me, too,” I say. “Don’t let me back out of it, though. You know I’ll probably bolt when it comes to actually telling Haley I’m taking a hike.
“What are friends for?” Nate asks. “I’ll carry you in there if I must.”
I snort at the mental image of Nate carrying my heavily pregnant self in there bridal-style. He could probably manage it, but I think some of the romance is lost when it’s a Target. But he’s making it into a joke. Does Nate realize that my resolve will only last so long? I don’t know if I really trust myself to still be angry come Friday. What if my jewelry business completely flops? It’s foolish of me to quit my reliable job with its reliable paycheck.
If I do go through with this, I have to begin looking for another stable job right away. Just in case. It’s the holidays, and retail jobs are a dime a dozen. Surely, it can’t be that hard. I can do this. I have a plan. First, I have to quit.
8
Nate
So help me God, Felix is going to go through with this. I’ve spent the last ten minutes giving him a pep talk. He keeps insisting he can’t do it, but I know he’ll be so much happier once he finally quits. If he tries to back out, I’m going to drag him kicking and screaming into Target. We sit in my Porsche, parked as close to the front of the store as possible without doing anything illegal. I’ve rolled down the windows while we wait. I wasn’t sure how good of an idea it was, but Felix texted Selene the moment he decided he was going to quit. I worried she’d tell the management.
However, Felix insisted Selene could keep a secret and apparently, she can. Apparently, she also really wants to watch Felix tell off Haley, so we’re waiting for Selene to come in, on her day off, to watch the show.
Personally, I think everyone in the fucking store should quit. Felix would be mortified if I offered, but wouldn’t it be fun to go around to every single employee there and just see how large a check it’d take for them to quit? I mean, where’s the fun in having millions of dollars at your disposal if you can’t use it to do something very petty every now and then? A good chunk goes to charity, too, funding small start-ups and Go Fund Me accounts. Every now and then, I just pick ten or twelve and pay them completely off; it’s my way of correcting injustices in the world. I don’t need the recognition. I just need to make the world a better place, and maybe it helps my wounded pride a little bit.
Felix never wants to accept my help. And it’s maddening.
A green Saturn pulls up beside us, and Selene saunters out. She’s definitely not dressed for work. She wears a short black dress with a low neckline and some sort of sleeve-cape concoction. My first thought is that she looks kind of like Maleficent, but she’s clearly trying for a very sexy Maleficent. She’s chosen to pair it with massively high heels, too. Respect for Selene. How does she even manage to walk in those?
Felix gets out of the car before me, and Selene hurries to hug him.
“Are you quitting, too?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Not necessarily,” Selene replies. “I just want to make sure I look good on my day off, but we’ll see. I might get so inspired by Felix I do something…foolish.”
She grins like she’d really relish the idea of doing something foolish, and I like this woman. I�
�ve never paid much attention to Selene before. She’s always just been a coworker of Felix’s, albeit a decent one. But she has a mischievous streak. She’s a sassy omega like Felix.
“You do look great,” Felix says. “Absolutely stunning.”
Selene winks. “You, too. Shall we go shopping? Is that still the plan?”
“Yeah,” I say, “So let’s go.”
I grab a cart once we enter.
“I feel like we’re some sort of elite spy team,” Felix says with a laugh.
“I’ve always admired femme fatales,” Selene replies, “So I’m very okay with that.”
“To baby’s, then?” I ask.
Felix nods. He and Selene lead the way. It quickly becomes clear they know the department very well. They know exactly where everything is down to the specific aisle number, peg, and rack. They know all the sales and exactly where they are, whether it’s a coupon from the paper or on the app. I’ve never used coupons in my life, but it’s fascinating how thorough Felix and Selene are and how resourceful.
They calculate every single cent. Is twenty percent off better than five dollars off? Is buying in bulk better? Felix points out the different coupons, and Selene has the answer in seconds. They know which ones double and which ones don’t and how many transactions they have to break everything up into to get the maximum savings.
I just follow along behind and push the cart. I don’t know any more about babies than Felix does, but I’m content to watch the enthusiasm he shows towards shopping for his soon-to-be daughter. The cart gradually fills as we make slow progress through the department. Felix and Selene stop to talk to every single employee they encounter. Selene gets several admiring looks that she pretends not to notice.
