I can tell by the curious gleam in her eyes, but I have no desire to get into that story. The way she says that makes me laugh, although I probably should be offended by her incredulous tone. My friends and I are hoping to go down and maybe, you know. There’s a film that’s supposed to be shooting in the city. “Yeah… I mean… sort of.” She blushes as she shoots me a look. Alanis Morissette’s Ironic is coming on, and if I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to lose my sanity. “Special day?” I guess when I pull away, holding the money out to her before she can even tell me my total, hoping she’ll take it instead of hugging me again.

“Yeah, well, I could always use the overtime.”īethany squeals again, reaching across the lane to grab ahold of me, squeezing me in a hug. “I didn’t think there was anyone to cover my shift.” “Oh my God!” She shoves my cereal in a white plastic bag. “Marcus approved your day off,” I tell her. Bethany closes the magazine and tosses it down in the bagging area before ringing me up. I set my cereal down on the conveyer belt and pull out a few dollars. Bethany stands at her register, skimming through a magazine she grabbed from the rack beside her. I stroll down the cereal aisle on my way through, snatching a box of Lucky Charms off the shelf. “Will do,” I say, walking out before he can ask me for anything else. “Stop by on your way out and tell Bethany I’m approving her request.” I want to say no, because I hate running registers, but I’m too nice for that. Bethany asked for the day off but there’s no one to cover.” “I need an extra shift worked, if you’re willing to pull a double on Friday. “Actually, I know how you can make up for it,” he says.

He knows I’m good for it, which is why he gives me leniency. “I’ll make up for it,” I say, clocking out. Marcus is tall and slim, with brown skin and black hair that’s starting to show signs of impending gray.

I stroll to the front corner of the store, to where Marcus, the manager, hangs out in an office tucked behind Customer Service. The radio moves on to Lisa Loeb’s Stay, and that’s about when I decide I’m done with this day. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate whatever you make,” I say, “but he’s more of a chocolate cream pie guy.” “Does he have a favorite? Apple? Cherry? Thought it might be pumpkin, or maybe pecan.” “Thought about baking him a pie,” she says. I start straightening up the candy rack near the register. I don’t have to look to know she’s talking to me.

Ghosted by jm darhower