Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Quickly, I snag a cart from the row by the door and make a beeline for the back of the store. My music is still playing—“Another Day in Paradise” by Phil Collins.
It’s an oldie but a goodie, and I choose to embrace the vibe as I swing open the fridge door to grab the milk Josie requested. I even find myself shaking my hips a little when the chorus hits. I quickly check the expiration stamps on the whole milk and choose the two with the furthest out, before swinging them off the fridge shelf and down at my side.
I lift my foot to tap the door shut, but when I look up and see someone standing beside me, someone I definitely know, the balancing act of being on one leg with two gallons of milk hanging at my sides becomes impossible to juggle.
I start to fall forward, and the only way to stop myself from crashing to the floor is to grab the cart with my hand and steady myself. Alas, one jug of milk doesn’t make it in that scenario and hits the floor with a hard glug.
White liquid splatters out of the now-cracked plastic like a rushing wave on a flooded river and makes its way across the floor and right onto Bennett Bishop’s shoes.
Oy vey.
Bennett
Milky white liquid gushes across the tile floor of Earl’s grocery store and surrounds my brown leather boots until the soles are no longer visible.
I look at my boots and then back up at the horrified expression on Norah Ellis’s face.
“Oh my God!” she cries so loudly it makes my ears ring. “I’m so sorry!” she keeps shouting while she puts the one jug of milk she managed to keep off the floor into her cart.
Why on earth is she screaming? When I realize she has earbuds in, I point toward her ears. “How about you take those out, yeah?”
Her cheeks turn an impressive shade of pink as she fumbles with the headphone cords until she has them removed from her ears and in her pocket.
“Seriously, I’m so sorry. I think I ruined your boots.”
I almost want to laugh at how much time this woman has spent apologizing to me in the last week and a half. Someone better get Guinness on the line because she has to have reached a record by now.
Since I don’t have a cart of my own, I put my carton of eggs and Summer’s Danimals Smoothies in Norah’s cart and head for the front of the store to find Earl. He’s behind one of the registers, just like normal on Saturdays since he’s usually short-staffed.
“Hey, Earl,” I call out and successfully grab his attention. “Where are the mops?”
“Mops?” he questions as he runs a loaf of bread over the scanner for an older gentleman named Harold Metcalf, the owner of the diner on Main Street. I’m pretty good at recognizing everyone after being in Red Bridge for so long, but Harold with his distinct comb-over and handlebar moustache is hard to miss.
“I need to clean up a little spill.”
“Where at?”
“Refrigerator section. Just some milk.”
Instead of telling me where the mops are, he grabs the microphone beside his register. “Cleanup on aisle two!” His voice screeches and crackles through the speakers of the grocery store. “I repeat, cleanup on aisle two!”
For fuck’s sake.
“I can do it,” I urge, and he shakes his head.
“I don’t pay Lance to sit around and play on his damn phone. He’ll do it.”
Lance just turned eighteen and has been working at Earl’s for as long as I can remember. He’s also lazy as fuck and rivals Houdini whenever there’s work to be done. I once watched Earl shout for Lance to come help at checkout for a good ten minutes while I stood in line behind five other customers, only to find out he’d excused himself to Bear Lake with some friends twenty minutes prior.
As I head back toward the refrigerator section, I hear “Cleanup on aisle two, Lance!” another five times before I make it to where Norah stands in front of the milk spill.
Her cheeks are cherry red now, and there’s a part of me that would find that level of embarrassment over spilled milk adorable if I thought about it too much.
“Earl is handling the mop situation.”
“Yeah, I think everyone in the store is aware of that.” Irritation dances around the edges of her voice. “Did you really have to make such a thing of it?”
“It’s not a big thing. I tried to get a mop, but Earl insisted that one of his employees needed to do it.”
“Dammit, Lance!” Earl’s voice is in the speakers again. “Get off your butt and head to aisle two! It’s an emergency!”
Norah groans and rubs a hand down her face. “Holy hell, this is not an emergency.”