Identity

4

I finish my ten minute walk to Greta's bake shop, but stop outside the front door. I look up at the big colorful sign that reads Gram's Cookies, and notice the little paint chips around the edges that I didn't notice last time I was here. I look at the wooden door with wonder and confusion.

Should I do this?

Is this a good idea?

I close my eyes and take a large gulp of air before letting it back out again.

Here goes nothing.

I walk inside and am met with the strong aroma of fresh bread and melted chocolate. It warms my insides and reminds me I haven't eaten today. Then I realize I'm not sure when the last time I've eaten was.

As I'm back tracking my last meal, I'm interrupted by the sweet, soft voice of Greta, "Oh dear, you're here already? You're early!"

I look at my hands, not really sure what to do with them, "I was getting bored at the apartment." Why do I feel so vulnerable around this women? I usually stand like I'm ten feet tall, and can make men weep with fear if I so please. Yet, with this women I feel like a little child getting caught doing something I shouldn't be doing. I look up and meet her warm smile. She has her hand on her hip and is wearing a bright red apron around her neck, "Well don't just stand there. Come man your post!"

I walk behind the counter to where the register is. It sits next to the sliding glass doors of the display case with fresh baked goods being showcased in all their glory. My stomach makes a low growl sound at the sight of the chocolate chip cookies. They look gooy and fresh from the oven. At the register there is a shelf underneath with white backs, tissue paper, and stickers of the logo.

"This is your captain's quarters. The register is a little old but won't give you any trouble if you give it a little love. When someone orders something you just grab a tissue and grab it, put it in a bag, fold it, and stick it with a sticker. I made you a cheat sheet for the register. Each item has a number, you just push it and press total and it will do all that tax mumbo-jumbo for you." She finishes gesturing with her hands at all the different items in front of me and look at me with a raised brow, "still following me?"

I respond by nodding my head slightly. She nods back and continues, "Good, come with me." She turns and brings me to the back where there are ovens, equipment, tables, and so many mixers. "This is the heart of the operation. I spend most of my time back here. If you need me at any point, just come back here and holler." she gives me a warm smile before going back to the front. "Alrighty, put on your apron and get to work!"

She waves at the apron that lays slack in my hands then begins to walk back towards the kitchen. "Wait," she stops at my plea and turns with a cocked eyebrow "That's it?" She continues to look at me confusingly so I continue, "That was the whole training?" And of all the responses I expected from her, I didn't expect to see her lean back with laughter.

"Oh dear Addy, it's a good thing you're pretty," she managed to choke out between lifts of giggles. "It isn't intense brain surgery, it's a cashiers job. I think you'll manage." She squeezes my shoulder and gives me another famous Greta smile. She sure does smile quite a lot. With her so close to me I can see the wrinkles around her eyes from many years of laughing and smiling. She is quite shorter than me and her posture is a little curved.

"Alright now get to work! I'll be in the back if you need me." And as if on cue, as Greta leaves me behind the bell on the door pings proudly, indicating the first customer to arrive.

~*~*~*~*~*

I think you'll manage she said.

It's just a cashiers job she said.