an emergency rotation during my medical residency. The only nice thing I could say about working at Emerson’s was that the owner hadn’t asked for photo identification when I applied, eliminating an awful lot of worry for my undocumented self. Also, in comparison to the hospital, I dealt with less blood.
Unless, of course, I did bludgeon Gordie with the ham. That would result in a serious amount of cleanup in aisle five.
I only had a few more weeks of checkout duty before I would be moving on, winding my way toward Anchorage. It was just easier that way. Now that I was living in what I called “gray time,” I knew there was a maximum amount of time people could spend around you before they resented unanswered personal questions. Of course, I’d also learned a few other things, like how to recognize a guy who planned on following me to my car, or how to lift the odd wallet for quick cash. And now, I was trying to learn the secret Zen art of not bashing an indecisive cornflake lover over the head with preserved pork products.
I turned to glance back at Gordie, who was now considering his oatmeal options.
I swore loudly enough to attract the attention of my peroxide-blond fellow retail service engineer Belinda. Middle-aged, pear-shaped, and possessing a smoker’s voice that put that Exorcist kid to shame, Belinda was the assistant manager at Emerson’s, the closest thing to a retail mecca in McClusky, a tiny ditchwater town on the easternmost border of Alaska. Because I was still a probationary employee, I wasn’t allowed to close up on my own. But Belinda was friendly and seemed eager to make me a “lifer” like herself at Emerson’s. I suspected she wasn’t allowed to retire until she found a replacement.
“I’ve known Gordie for almost forty years. He can make a simple decision feel like the end of Sophie’s Choice. Painful and drawn-out,” she said, putting a companionable arm around me as I slumped back against my counter. It was an accomplishment that I was able to give her a little squeeze in return. It had taken me months not to flinch when someone new got inside my personal-space bubble, not to shut down and pull away. This was a particularly useful skill, considering I’d spent the last three years in the company of some very “demonstrative” people. Shrieking and shoving at someone when they patted you on the back tended to draw attention.
“You’re thinking about throwing one of those canned hams at him, aren’t you?”
I sighed. “I guess I’ve made that threat before, huh?”
Belinda snickered at my irritated tone. I glared at her. She assured me, “I’m laughing for you, Anna, not at you.”
I offered her a weak, but genuine, smile. “Feels the same either way.”
“Why don’t you go on home, hon?” Belinda suggested. “I know you worked a double when that twit Haley called in sick. For the third time this week, I might add. I’ll close up. You go get some food in you. You’re looking all pale and sickly again.”
I sighed, smiling at her. When I’d first arrived at Emerson’s, Belinda had taken one look at my waxy cheeks and insisted on sending me home with a “signing bonus” box of high-calorie, high-protein foods. I was sucking down protein shakes and Velveeta for a week. Every time I put a pound on my short, thin frame, she considered it a personal victory. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that my pallor wasn’t from malnutrition, but from stress and sleep deprivation. I gave her another squeeze. “I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all. Thanks. I owe you.”
“Yeah, you do,” she said as I whipped my green Emerson’s apron over my head. While making my way to the employee locker room, I heard her yell, “Damn it, Gordie, it’s just Cream of Wheat. It’s not like you’re pulling somebody’s plug!”
Chuckling, I slipped out the back to the employee exit, shrugging into my coat, and waited for the slap of frigid September air to steal my breath. I snuggled deeper into my thick winter jacket, grateful for its insulating warmth. Years before, when I’d first arrived in Alaska, I’d only brought the barest essentials. I spent most of my cross-state drive shivering so hard I could barely steer. Eager to help me acclimate, my new neighbors had taken great pains to help me select the most sensible jacket, the most reasonably priced all-weather boots. I missed those neighbors with