“You really need to call her.” Her voice was honey-coated, but her insistence made Niki uneasy. Dawn was a moody thing. Who knew what might irritate her? As if reading her mind, Mrs. Fleming added, “Believe me, she’ll be glad. I’m one of her VIP clients.”
This was the first time Niki had heard that there were VIP clients, but Mrs. Fleming spoke so authoritatively that she was willing to believe it. She’d been warned not to make any outgoing calls using the store phone; it was, in fact, a rule in the printout she’d been given. On the other hand, she did have Dawn’s number in her list of contacts on her own phone. After vacillating for a second, she said, “I’ll get my phone. It’s in the back.”
When she returned, Mrs. Fleming was standing in the same spot, peering into the mirror of a small compact. She snapped it shut and said, “What did she say?”
“I haven’t called yet.” Niki found Dawn’s name and initiated the call, then held the phone up to her ear as she heard it ringing. “Hello, Dawn? I have a customer here to pick up a special order. Her name is . . . ?” Niki raised her eyebrows at Mrs. Fleming questioningly. She knew full well what the woman’s name was, could even have recited her address if need be, but she couldn’t let that piece of information slip. There was no good way to explain how she’d know such things.
Instead of answering, Mrs. Fleming lunged at Niki and impatiently grabbed the phone out of her hands. In a flash, she had it plastered to the side of her head. “Dawn, this is Suzette. We have a big, big problem. Your idiot employee apparently doesn’t know anything, so you need to get here immediately.” She laughed brightly, as if making a joke. “Yes, yes, I know. I’m early, but then again I’m always early, so you should have known I’d be here. You know how cranky I get when I have to wait for my order.” She chuckled at Dawn’s response. “Okay then. I’ll be here. Hurry! Buh-bye.” She could have handed the phone back to Niki, but instead she walked over to the counter and set it next to her coat.
Niki felt a wellspring of exasperation build into full-fledged anger. She choked back the words she wanted to say and took a measured breath. She mentally went over her mantra: You can’t control other people, only yourself. Nothing would be gained by unloading on this woman. She made a quick decision. She would contain her anger, pick up her phone, walk back to the juice counter, get back to work chopping up produce, and finish her shift. Dawn would be here any minute, and then she could deal with this red-haired bitch.
Niki went to get the phone, and from behind her Mrs. Fleming gloated. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? You should have just listened to me in the first place instead of arguing. It’s important to know your place, dear.”
Up until that point Niki had felt in complete control, but now she’d been provoked beyond reason. Carefully, she turned around and said, “I do know my place. I was handling the situation in a professional manner. That phone is my personal property, and I did not appreciate having it grabbed out of my hands.” The woman’s face registered irritation at Niki’s chastising tone, but she didn’t respond. In fact, Mrs. Fleming made a point of not responding, pressing her lips together while defiantly raising her chin and looking away.
This wasn’t good. If Mrs. Fleming had this attitude when Dawn returned, Niki might find herself in big trouble.
To defuse the situation, Niki asked a question. “Do you have children? We have a sale on kids’ gummy multivitamins. They’re berry-flavored, all natural, and sweetened with organic stevia leaf. Kids love them.”
Mrs. Fleming didn’t even look her way. “No, thank you.”
“No, you don’t have children, or no you aren’t interested in the product?”
“I have a son who is seventeen. Far too old for gummy vitamins,” she said with a sniff.
Niki sensed that in a minute this woman was going to become seriously angry, but she couldn’t resist fishing a little more. Sharon had taken photos of a little girl, and she herself had seen the child in the Flemings’ backyard. “So besides your son, there aren’t any younger children in your household?”
“No. Not that it’s any of your business.” She gave Niki a steely glare. “Don’t you have something to do? There’s no reason for you to be talking to me.” She made a point to snap open her handbag and rummage through the contents. Under her breath she muttered, “Impertinent.”
Without a word, Niki went to the back of the store, where she turned her attention to inventorying the produce in the juice station mini fridge. Even from a distance she felt the tension in the store, so it was a relief when the front door opened and Dawn arrived.
“Hello, hello,” Dawn called out cheerily, the words accompanying the chiming of the bell. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I came as quickly as I could.”
Niki listened as the two women spoke in hushed tones, then watched as Dawn went into a locked cabinet behind the register counter and produced a small white paper bag, unlike the ones used in the store. Mrs. Fleming opened the bag and looked inside before tucking it into her handbag. She then produced a roll of bills and briskly placed them on the counter one at a time.
Dawn watched as the money was being laid out and nodded in approval. “We’re all set, then. Thanks so much for stopping by, Mrs. Fleming.”
“Just one more thing.” Mrs. Fleming leaned in to whisper something, and both women glanced in Niki’s direction.
There was a back-and-forth for another few minutes, and then Dawn called out, “Niki, could you please come here for a moment?”
Dutifully, Niki came out from behind the counter and joined the two women. “Yes?” She had a feeling she knew what was coming, so she held her head high and reminded herself that she’d done nothing wrong.
“Don’t you think you owe Mrs. Fleming an apology?”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb, Niki. Mrs. Fleming told me you were very rude to her. We pride ourselves on excellent customer service here at Magnificent Nutrition, and the way you spoke to Mrs. Fleming earlier is not in accordance with our store policy. You need to apologize immediately.”
She needed to apologize? Niki faced the two women, both of them looking at her with expectant smug expressions, and took a moment to swallow before speaking. “I’m sorry you weren’t happy with the way I handled the situation, Mrs. Fleming. Next time, we can use your cell phone if you prefer.” Niki noticed now that the stack of money on the counter behind Dawn was topped by a hundred-dollar bill.
Mrs. Fleming turned to Dawn. “See what I mean? She has an attitude.”
“I don’t have an attitude,” Niki protested. “I was polite. Mrs. Fleming grabbed my phone out of my hand. I told her I didn’t appreciate it.”
“Niki!” Dawn said, shocked. “That is enough.” She turned to Mrs. Fleming. “Believe me, I find this unacceptable. I am so sorry. This will be handled.”
Mrs. Fleming frowned. “How? How will you handle this?” After a pause, she said, “Personally, I’d fire her for insubordination.”
“Insubordination?” Niki said. “That’s ridiculous. I wasn’t insubordinate.” She knew the definition of insubordination, and she hadn’t crossed that line, not even close.
Dawn hesitated, but only for a second. “Niki, you’re going to be written up for being rude to a customer. You need to leave now and go home and think about what happened here. We’ll have a meeting tomorrow and discuss how this could have been handled better.”
“You want me to leave now?” It was at least two hours before her shift was over.
“Yes, get your things and go. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Unbelievable.” She said it quietly, her mouth aimed at the floor, but apparently not quietly enough.
“Niki,” Dawn said, her voice a warning. “That’s enough.”
Wordlessly, Niki went into the back room, slipped on her hooded sweatshirt, grabbed her backpack, then returned, passing Mrs. Fleming and Dawn on her way to the store exit. Mrs. Fleming shot her a haughty look, and in return Niki gave her what Evan u
sed to call her “death glare.” Her throat seized up with the unfairness of the situation, but moments later, outside on the sidewalk, her anger abated when she came to the grim realization that it was too early to call Sharon to come pick her up. For one, she didn’t think she could explain what had happened without crying. And she hated the idea of crying in front of Sharon. She knew none of this was her fault, really. Mrs. Fleming had been out of line, acting rude and superior. The woman had called her an idiot and grabbed her cell phone out of her hands. In a just world, Niki would have been in the right. But this wasn’t a just world, and minimum-wage workers were expected to take whatever was dished out and never ever protest. That had been her mistake. She should have just said she was sorry and let it go, but some part of her couldn’t stand being demeaned.
This inner strength was a fairly new development for her, and it didn’t come easily. Her whole life she’d been a failure at sticking up for herself. It wasn’t until she met Amy that she’d realized she had rights too.
And now she had to go home in defeat. She and Sharon were getting along so well, and Niki hated that she might think less of her because of this incident. The thought of disappointing Sharon was intolerable. Besides, Sharon had mentioned meeting a friend for lunch and had said that afterward the two of them were going to the mall to do some shopping. Two old ladies chatting over lunch and then walking around the mall. Who knew how long that might take? Sharon might not even be home yet.
Niki stepped off the curb and began the long walk to Sharon’s house. A strong gust of wind smacked her in the face, and she reached back to pull her hood over her head. As she walked she leaned into the wind, blinking to hold in her emotions, but despite her best efforts, the tears came fast and hot, flowing down her cheeks. She wiped at her face with her sleeve and thought, The hell with it. She’d had a crappy day. She could cry if she wanted to. By the time she got to the edge of the parking lot, sobs overtook her with such force she was almost choking.
Niki kept walking, allowing herself to wallow in her own misery. The crying became part of the trek, her shoulders heaving as she kept her head down, one foot in front of the other, fighting the wind. The injustice of it was what really got to her. She could still see Dawn and Mrs. Fleming standing together, a united front against Niki. She couldn’t keep working there, not if she wanted to hang on to her pride, but she couldn’t quit either. Sharon would think she was a loser, and truthfully, she felt like a bit of a loser. She should have handled it differently. She should have let the whole thing slide. Yes, the woman had called her an idiot—so what? Customers were rude. It happened. This time, though, it had felt so personal.
She’d just have to start applying for other jobs right away and suck it up at Magnificent Nutrition in the meantime. She would take any job, any job at all, and quit as soon as she had something lined up for sure.
“I am not an idiot,” she muttered aloud. At least the cold was motivating her to move quickly. Another fifteen minutes and she’d be home. With any luck, Sharon would still be out with her friend and she could pull herself together before dinnertime.
Chapter Thirteen
The sound of the key in the front door startled Sharon, who’d just gotten home and hung her coat on a hook inside the back hall. Her first thought was that it had to be Niki. Her second thought was that if it wasn’t Niki, then it was someone breaking into the house, and she was in a world of trouble.
“Niki?” she yelled.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
So it was Niki, then. Of course it was. Who else? “You’re home early today.” Sharon slipped off her shoes and set them on the mat.
“Yeah, they let me leave before my shift was over.”
Sharon called out, “I hope you didn’t walk home. It’s really windy out there.”
“It wasn’t too bad.” And then a second later Niki added, “I’m going to take a nap before dinner, okay?”
“Sure.” As Niki’s footsteps echoed up the stairs, something nagged at Sharon. It wasn’t that Niki was opting for a late-afternoon nap. It was, she thought, perfectly reasonable to want to rest, especially after a long walk home in the cold. So that wasn’t the issue. It was the coming home early combined with the catch in Niki’s voice as if she’d been crying. Sharon had a mother’s intuition that told her something was wrong. Niki was early, which by itself meant nothing, but she was also sad. Something had happened. Maybe it had to do with her former boyfriend, the one Niki had only mentioned casually? It didn’t work out. He had a bad temper, she’d said. At times he was out of control. It didn’t take much for Sharon to read between the lines.
She went and stood at the bottom of the stairs, one hand on the newel post, and listened as Niki’s footsteps crossed the ceiling above her head, ending with the creaking of the bed as she settled down to rest. Maybe she should go upstairs and talk to her? No, Niki was an adult, and Sharon didn’t want to violate her privacy. Amy had been very clear about that: Don’t smother her. Don’t ask too many questions.
But there was a fine line between not asking and not caring. Caring about someone meant that sometimes you had to ask questions. Otherwise, how would you know?
As Sharon stood there wavering, the sound of crying reached her. Soft crying, probably not intended for her ears. She only heard it because of where she was standing. Crying was a deal-breaker in Sharon’s mind. Hearing a child cry—even a grown-up child—couldn’t be ignored. Not waiting another moment, she climbed up the steps, listening as she went. When she reached the top, the crying stopped, but she kept going, pausing outside Niki’s door. It was slightly open. Pushing it the rest of the way, Sharon went in.
Niki was curled up on the bed, her body a comma against the bedspread. The blinds were still raised, making the scene bright, but a sense of gloom pervaded the room. Without a word, Sharon went to the closet and took out the spare blanket, then covered Niki, pulling the top edge around her shoulders and tucking the rest around her body. After she finished, she sat down on the edge of the bed and began to stroke Niki’s hair.
Silently, Niki began to cry again, her shoulders hitching the way Amy’s used to when she was fighting back tears. Unlike her mother, Amy was tough, ready to take on anyone or anything. She rarely cried, and when she did, she tried to hold it back. Sharon, on the other hand, teared up during television Christmas movies and when reading, especially sad novels and touching greeting cards. She had a gift for crying, was a natural, in fact.
Even though they’d only known each other for a short time, Sharon felt a surprising tenderness for this girl. “I’m so sorry,” she finally said, her words calm and measured. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry it happened. Just let it all out. It’s okay.”
Niki drew a great shuddering breath and seemed to calm down, so Sharon kept going, murmuring words of reassurance and stroking her hair. As horrible as it was for Niki to be so sad, it was nice for Sharon to feel useful, like she could make a difference.
A few minutes later, Sharon got up and went into Niki’s bathroom, coming back with a box of tissues, which she set on the nightstand. She pulled one out and placed it in Niki’s hand. In response, Niki sat up and blew her nose.
Sharon said, “Things will get better. They always do.”
“Always?” Niki gave her a dubious look. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her face blotchy. Her hair, which had been pulled into a ponytail, was coming undone. She was a total mess.
“Well, sometimes it gets worse before it gets better,” Sharon admitted, and Niki nodded like she had expected as much.
Grabbing another tissue, Niki dabbed her eyes. “What a crappy day.”
“Would you like to talk about it?” Sharon asked hesitantly. “Sometimes it helps.” She’d been worried about prying, so she was relieved when Niki nodded and started relating the story in bits and pieces, as if every word slightly pained her, but she was determined to get them out.
“Dawn told me to leave,” Niki concluded. She wadded the tissue in her h
and. “She said I was being written up and we’d have a meeting tomorrow to discuss it.” Her voice was bitter and resigned.
“Do you think Mrs. Fleming recognized you at all?” Sharon asked.
Niki shook her head. “I don’t think so. The light was off in my room when I was watching her last night. Plus, she doesn’t seem like the type who notices other people.”
Sharon nodded thoughtfully. “So what was in the white bag that Mrs. Fleming bought from Dawn?”
Niki tilted her head to one side, thinking, and finally said, “Oh, I don’t know. I wasn’t even thinking about that.”
“Do you think it was something illegal?”
Niki’s expression acknowledged the possibility. “Maybe. I mean, it wasn’t with the special orders. And she paid for it with cash. A lot of cash. I noticed a hundred-dollar bill in the stack she left for Dawn.”
Sharon pursed her lips in thought and said, “I think it’s possible Dawn and Mrs. Fleming created a scene over your behavior as a distraction for whatever it was they were doing.”
“Really?” Niki straightened up a little.
“Sure. A cash deal? Something’s up. A transaction like that off the books? And she kept it in a locked cabinet?” Sharon felt indignant on Niki’s behalf. “If Dawn is dealing drugs or shortchanging the IRS and it was found out, she’d be in a world of trouble. She could go to jail. Maybe Mrs. Fleming too. Dawn could lose the business. She probably didn’t want you asking questions, so the two of them turned it around like you did something wrong—which, by the way, you didn’t.” She gave Niki’s arm a motherly pat. “You handled it just fine. Better than I would have.”
Niki grabbed another tissue and put it up to her nose. “I didn’t even think of that. I was just so upset that she called me an idiot and grabbed my phone. And then she turned the whole thing around like I was the one at fault.” She swallowed. “No one ever listens to me.”
“I’m listening to you,” Sharon said. “And I think you were completely in the right. I’m sorry you were treated that way. You didn’t deserve it.”
The Moonlight Child Page 8
