We’d sold four other copies of this print since I started working, so I’d heard that comment before. Yeah, the cowboy painted leaning against his chestnut gelding could’ve been my older brother, except for his dark eyes. Weird coincidence.
When my boss, Claire, saw what I was doing, she hustled over. “Fascinating, isn’t it? The original of that print was painted in 1986, years before Austin was born. And yet, such a resemblance. We’ve wondered if it’s his grandfather, an uncle, maybe even his father.”
“You don’t know if that’s your father?” The customer peered at me from under her carefully styled hair.
“No, ma’am.” I trotted out the cowboy drawl and best shy smile. I didn’t resemble my father in any way, except for the color of my eyes, but I enjoyed lying about him. “I reckon my mother could tell us, but she’s long gone.”
“Oh dear, how interesting.” The customer ran a manicured finger along the edge of the frame. “So pretty, too, with the colors of the sky and all. Yes, I’ll take this one.”
“Do you want it gift wrapped?” I asked. “We have this Western motif paper that’s kinda pretty. Just an extra five dollars and save yourself the hassle.”
“Yes, good idea. Do that.”
“I’ll ring you up while Austin does the wrapping.” Claire led the woman toward the register, talking up the collection of turquoise jewelry in the case below.
I made quick work of a Styrofoam sheet, a cardboard protective layer, and then the festive paper. By now, I was good at neat corners and tape. Once wrapped, I brought the package to the counter. “Here you are, ma’am. The front here is where the glass is. I padded it, but best to not set anything on it. And here’s a bow.” I passed her one in sandstone brown that went with the paper. “It’s easier to lay the picture flat without, and add the bow when you’re ready.”
“Thank you, Austin.” She tapped a long fingernail on the nametag pinned to the front of my denim shirt. “An appropriate name for a cowboy. My friend will enjoy this picture of your ancestor, whoever it was.”
Claire smirked at me as the woman carried her prize out of the store. “Coincidence strikes again.” Like she wasn’t the one who told me to wear my Stetson and denim to work, after the first customer who’d been struck by the resemblance. “Now go help those two with the ornaments.” She pointed at a pair of women inspecting the artificial tree hung with miniature boots and hats, horses and cacti.
Across the room, Michelle, my counterpart in retail hell, was trying to up-sell a customer from the quartz crystals to the geode bookends. I glanced at the rustic clock on the wall, which said we had twenty minutes left of this Christmas Eve rush before we closed our doors at four. Time to sell a few dozen knickknacks.
By four-fifteen, we’d shooed the last procrastinating customer out the door. Claire flipped the switch for the lighted sign to “closed” and sighed. “Done. I’m locking this damned door, and I don’t care if a billionaire shows up wanting to buy the entire stock for their Aunt Susan.”
That was a lie, because Claire would totally make us work another hour for a billionaire with spending in mind. Luckily, odds were low.
I pulled off my Stetson and wiped my brow.
Michelle said, “I’ll come in late tomorrow after gifts and church, if you want, and tidy up. I want to get home to my kid right now.”
“Sure, put off cleaning until tomorrow. We open again ten a.m. on the twenty-sixth, all set for the returns.” They made a face at each other. Claire handed Michelle a few candy canes from the jar by the register. “Merry Christmas.”
“You, too. Bye, Austin.” Michelle slipped into the back hallway leading to the staff entrance.
Claire turned to me. “So.”
“So,” I echoed, knowing what was coming.
“You know I’d keep you on if I had the hours for you. You’re a hard worker and good with the customers, but the rush is over. Things will be slow until mid-March. I might need help again then, if you want to check back with me.”
I almost laughed at the familiar offer. Instead, I said, “I hope to be back on the ranch then.”
“Well, if you’re not. Feel free to use me as a reference. I hope you find something soon.”
“Thanks.” I stuck my hat back on my head. “I hope the returns aren’t too bad.”
“Me, too.” Claire laughed. “I wonder how long it’ll take me to sell the last of the six cowboy prints, now you’re gone. That was a good gimmick. Hey, you want to buy it? I’ll give you a double staff discount.”
“No, thanks. I know what my daddy looks like, and it’s nothing like that.” More’s the pity. Although on second thought, it was a lot easier being pushed around by a guy who didn’t look one bit like me.
“Sure. Well, I’ll calculate your final paycheck and get your pay direct-deposited for you on the twenty-sixth. I won’t make you wait to the end of the two weeks.”
That was unexpectedly thoughtful of her, though a few days’ pay wouldn’t do much for my now-unemployed budget. “That’s great. Appreciate it.”
Claire held out her hand. “You can take off. I’ll close up tonight. You probably have somewhere a lot more fun to be than here on Christmas Eve.”
Not really.But I couldn’t face another hour of restocking and polishing and all the rest of the closing chores, even though I should grab the extra thirteen dollars minus taxes. “Thanks.” I shook her hand. “I really appreciate the opportunity you gave me. I needed the work. You took a chance on me.”
