Chapter One
November twenty-ninth. Black Friday. The day after Thanksgiving. Otherwise known as hell to retail workers.
Looking out over the cash wrap, I watch as frenzied shoppers load their hand baskets with books and knickknacks while holiday music blares through the store's speakers. The line to check out wraps and spans down the nearest aisle. Every check stand is manned, and my employees are situated around the store, helping customers find the perfect gifts for their loved ones. We’re stocked, staffed, and operations are running smoothly, all things considered.
Still, it’s the absolute worst time for my grief to hit me like a paperweight, socking me square in the stomach. Everything becomes muffled—my sight, my hearing. All I can recognize is the ringing in my ears.
Thanksgiving was hard. Christmas will be harder.
“Hey, Zee, are you okay?” one of the women on my staff asks. Her voice floats through the brain fog and pulls me back to reality. It’s like someone has taken off my blindfold and unmuted the TV as the store comes rushing back into focus. “You look really pale. Do you need to sit down?”
“No, it’s okay,” I insist, shaking my head. I give her a tight-lipped smile and turn around to busy myself by straightening the go-backs that line the rear counter.
A tear trickles out from my bottom lashes and rolls down my cheek. Quickly, I swipe at it, erasing it from existence as I bite my lip to keep more from falling.
For a second, I allow myself to close my eyes as I grip the counter tightly, counting backward in my head while inhaling and exhaling as I attempt to ground myself.
Four…
Three…
“Hey, Zee! Can I get a price override?” another employee calls out from a few registers down.
My eyes snap open, and I turn around with a grin in place. “On my way!” I singsong as I hurry over to where he stands with an annoyed looking customer.
The next three hours fly by, and when I’m finally able to collapse on the break room couch, I barely muster the energy to pull my homemade PB&J out of my lunch bag. Settling back against the cushions, I close my eyes.
Someone entering the room quickly disturbs my peace, though, so I go back to the sandwich I’m holding and peel back the foil it’s wrapped in.
“Hey, Zee! Hope I’m not bugging you,” my friend Genesis apologizes as she starts rustling around her locker.
“You’re not.” I take a small bite of my sandwich. “I like your claw-clip.” Her black curly hair is pulled back with a red oversized clip with vintage looking Christmas lights that are lit up.
Genesis lives a few floors up in my building, and we met one afternoon as we were both waiting for the elevator. She started here a few weeks ago as a seasonal employee to make a few extra bucks while she’s going through nursing school. We’ve growncloser recently, and it’s nice to have someone to call a friend, even though I’ve been selective about the things I’ve told her.
She smiles. “Thanks! I just got it a couple of days ago. My mom, sisters, and I all bought matching ones to wear on Christmas, but it’s too cute to not wear more than that.”
My face falls at the mention of her family, and I must not be quick enough to correct it because her eyes widen and she immediately apologizes again.
“Ah, so you’ve heard.”Word travels quickly around here.“It’s fine, Gen. Never be sorry for speaking about your family.”
It’s not your fault I don’t have one anymore.
“I know we haven’t exactly reached this level in our friendship yet, but if you need a place to spend the holidays, my family would be happy to have you over. We have a huge family and it’s a ‘the more the merrier’ type of vibe for us.”
“That’s sweet, but I’ll be fine.”
“What’d you do for Thanksgiving?”
Sat on my couch watching reruns of Gossip Girl while eating a rotisserie chicken and cranberries from a can.“I kept it low-key.”
Genesis assesses me silently while taking a bite of her own sandwich—turkey with cheese. She purses her lips, then stands abruptly. “I’m gonna go to the cafe and grab a coffee. You want one?”
Finishing my sandwich, I crumple the foil and toss it into the trash can just a few feet away. “No thanks, I’ll never sleep tonight if I have one now.”
“I wish I had that problem! I sleep like the dead.” Genesis flinches. “Shit! I’m so sorry.”
I laugh, but it’s the fake laugh I’ve had ever since I became numb. “It’s okay,” I reassure her. “Don’t worry about it.”
