Treasured Past by Linda Hill Read Free Book Online Page A

to just leave the furniture outside and make Annie bring everything in herself. But the number of people in the store made it clear to me that it would be a long wait before Annie could take a break.
    Beth wasted no time in solving the problem. She waited until Annie had wrapped up a customer’s purchase and thanked them before approaching the counter.
    “Annie, I hate to do this. But I really need to get to my son’s baseball game.”
    “I didn’t know you have a son. What’s his name?” Annie’s smile was broad.
    “Billy,” Beth smiled. “Unfortunately, I don’t get to spend a lot of time with him, so it’s important that I be there.”
    Annie glanced my way. “Don’t worry about it. You two go ahead and take off.”
    “Oh no,” Beth waved her off. “We wouldn’t dream of asking you to drag all that stuff in by yourself. Kate can hang around until the end of the day if you wouldn’t mind giving her a ride home.”
    I could feel my face reddening, and I bit my lip. I was sure that Annie would feel like she had been saddled with me. But I was wrong.
    “What a wonderful idea.” Now she turned her attention to me. “Can I put you to work while you’re here?” She was grinning.
    “You can certainly try,” I told her. “But I’m not promising that I’ll be much help.”
    She let her eyes wander boldly up and then down my body before nodding firmly. “You look trainable enough.”
    I pretended that I wasn’t embarrassed, but I didn’t miss Beth’s smirk. Shrugging my shoulders, I refused to meet Beth’s eyes. “Then I’m all yours,” I told her, knowing that Beth’s smirk was turning into a huge grin.
    Once Beth had left, I asked Annie whether or not she had anyone to help her in the store. “It seems awfully busy in here for just one person.”
    “I’ve had help on and off in the past. But I can’t afford to pay much, and it’s hard to fmd someone that you can trust.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. She paused to answer a question from a young woman interested in Fiesta ware.
    “I’m afraid I’m not going to be much use to you,” I told her. “I don’t know anything about this stuff.”
    “That’s okay,” she said easily. “It would be a big help if you just stay back here behind the counter and greet people for me.”
    “I think I can manage that. But can’t you give me something else just a little more challenging to do?” I couldn’t stand feeling useless.
    “Sure. Can you work a cash register?”
    I didn’t want to admit that I never had, so I nodded. It looked simple enough to me.
    “Good. Let me show you how we write things up.” Annie was all business now, and I focused hard while she showed me how she wrote sales receipts. Every item in the store had a white tag that included an item number, a description of the item, and a price. All the information was written on a two-copy sales receipt. The white copy went to the customer, and the yellow copy was placed in what amounted to a little shoebox under the counter. Each price was entered into the cash register, which calculated the sales tax and the total sale.
    The procedure was simple enough, even for a gal like me who had never lived through the rite of passage that most kids do at one time or another. I’d never worn a McDonald’s uniform for a single day of my life. Although I did remember a time when, as a preteen, I’d envied the lime-green polyester uniform worn by the girls behind the counter. I remembered the wide round ring that was the zipper pull, and the matching lime-green hat. I’d thought that the outfit was absolutely stunning. It wasn’t until years later, when my mother reminded me of how desperately I wanted to wear that uniform, that I laughed until I nearly cried. The thought of hamburger and French-fry grease permeating the polyester outfit made me cringe when I remembered the uniform that I’d wanted so badly.
    I was smiling at the memory and only nodded when Annie made some kind of