When in doubt, I was supposed to use plastic bags. Grabbing the “Thank you for shopping with us” slips from under the bagging area, I signed my name and put it into the first bag.
I put the eighteen-egg carton in the bottom and waited for a roll of paper towels to make its way to me before putting it on top.
When I had finished bagging the fourth sack, Mr. Bishoff looked over at me. “Oh, one second there, deary. I meant to tell you I have cloth bags. Please...” He turned to his cart, throwing his hands up in the air. “I must have left them in the car. I’ll be right back.”
He strode outside.
Beck turned to me. “This day has been an absolute nightmare.”
Margaret, the other cashier, turned around and laughed. No one was in her lane, and Sam still hadn’t returned.
“It’s been horribly slow,” Beck said. “My feet and back ache from standing here for almost six hours straight, and all we’ve gotten are a bunch of freaks coming through.”
Sam came in from outside, pushing her cart up to Margaret’s lane.
Beck shook a fist at her. “And pretty Miss Samantha gets here straight from school and only makes it worse because all she can think about is not breaking a nail.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.” She spread her fingers out to look at her painted pink nails. “At least I don’t keep disappearing into the bathroom or sneaking outside to get a smoke.”
Beck looked at me. “Don’t listen to a word she says about me. It’s all lies.”
“I’d forgotten how much I hate working here,” I said. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“I was trying to,” Beck said. “You should never come back. Especially since your mom’s been putting enough money in a college fund for you to get through med school.”
I tensed up at Beck’s allusion to how much money we had. Money left from Dad’s life insurance was in an account for Holden and me. None of it touched. For the most part, Daniel’s salary paid our monthly expenses. Mom’s paid for holidays, vacations biannually, and clothes quarterly, with a large chunk going into savings accounts for Oops, Nathaniel, and me. He was right, but I didn’t want that known. Especially when a lot of the money was connected to Dad dying.
Mr. Bischoff returned from outside, carrying a handful of cloth bags.
I was grateful for the distraction.
“Sorry about that, missy.” He smiled and handed the bags to me. Between him being super specific about the order of how Beck needed to ring up the groceries, and then how I was supposed to pack them, along with Sam mocking in the background, I was almost ready to walk out. I don’t need this money.
I still had to help him out to his car. Why couldn’t this grocery store be like every other modern one that makes customers do the unloading themselves? To think, I’d once thought this job was fun.
Out by his car, after I loaded everything into his trunk, he came around with two twenties as a tip.
I couldn’t believe it, which he pushed on me despite my protests. As he was about to drive off, he lowered his window.
“Is Daniel Schuster your father?”
A strange feeling landed in my stomach. “He’s my stepdad.”
“I thought you looked familiar.” He pointed at me with a self-pleased smile. “Daniel has a picture of you on his desk at work along with a couple of other kids, though with your similar features, I thought you were his. You’re a good worker, like him.” He rolled up his window, waving as he drove through the lot.
I wasn’t sure if I should take that as a compliment, nor what to think about Daniel having a picture of me on his desk. Like I was one of his kids.
I stood under the overhang of the grocery store, feeling displaced. I really didn’t want to go back inside.
Across the parking lot, heading for the other entrance, a tall, now-familiar stud walked alongside a dark-haired lady.
Asher.
As a competitive edge came over me, I picked up my pace to go inside. I wanted to be the one who bagged their groceries instead of Sam.
I returned to Beck’s lane. What were the chances they’d come through his lane instead of Margaret’s?
“That took you ages,” Beck said. “Was he as much of a nut outside as he was inside?”
“Huh—oh.” He was referring to Frank, not Asher. “He’s eccentric, for sure.” I came up alongside Beck and slipped him the tip from Frank. He needed it a lot more than I did. “But fifteen minutes got you forty bucks in tips.”
“Wow, thanks, Tara.”
Monica arrived and asked to see me back in her office.
“Do you still want to quit?” she asked.
“Probably,” I said.
“I could use you during Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“Let me think about it.”
I walked back out to the front of the store where post-supper-time had brought in a wave of people before the store closed.
In Margaret’s lane, Sam was drowning in a huge load for bagging. Beck was getting yelled at by a customer several spots back in line as he struggled to scan and bag for a woman who had a dozen kids scrambling around the store. She was only buying five items, but her hoard was making mischief with all the candy, and it was taking her forever to get her wallet out and pay as she frantically scolded the main mischief-makers.
At least three more shoppers waited in each lane.
And there, the one intelligent person hitting up Jethro at Customer Service, was Montrose, buying a bouquet of red roses.
“Are you dating someone?” I shot at him as I hurried to help Beck.
Was he dating Miss Elleck? It was about time he found someone.
“That’s not your business,” he answered, though he trailed me to the bagging area. Placing the flowers down on a closed lane, he helped Sam bag her mountain. “How are your brother and Cam doing?”
“I haven’t heard from them in a couple of months.”
I glanced in Sam’s direction. Had she heard from Cam at all?
I still didn’t know if Cam had any idea how much she’d crushed on him. After it was her suggestion I go for Jerrick, her betrayal still burned in my stomach.
“You know, bagging groceries was my first job,” Montrose said. He lingered for a few minutes, smiling and soothing several of the irritated customers, bagging groceries and giving Sam and me time to take customers out to their cars who wanted the help. Pure alvs have a natural lure about them that attract or, in this case, calm people.
As the craze faded, Montrose picked up his flowers.
“Get her some dark chocolate,” I said.
He stroked his jaw, smiling a little, and disappeared further into the depths of the store.
So there was a love interest. Like muscle memory, an urge to gossip with Sam stole over me.
I swallowed it like bile.
By the end of the rush, I had seventeen dollars in tips, which I gave to Beck. Sam jumped on and helped me with the last big order, so I let her take the customer out, hoping she’d get a tip from him. The customer was an old grandpa, so I figured she would.
Plus, there was a certain tall customer I was waiting on. It had been a while since I had seen him enter, and I was beginning to fear I’d missed him leave in all of the chaos.
Sam returned with a smug look on her face, like she’d planned to take over my customer and steal the loot. She could have all the buried treasure in the world, and I wouldn’t care.
“Seeing you two work together brings back some good memories,” Margaret said.
Don’t remind me.
I folded my arms and glanced at Sam. She was back to checking her nails.
“What do you think?” Sam flipped her golden hair over her shoulder and looked at me. “I’ve been thinking about dying my hair red again.”
“Don’t,” I said. “You hated it last time, and you were a pain to be around until your mom paid for something different.”
She bit her lip and jutted her jaw. Rolling her eyes, she
advanced down one of the lanes. “You stay here. I’ll help Deidre face the shelves.”
Once she was out of sight, Beck said, “Bet you anything, she’s gone to find that kid who came in.”
“What kid?”
“Tall blond one who comes here ’bout once a week with his mom. They always pick up dinner together and eat it in the cafe. Sam always disappears when he’s in the store.”
They eat here. That would explain why it had taken them so long. So Asher must still be here.
The fool in me felt the urge to scour the store until I found Sam talking to Asher, whereupon I would interrupt whatever romantic interlude Sam had devised.
But I didn’t want to thwart yet another of her love interests. Rivals were supposed to do that, but I wasn’t hers.
I sighed. Maybe I should let her bag his groceries.
“He’s a looker for sure,” Margaret said.
“Tara, can I get you some ice cream afterward and drop you off at home?” Beck asked.
“Daniel is coming to get me.”
As an old friend of Holden’s, I was bound to be cornered by him with questions. He’d either ask me about Holden or maybe even Jerrick, and I didn’t want to talk about either one of them.
“So I’ll call him,” Beck said, already taking out his phone. Before I could stop him, he had Daniel on the phone.
Curse people who kept phone numbers of old friends in their contact list.
“Mr. Schuster, it’s Beck. Hi, I’m working with Tara. I can bring her home for you.” Beck handed me the phone. “He wants to make sure it’s alright with you.”
“Yeah, Daniel, it’s fine,” I found myself saying, despite not wanting to get cornered by Beck.
Of course, Daniel always tried to get me to talk when it was the two of us in the car. Nathaniel was finally old enough to stay home with Oops for a short time.
“Sounds good,” Daniel said, “I was going to pick up some chocolate chips for cookies. Do you mind grabbing some?”
“Not at all.”
“Thank you. See you home in about an hour?”
A warm feeling stole over me, and for some reason I got choked up. I really do take him for granted. “Yep. Bye.”
I slipped Beck his phone. Technically, we weren’t supposed to have them out while working.
The next minute ticked by so slowly, and then I caught sight of the top of Asher’s blond head over the aisle dividers before he emerged and directed a halfway-full cart into Beck’s lane.
My lane.
My heart started racing, and it was all I could do to stop smiling.
He didn’t seem to notice me.
Coming up behind him, Mrs. Scoville was tall with long dark hair and sea-green eyes. “Asher, I really don’t know about half of these items.” She narrowed her eyes as Asher unloaded fresh vegetables onto the belt. “It would be so much easier to order take-out for supper. There are healthy options out there. It wouldn’t have to be fast food.”
“Relax, Mom,” Asher continued as the woman stood to one side, not helping with the unloading. He seemed a bit stiff. “You won’t have to do anything with it. I will.” His volume was well under control, but I could sense he was irritated. “You know I love to cook.”
Now that was intriguing.
“But you should focus on your studies to get caught up from last year, and practice basketball. Not cook and clean.”
Caught up from last year?
“I’ve already told you. I’m not trying out this year.”
“But, Ash, you love basketball, too.”
Asher tensed up, and I was reminded of our conversation earlier about how he didn’t like nicknames. “How many times are we going to go through this?”
As bags of different colored peppers, onions, and tomatoes began to pile up, I spoke up. “Paper or plastic?”
Asher’s gaze jerked in my direction, his eyes widening in surprise. “Tar—” he cut off abruptly. “Plastic is fine.”
Okay, so not at all friendly. Disappointment made dark source flourish in my chest.
Mrs. Scoville’s gaze landed on me, and her brows knit together. A look of dislike stole over her features. “Make sure you don’t mix the meat with the vegetables,” she said. “Or squish the bread.”
I gave her my best customer-friendly smile, even though the hair on the back of my neck was rising like an angry cat.
I decided against slipping in one of the Thank you for shopping with us slips. She didn’t need to know my name.
Once Asher had finished unloading their shopping cart, he joined me at the bagger’s end and helped with packing. Briefly, our arms touched, and we looked simultaneously at each other.
“I didn’t know you worked here,” he whispered.
I bristled. “I asked not to be scheduled over the summer.”
“Ah.”
Glancing at Asher’s mother, I hung one of the bags on the cart. She studied us with unfriendly eagle eyes. She’s probably another reason not to like Asher.
A sad feeling stole over me.
“Why don’t I help.” Sam came up from behind and bumped her way through to my lane.
I took a step back, and the depressed feeling sharpened, negative source brewing.
Asher moved away also. I could feel his gaze burning on me. “I was having a hard time finding something. Tara, maybe you could help me?” He touched my elbow.
My gaze shot up to him. He wanted to be by me more than Sam?
“Mom, I forgot one thing. I’ll be right back.”
“Asher, whatever it is, I’m sure we could do without.”
“It won’t take long.”
With a glance my way, he headed into the store through one of the empty aisles.
Sam’s look of irritation was hard to miss.
This might be a mistake.
Rubbing my elbow where he’d touched me, I followed Asher. “What did you need help finding?”
He looked over his shoulder at me. “Milk.”
“Milk?” I repeated in disbelief. “That’s like the easiest thing to find.”
“Yeah, well, I’m so tall, it’s easy for me to miss. You think you can help?”
“For sure,” I tried to stay cool, but inside it was hard not to feel excited. Anxiety followed close on the excitement’s heel.
Asher grinned, and I really loved the mirth filling his eyes.
Does he know anything about last year?
Reaching the back coolers without problem, Asher opened the door and reached down for the whole milk. To his credit, the gallon-jugs were stretched across the bottom two shelves.
“Asher, I was kind of wondering…” As he began to double up milk in each hand, I grabbed one from him, then a second.
He looked at me, waiting for the rest of my question.
“Well, I wanted to know if you’d heard anything about last year—about me—”
“A couple of people have tried to tell me stuff, but I didn’t want to listen.”
My brows rose.
“You know, I had stuff happen last year, too. I figure why not—” his gaze flitted across the store, “why not you and I start fresh. Getting to know each other as we are now, moving forward. Not worrying about what happened in the past.”
What kind of stuff? I wanted to ask, but the idea of starting fresh with someone, not knowing each other’s past and choosing who we were now…of moving forward...
That sounded nice.
“Why would you keep trying after I’ve been so mean to you?”
He grinned, and his cheeks pinkened. “Uh. I don’t know. Kind of embarrassing—but I’ve watched how you tutor Jack. You kind of light up when you do.”
My cheeks burned.
“I also know what it’s like, having everyone hate you. Figured maybe we could bond over that.”
“Who could hate you? You’re like one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met, and I’m not exaggerating.”
His brows knit. “Yeah, that’s why I was hopi
ng you and I could start fresh.”
“Well. We’re kind of stuck being partners in math and lit, so we can start there.”
“Just lit. You made me form a threesome in math.”
“About that—yeah, let’s see how being lit partners goes.”
He grinned. “Count me in.”
“I don’t think you have a choice.”
When Beck dropped me off, Mom drove up at the same time. After she parked her black Mercedes in the garage, she came out to meet me on the drive. Tied back from her face, her blonde hair was a frizzy mess.
“You’re out late,” she said, like she was hopeful for my social life. “Was that Beck’s car?”
“I filled in for Jack at work.”
“Didn’t you quit?”
I didn’t want to discuss with her why I was still on the payroll at Smart Way. Or anything else for that matter. “They didn’t schedule me during the summer.”
“Oh. Everything else going all right?” she asked.
“Yeah. Fine.”
“Did you make things up with Sam?”
“No. That’s not ever going to happen.”
“Daniel said you are failing social studies.”
“I worked it out. It’s fine.”
“You know, if you don’t keep your grades up, you’ll have a harder time in college.”
That was all the educational advice she ever gave me. Great job, Mom. “I’m not going to college,” I snapped.
We entered the house. Daniel emerged from his room, a look of surprise on his face as he looked at Mom. “You’re home at the same time.”
Before anything else could be said, I tossed him the chocolate chips and retreated up the stairs, slamming the door behind me.
A few minutes later, after I’d already changed into pajamas, someone knocked on my door.
“What?”
“Can I come in?” Daniel asked. “I wanted to show you a car.”
He was serious earlier? “I’m going to bed. Make it quick.”
Daniel entered with his laptop already open. “Birthday present from me?” He showed me an ad for a used Volkswagen Beetle listed at five-thousand-five-hundred. “Doesn’t have to be this, but it has to be in that price range.”
I stared at the red vehicle, not sure about it, but realizing the significance of what Daniel had offered.
The Changeling's Source (Evedon Legacy Book 1) Page 11
