“Do they ever come visit?”
She frowns. “From time to time, yes. But they all lead their own lives now. I was just a stepping stone for them.”
“I’m sure you meant more to them than that, Felicia.”
“They meant more to me, that I can assure you.” She says, sliding a finger down my cheek. “When you were a little girl, I always knew that you’d be special. You had a sparkle. And now that you’re going to be a psychologist, well, I guess I was right.”
“I’m hopefully going to be a psychologist. I really want to, that I can tell you.”
“Anything that we really want, we’ll find a way to get it, sugar. That’s what I truly believe.”
“I believe that, too.”
***
“Now, you’re sure you’ll be okay for a few minutes? I’ve just got to go to the bank and get some change.” Carol, my boss at the gift shop, asks me.
“Yes, I’ll be fine.” I wave. Working here is way easier than working at the restaurant. I don’t have to balance anything on one arm, touch hot plates, or deliver overpoured beverages. The only challenge here is calculating the correct amount of change in the event that a customer decides to pay with cash. I’m a straight A student. I think I can handle keeping watch on a gift shop that barely sees customers, so the most demanding function here is to dust the merchandise off daily.
“Okay, darlin’. I’ll be back right quick.”
“Take your time, Carol.” I swear she only hired me for company and to watch the shop should she have to leave. And even then, she could just post her sign on the door to say ‘back in five minutes’. Something tells me that this woman only keeps this shop open for something to do. Like a retirement job. Felicia thought it was the mother of her student that needing a body in the store, but it’s actually her mother. I suppose that once her granddaughter started school and grew out of her meemaw, that she needed something to fill the spaces. She’s a widow. So, no husband to keep out of trouble, either.
I feel bad for all these lonely women that are around me. My fear is that one day I’ll be one of them. Even though it was only for a short time, the love that I had for Gunner will never be matched. Just glancing at another man makes my skin crawl lately. And for every man I see, I make the comparison. Perhaps it’s my lack of experience that’s having this effect on me, but no matter what it is, I always think about him. I’ve battled with myself sometimes over whether or not I should look him up, but I know that I wronged him. I left him without so much as a note. Not a phone number, an address…nothing.
He didn’t even know my real last name…
***
Gunner
The bell sounds as I pull the metal and glass door opens into the sleepy little gift shop. The place is so tiny, yet it’s packed with everything: gift packages filled with balloons and flowers, buckets line one side of the floor with both real and artificial flowers in water, teddy bears stacked on shelves upon shelves, greeting cards, t-shirts and other clothing items, knick knacks, snacks, you name it, it’s here. It’s so crammed with items that the small counter at the front is barely visible from the door.
I hear a small voice welcome me, but her back is to me at first. I say howdy back, and head straight for the section with clothing racks, searching for a blue onesie. When I find it, I then look for a floral arrangement, fit for a new mama and her son. For a tight space, it sure is set up well enough for a non-shopper such as myself, to find something quick. I’ve got the onesie hanging over my cast, just so it won’t fall over and hit the ground, but I’m not sure how I’m going to pick out a card or a floral arrangement with only one arm, and I suddenly regret not asking Blake or Austin to come with me.
I’m getting sick of depending on other people since breaking my arm, but it won’t be long. Another week and this thing comes off. And I’m just looking at a flower arrangement, when I hear the clerk come up behind me. “Can I help you with something?” she asks.
I’d know that voice anywhere. I swallow and turn around to face the girl that I love and hate all in the same breath. Recognition comes to her face the second that our eyes meet. Her eyes bulge for a moment, but then they go to the floor. “Gunner. Hi.” She says, almost regretfully.
I don’t respond at first. “No, I’m fine, thanks. I think I’ve got this.” I say tersely.
“Wh…what happened to your arm?” she asks, still searching the floor with her eyes, like she can’t even look at me, she’s so goddamn ashamed. And she should be. Leaving me hanging like that. Punishing me for something I never did. Shaming me for loving her. Taking her folks’ side, even though she knew damn well that they were wrong. Dead wrong.
“I broke it.” I answer coldly.
“I can see that.” Her eyes are on my arm. “Do you need a hand with the flowers?”
“No, thanks.”
She sees the onesie and something in her face changes. “D…did y’all have a baby?”
Oh, I get it. She thinks that I just up and slept with the first dang bimbo I could find after she left me. Not suffering through the last six months of hell. Struggling to get over the first and only girl I ever loved. Nosiree. “My sister-in-law and my brother.” I answer shortly.
“Oh.” She breathes. “Well, tell them I said congratulations.”
She looks at me for a second, and my nostrils flare. She looks away. “I’ll be at the counter when you’re ready to check out.”
“Fine.” I seethe. The hate in my veins is almost unbearable. I’ve never been so angry before in my life, and that includes when my brother Austin tied my shoelaces together when I was going on stage to perform at our school’s Christmas concert when I was in the third grade. Fell flat on my face in front of everyone. And what was worse, my mama had to come on stage to help me with my bleeding nose, because everyone was too busy laughing at me.
