Lost December

  “What’s up, guys?” I asked.

  Wayne smiled. “Congratulations. You’re our new day shift manager.”

  Suman put out his hand. “Congratulations, man. You’ll do a great job.”

  Oddly, my first thought was less about me getting the job than about Rachael not getting it. For a moment I looked back and forth between them. “Thanks. I wasn’t expecting this.”

  “Of course you were,” Wayne said, grinning. “You’ll take over the day Suman leaves. Which is …”

  Suman shook his head. “I’ve told him like twenty times.” He turned back to Wayne. “The twenty-second.”

  Wayne nodded. “The twenty-second. So Suman will teach you everything you need to know until then.”

  “He already knows everything,” Suman said. “Don’t you?” When I didn’t respond, he shoved me. “Don’t you?”

  “Right,” I said. I wasn’t paying attention. I was thinking about how Rachael would handle the news. “When are you going to tell the others?” I asked.

  “I already have,” Wayne said. “Colby just found out this morning, but I called Rachael over the weekend and told her. I wanted to give her some time to deal with it.”

  I wondered if that was before or after our dinner. I could only imagine what Rachael was thinking of me now. “How did she take it?” I asked.

  “Honestly, she wasn’t real happy. But not surprised either. She’ll get over it.” He slapped me on the back. “So let’s get some lunch to celebrate. My treat. You like sushi?”

  “Love sushi,” I said.

  The three of us stood and walked out of Wayne’s office. As we were leaving, Suman said to Rachael, “We’re leaving for lunch. You have the floor, Rachael.”

  “Okay,” she said softly. She glanced at me then turned away.

  Rachael didn’t say a word to me the rest of the day. Finally, about an hour before quitting time, I saw her go into the back room for paper. I followed her, shutting the door partially behind me. “Rachael.”

  “What?” she said without looking at me.

  “Look, I’m sorry about what I said to you the other night—the wild boar thing. That was mean. Can we please just forget about it and move on?”

  She turned around. “That’s easy for you to say,” she said. “Chris talked nonstop about you all day yesterday. He didn’t need that complication in his life.”

  “Complication?”

  “Yes, complication.”

  “If he was talking about me all day, maybe that’s exactly what he does need.”

  “You have no idea what my son needs.”

  “You’re right. I have no idea. It’s just unfortunate that he had such a good time that he wanted to talk about it all day. What an awful thing.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think this is a joke?”

  “No. I think the way you’re handling this is a joke. Do you think you’re the only one with problems? You think you’re the only one who has ever been betrayed?”

  She bristled at the word. “I didn’t say anything about being betrayed.”

  “You don’t need to. Why else would you wear that much armor?”

  She stood there staring at me, speechless. “I have nothing to say to you. Now please let me by.”

  I stepped sideways. “By all means.”

  “Oh, and congratulations on your promotion.” She pushed past me and went back out to the front counter.

  I followed her out. “Is that what this is about?”

  “No. I didn’t care for you before you stole my job.”

  “Stole? It was yours to lose.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you didn’t deserve it. You know what? You make people feel bad. Whatever the world did to you, you’re certainly giving it back.”

  “I could never give back that much.” Her eyes welled up with tears, and for the first time I saw just how deeply she had been hurt. I regretted my comment. She looked down, covering her eyes with her hand. “Please, just leave me alone.”

  I looked at her, wanting to say something, wanting to apologize, but I knew she didn’t want me to. I walked away from her. She didn’t look at me again the rest of our shift, and she disappeared quickly at quitting time.

  CHAPTER

  Thirty-Eight

  Sometimes it’s not strength but gentleness

  that cracks the hardest shells.

  Luke Crisp’s Diary

  My job at the Golden Age changed as well. We had lost several residents in November and I helped Carlos quickly fill the vacancies. The facility had, for the first time ever, a waiting list to get in. I think Carlos sensed that I wasn’t going to be able to keep up both jobs forever, so rather than lose me, he changed the deal. The day after my promotion at Crisp’s he brought me into his office.

  “What’s up?”

  “How do you feel about feeding residents?”

  I shrugged. “It’s not really my career path, but with the kind of money you’re paying me, it’s hard to give up.”

  He smiled. “Well, I have a better offer. I’ll pay you the same monthly salary as you make now if you’ll come on as my marketing director for two afternoons a week—you pick the days. I just need you to keep helping Sylvia until the twenty-third. That’s when I’ve got some new people starting.”

  “I still get meals?”

  “Meals, apartment, laundry, everything. Heck, you can still wear scrubs if you want.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, my friend. But you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  The twenty-second of December was Suman’s last day at Crisp’s. Around lunchtime we had a small going-away party to celebrate his new adventure. Wayne had purchased ice cream and a devil’s food cake at the grocery store down the street. He hadn’t checked the cake at the store so he didn’t notice until he opened the cake box at Crisp’s that they had misspelled Suman’s name. The cake read:

  Bon Voyage, Shoe Man

  Wayne was pretty upset by the mistake and overly apologetic. Suman thought it was hilarious. He took a picture of the cake with his phone and insisted on having the piece with his misspelled name. He took the cake, climbed up on a chair and sang in his best John Lennon, “I am the shoe man, I am the shoe man, I am the loafer, goo, goo, g’joob.”

  Rachael didn’t attend the party. Rather than trading off, as we usually did for internal events, Rachael volunteered to stay out front the whole time. I didn’t like that she had excluded herself and I kept looking out at her. I took her a piece of cake that she refused with a simple, “I’m on a diet.”

  Wayne noticed my concern and pulled me aside. “Look, Luke. You’re the right person for this job. Rachael had every opportunity for the promotion and she blew it. In fact, I put her on probation. I told her if she doesn’t change her attitude we may have to let her go.”

  This didn’t make me feel any better. We were winding up our party when we heard an angry customer shouting up front. Suman turned to me. “You’re up to bat, manager.”

  “Thanks, shoe man,” I said, shoving a final bite of cake into my mouth, then throwing my plate into the trash. I walked out front to see what was going on. A heavyset man in a dark business suit was standing at the front counter yelling at Rachael. The man was red-faced and looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel in his neck.

  I walked up to the counter. “Excuse, me, sir. May I help you?”

  “I doubt anyone around here is competent enough to help anyone,” he said. He waved a finger in Rachael’s face. “This is the last time I bring my business here. Do you understand? Last time.”

  “Sir,” I said calmly, “please tell me what’s wrong.”

  He turned to face me, waving a piece of paper in the air. “I brought this job in yesterday to have printed. I specifically asked this woman for one-sided copies. Instead, I have printing on both sides. I can’t use this. My conference begins in one hour at the Tropicana.”

  “Let me see,” I said. I examined the fl
iers, then looked over the order form. The job was marked for double-sided printing. Rachael had incorrectly marked the order form.

  I looked back up. “I can see why you’re upset. You’re absolutely right, this was supposed to be printed single-sided. But it’s not her fault, sir. It was mine. I’m new here and I got the order wrong. But more important than my incompentency, is that you need your handouts right away. I’ll pull the job I have on the copier right now and get your order for you in fifteen minutes. Will that give you enough time to get back to the Tropicana? Or do you need to get back and have me hand deliver them to you?”

  He calmed down a little. “I suppose I can wait fifteen minutes. Just hurry.”

  “Of course. Fifteen minutes. Tell you what,” I said. I pulled out my wallet. “You don’t want to stand around here waiting, there’s an In-N-Out Burger across the parking lot. They have the best strawberry shake you’ll ever try. I practically live on them.” I offered him three dollars. “Go get yourself a shake on me. By the time you’re back, I’ll have your job done, boxed and ready to run. Since it’s already been billed to your account, I’ll credit back a fifty percent discount for your inconvenience. You just need to sign the pickup form. Now go get one of those shakes.”

  He looked at my dollars waving in front of him. “You don’t need to …”

  “Please. I’m embarrassed. It would really be doing me a favor.”

  He awkwardly took the cash. “All right. I am a little hungry. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.” Then he added, “Thank you.”

  “Please,” I said. I took the order back and put it on the machine. A couple minutes after he was gone, Rachael walked back. “That wasn’t your mistake.”

  “I know.”

  She stood there for a moment, then turned and walked back to the front. The man was back in less than fifteen minutes. I had already printed the handouts, boxed them and given them to Rachael. She handed them over the counter. “Here you go, sir.”

  The man was calm as he took the box. “I apologize again for my mistake,” I said. “I hope I didn’t cause too much of an inconvenience.”

  “No, I’ve still got time. Everything will be fine. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. See you next time.”

  “You bet you will.” He started to turn then stopped. “What’s your name?”

  “It’s Luke.”

  “Luke, if you ever need a job in customer service, I’m hiring.”

  “You flatter me, sir.”

  “You’re good,” he said, shaking his head. “By the way, that shake really was good.”

  “Nectar of the gods,” I said.

  The man laughed as he walked out. After he was gone, Wayne walked up to me. “What was that about?”

  “Nothing. We mixed up a job of his. But it’s handled.”

  His brow rose. “We?”

  I looked into his eyes. “I got it wrong.”

  He looked at me suspiciously. “Really? That’s a first.”

  “Everyone makes mistakes. Even me.”

  “Do you know who that was?”

  “A customer.”

  “He’s Charles Cunningham with Omega—one of our most important accounts.”

  “I thought they were all important.”

  He grinned. “You are good.”

  The rest of the afternoon went without incident. Rachael left work before me and without a word. As I was walking out to my car, Rachael shouted to me. “Luke.”

  I turned around. She was standing up against the building.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  She walked up to me, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Why did you do that? Why did you take the blame?”

  “It’s good business. I’m the new guy. Everyone expects the new guy to screw up.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  I just looked at her for a moment and then said, “You look like you could use a break. Everyone needs a break now and then. It’s no big deal.” I turned to go.

  “Luke. I’m sorry.”

  I turned back. “Me too.”

  “Can we get a coffee?”

  “You don’t owe me.”

  “That’s not why.” She looked down for a moment. When she looked back up, her eyes were wet with tears. “I could use a friend too.”

  For the first time since I’d met her, she looked vulnerable. “I can’t do anything now, I have my other job. But I can when I get off work later tonight.”

  “When’s that?”

  “Around ten.”

  “Okay,” she said, slightly nodding. “I’ll give you my number.”

  “I have it,” I said.

  She looked surprised. “You do?”

  “I’m the manager.”

  “Of course. I’ll see you later. Thank you.” She turned and walked slowly to her car.

  CHAPTER

  Thirty-Nine

  To open the book of another’s life requires great care,

  as the pages must be turned with delicacy and caution—

  but it is usually worth the effort.

  Luke Crisp’s Diary

  I finished work then called Rachael and we arranged to meet at a coffee shop near her home. She was already there when I arrived. I paid for two large coffees and carried them to a vacant corner near the back of the shop. We sat down at a round-topped table for two. Rachael seemed a little anxious, so I started the conversation with a couple softballs. “Who’s watching Chris tonight?”

  “I have a neighbor in our apartment building who watches him while I work. She has a son his age, so it works out.”

  “How long have you worked at Crisp’s?” I asked.

  “About three years. I started right after …” she stopped. “About three years.”

  “That’s a while.”

  “Well, they’ve been good to me. Chris has some health problems and I can’t get insurance anywhere else that will cover them. But Crisp’s has full coverage.”

  “Do you mind me asking what kind of health problems?”

  She hesitated. “Emotional ones. He sees a counselor every week. And he takes some medications for ADHD.”

  I nodded sympathetically. “He’s a likable kid.”

  “He’s a good kid,” she said. “No child should have to go through what he’s gone through.” She looked at me. “The man who owns Crisp’s is a family man. He takes care of us.”

  “He’s a good man,” I said.

  “You say that like you know him.”

  I paused. “I’ve met him,” I said.

  “I’d like to meet him someday,” she said. “I’d like to thank him.” She stirred her coffee. “I have a question for you. Why do you know so much about the copy center?”

  “I’ll tell you, but …”

  “You’ll have to kill me?”

  I laughed. “No. But you have to promise to never tell anyone.”

  “I can do that.”

  “I used to be a regional manager for Crisp’s. I managed twelve stores.”

  She looked at me in surprise. “Does Wayne know that?”

  “No.”

  “Why wouldn’t you tell him?”

  I thought about how to answer. “I have my reasons.” She looked vexed. “Did something happen?”

  “You could say that.” I took a drink of my coffee.

  “You’re not going to tell me,” she said.

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Fair enough,” she said, lifting her cup.

  “So let’s talk about you,” I said.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Where’s Chris’s father?”

  Her expression fell. She set her cup down.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “That was abrupt. You don’t have to tell me.”

  She looked down for a long time and I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Then she said, “He took his life.” Her eyes began to well up. I reached over and took her hand. When she could speak, she said, “My husband, Rex, sold re
al estate. We came to Vegas because the real estate market was exploding down here. At first it was great. We were making more money than I ever dreamed we’d make. We bought a nice little place in Henderson. Rex bought himself a custom Corvette. Things were going really well.” She wiped her eyes with a napkin.

  “We were going to wait to have a baby until we were better established, but with all the money, I didn’t need to work, so I got pregnant.

  “A couple years after Chris was born, Rex started working late all the time. Then he started bringing less money home. Not too much, but enough that we had to cut back. He told me that the market had gotten tighter and he had to work more to try to keep up with our expenses.

  “What he didn’t tell me is that he had developed a gambling addiction. He had started gambling with some of his clients and it just got out of control. He started spending all his lunch breaks at casinos. It went on for years.

  “He started acting different. I had no idea what was going on. At first I thought that maybe he was having an affair. If someone had told me what he was really doing, I wouldn’t have believed them. When we were dating, the only card games he knew were Go Fish and Solitaire. I don’t think that he had ever even tried a slot machine.

  “But once he was hooked, everything changed. He started missing his appointments and he got fired from the agency he worked for. Then, as things got worse, some of our things started disappearing around the house. One day I came home and someone had broken in. Our TVs, computers and jewelry were all gone. I should have suspected something, since whoever broke in seemed to know where everything was.

  “Then, a month later, my wedding ring disappeared. I thought it was our house cleaners, but I couldn’t prove it. I fired them. We couldn’t afford them anymore anyway, but even after they were gone, things kept disappearing.

  “Then one day I opened a credit card statement. My first thought was, there’s some mistake here. We don’t have a Discover card. It was maxed out to twenty-five thousand dollars and the monthly payment was late. I called the company. But they wouldn’t talk to me because I wasn’t on the account. I was waiting for Rex when he got home. That’s when he confessed to the gambling. I pressed him on how much he owed. He lied at first. He said it was only the twenty-five thousand on the card. But I went online and pulled up our IRA and retirement accounts. He had drained them all. I freaked out and started hitting him. Then I kicked him out of the house.”