These Coming Years

Chapter Thirteen: Stale

While talking with Jed, I asked about how easy it would be to find a job around town. He told me it would be exceptionally easy for me to get rehired aback at that old shop at the far end of the mall.

"Actually, from what I've heard they're closing it down soon," he mentioned. "But Nancy is staying there to run the new business. Pretty sure it'll be just another clothing shop, but it'll be a fresh store, fresh job. I remember how pissed off you got at that old place. Everything was a mess, and we were given problems way passed their fixing date. A brand new store would do you good."

I couldn't help but agree. Nancy Greenwood. If she was going to run the new store, then I would definitely ask to join, and I would definitely be welcomed back.

-----

Memories gave me a quick smack against the cheek as I entered through those same double doors. I entered the doors opposite of the walls separating this store from the rest of the mall. I knew if I looked to my right, I would see many women scrambling around a salon, searching for hair dye, and a manager to let them in the cash-room for even more dye. I could hear the snipping of scissors, and the mixing of developer.

Additionally, I knew if I stared to the left, I would see a doorway, with the women's lavatories at the end of a long hall, and the men's on the left wall. Directly across the men's room, there was another door. Employees Only. Back there was where we would clock in and out, take our breaks, and where we could go to find the cash-room, and the managers' offices.

Ah. Just as I left it.

The shop had three separate check-out counters. They each had their own departments. The one closest to me, had a very young, black-haired girl standing behind it, looking bored. Her areas to cover were the shoes, the baby clothes, little boys' clothes, and the home department - sheets, and towels. The next counter's worker would cover the little girls' clothes, the juniors girls, women's average sizes, jewelry, purses and accessories. The furthest counter sat just inside the store from the mall entrance. It covered mens' clothes and accessories, and women's plus sizes. It was the most boring counter to cover, I knew from experience.

The girl at the shoe counter seemed extremely displeased when she noticed me walk up, but she shoved a fake smile onto her face. "Hi," she greeted, sounding overjoyed about my presence, "How can I help you?"

"Hi, I'd like see Nancy Greenwood, if at all possible," I told her.

"Oh, um, is Nancy here today?" the girl - Angelica, her name-tag said - asked a woman straightening a display of women's casual shoes. She was too far away for me to read what her name was.

"Should be," she responded in a thick southern accent. "Get 'er on the walkie." I didn't know the floor specialists very well when I had originally worked there, but I didn't think either of these women had worked there long. They seemed very unsure of themselves. You can't afford to not be confident when you're dealing with customers all day. A sympathetic customer will politely excuse your lack of skills, but an angry customer will eat you up.

I browsed through the dwindling shoe selection, waiting for an answer. Good thing this place is shutting down, I thought. It's looking pathetic.

"Who was it that called for me?" that familiar European accent chimed. I turned back to the desk. "Elisa!" Nancy exclaimed. Her hair seemed brighter than last time I saw her, but her crow's feet were getting deeper. "How are you?" she accepted my handshake.

"I'm great now that I'm back home," my smile was uncontrollable.

Nancy was one of the kindest people I had ever met. Working for her was my first real job, and she knew that. If I made a rookie mistake, she held me responsible, but taught me how to correct it and encouraged me to continue trying.