She lifts her head, and disappointment hits me in the chest.
“What?”
“Sorry. What can I help you with?”
She pulls out a ticket and hands it to me. “I’m here to buy this back.”
I check the item number and head over to the showcase. I pull out an antique gold locket and flip it open—inside is a photo of an old woman and a little girl holding hands.
“That’s my grandmother and mom,” she says, and I grunt as I find a bag and ring it up.
“It’s not something I ever thought I’d have to pawn,” she adds nervously. “I’m just so glad I was able to get it back.”
Instead of keeping my mouth shut like I should’ve, I look up at her and shake my head. “You’re not the first to hock a family heirloom for cash, and you won’t be the last.”
She swallows. “No, I guess not.”
“Maybe make better choices. Next time, you might not get it back.”
She glares at me, her mouth dropping open. “Wow. No wonder you usually have a woman working. If people had to deal with you, they’d never come back.”
“Yeah, well. She’s gone too. So I’d think twice before pawning something else.”
“You manage a pawnshop.”
I cross my arms. “I own it.”
“And you judge the people that bring you business.” She nods to my cut. “I thought you’d know better than to judge people.”
She’s right, but don’t offer her an apology.
She shakes her head, suddenly looking sad. “My ex-husband beat me. But when he hit our son, that was it. I took him and left in the middle of the night with a bag of clothes and that locket. He tried to get full custody. The money from hocking my locket—as you put it—went to paying my legal fees. Now my son sleeps safe at night, knowing he never has to put himself between my unconscious body and his father’s fists again. So go ahead, judge me. I don’t give a single fuck,” she snaps, her chest heaving.
I stare at her, my stomach twisting with disgust at the man I’ve become. I hand her the locket, and when she tries to pay, I cross my arms.
“Keep it.”
“No, thank you. I don’t need your pity.”
“It’s not pity. It’s penance. Go treat your kid. Hell, treat yourself. I think you both earned it.”
She swallows, looking confused, and I can’t say I blame her. Half the time, I don’t understand myself either.
“Um…are you sure?”
I cock a brow. “What do you think?”
“I’m not sure you want to know what I’m thinking right now,” she mutters.
Despite myself, I crack a smile. “Probably not. Better leave before I change my mind.”
She nods, still looking confused but also grateful. She heads for the door, stopping with her hand on the push bar, and looks back over her shoulder. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For reminding me that not everything is what it seems.”
