Summer at Fraser’s Mill

The Perils of Canned Food

G race hadn’t texted Lucas back yet about the second date. She’d started to compose a message a couple of times, but indecision prevented her from sending it. In the meantime, running into him at school felt awkward. On at least one occasion, Grace found herself ducking around a corner when Lucas came into sight.

He was nice enough, and smart enough, but somehow, Grace wasn’t enthusiastic about going out with him again. She had to admit he was nicer than most guys she had met. Actually, he checked most of the boxes for what she was looking for in a guy. If she hadn’t been stressed about the stupid oysters, and if he hadn’t made that off-hand comment about getting bored reading children’s books and said The Lord of the Rings was a kid’s story, things would have gone better. She should probably go on the second date and give him another chance. Grace had read a number of articles that said attraction could grow if you gave it time.

It was the last week of school, and though it was less stressful than Grace’s finals weeks in college, it did involve extra work. She was giving her students final quizzes—not really exams, but things that needed review in order to wrap up the semester. Grace had review classes all day with her three fifth-grade periods and three sixth-grade periods.

On her way to lunch after morning classes, she checked her phone. Three missed calls from her parents? That was unusual. Her parents didn’t usually call during the school day. Maybe something bad had happened. Grace stopped in her tracks and called them back.

No answer. Rats! She’d better send a text—not that Mom was likely to answer a text when she hadn’t answered a call, but sending it would make Grace feel better.

“Sorry I missed your call,” she wrote. “I hope everybody is OK! I just tried to call, but nobody answered.”

Grace made sure her phone ringer was on and went to get her lunch from the teachers’ break room.

She was grading a stack of papers and eating a naan bread sandwich when Mom called. Grace left her things and went in the hallway to answer the phone.

“Grace.” Mom’s voice sounded high-pitched and breathless. “I know you were in class all morning, but I wanted to get a hold of you because it’s important. Your dad broke his foot, and we’re at the hospital.”

“What? What happened? Is he going to be all right?” Dad was the last person who seemed likely to break his foot. He was a careful man. She could see him getting injured trying to lift something that was too heavy—he was stubborn that way—but how would he break his foot?

Two other teachers were calling to each other across the hallway. Grace headed for her classroom for the next period, always empty at this time, so she could hear better.

“It was a stupid can of baked beans,” Mom explained. “One of those huge ones for potlucks or picnics. It weighed seven pounds and five ounces. Your dad was putting something on a high shelf and lost his balance. He knocked that can of beans off the shelf and it landed on his foot.”

“Good grief! That sounds awful.” Dropping something on your foot was painful enough without any bones breaking.

Grace went into her classroom and shut the door behind her. Now she could hear better.

“It was miserable,” Mom said.

“Poor Dad! What did he do?”

“He yelled for me—I was in the back. I found him sitting on the floor by the canned goods. He couldn’t stand to put any weight on the foot, so we figured it might be broken. I ran next door and got the doctor. He said we’d better go to the hospital in Cadillac and get it X-rayed.”

“Are you at the hospital now?”

“Yes. We got here around one o’clock, and we had to wait a long time for everything. Your dad’s still waiting to have his cast put on. He’ll have to wear it for about six weeks, and he won’t be able to put any weight on that foot at all.”

“He won’t like that,” Grace said. “How is he? Does it still hurt a lot?”

“Doc gave him some pain medicine before we went out to the hospital, so that helped some, but it’s still bad. Not that he would let on. He’s just sitting there saying his Rosary and waiting for the doctor to come back. I already told Katie and Thomas. If you all would say some prayers for your dad, we’d be grateful.”

“Of course I’ll pray! Boy, Mom, that sounds horrible. Poor Dad.”

“I know. He’s worried about the store, too. We had to leave Natalie to run everything all alone, and there’s a bunch of deliveries coming. Today was already a busy day, and now this had to happen.”

“Wow. I’m so sorry. I hope Dad won’t be too stressed about the store. He just needs to rest and get better.”

“I’ve been trying to tell him that. He says he doesn’t know how we’re going to manage, with him on crutches for six weeks. For the first few days he isn’t supposed to do much at all, and he’ll have to keep his foot elevated.”

“What are you going to do? Can you get people to cover for Dad?”

“We’ll have to try. Oh, the doctor’s back. I’ve got to go. I’ll fill you in on more later. Love you.”

Grace sat down on the edge of her desk. Six weeks was a long time, and her father was an active man, always busy working in the store and helping around the house and in town. He would hate being on crutches. The store wouldn’t do as well without him, either. Mom and the other store employees would have to work extra, making up for him. The whole thing would be hard on everyone.

Lunchtime was nearly over, and Grace still hadn’t finished her lunch. She’d better go finish it, or she’d be hungry and cranky all afternoon. Going without lunch did bad things to her. She never understood those people who could go half the day without eating anything and say they were fine.

The teacher’s lounge was empty. Grace’s sandwich and other belongings were still at the table as she had left them. Grace bolted the sandwich and hurried to her next class, nearly forgetting to silence her phone. The last time she’d left it on, it had rung in class.

Mom was unlikely to call again during class, but Grace planned to call later to hear about Dad’s progress. Maybe she’d be able to talk to him then. She wouldn’t feel satisfied that he was okay until she heard it from him in person.

The review classes Grace led for her sixth graders that afternoon weren’t the most coherent classes she had ever taught. She was grateful today wasn’t her teacher evaluation. Some of the students still seemed confused about the material at the end, and Grace resolved to make things clearer tomorrow. The students didn’t deserve to be left confused just because she was distracted today.

She sighed with relief when it was time for dismissal. “Remember, only three more days, and you’re done for the summer,” she told the students. “It’s important to stay focused for those three days so you finish the school year strong.”

As the students filtered out, Olivia Moreno came up to Grace’s desk. “Miss Murray, what are you going to do during the summer? Do you take a vacation, or do you have to work?”

“Well, some teachers take vacations,” Grace said. “But I’m going to do some extra teacher training and work delivering groceries on the side. I used to work in my parents’ grocery store, so I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“My big brother works in a grocery store,” Olivia said. “Maybe you’ll be at the same one.”

“That would be cool.” Grace smiled. “What are you going to do this summer?”

“We’re going to Yosemite in July. Have you been there?”

“No, I haven’t. I heard it’s beautiful.”

Olivia raced off to find her friends, and Grace gathered her things to go home. Yosemite sounded fun. Maybe she’d go there someday when she had time and wasn’t working in a grocery store all summer.

It was funny, when she’d come out to California, she’d thought she was leaving the grocery business behind. But here she was, about to do it again. It was going to be a hot summer delivering groceries with no car AC. Too bad Los Angeles didn’t have the cooler northern weather Grace had known growing up.

§

Grace was at her apartment, baking frozen pizza for dinner, when the phone rang with her parents’ number. She picked up. “Hello?”

“Gracie, it’s me.” A familiar paternal voice with a Southern drawl came over the phone.

“Dad! How are you doing?”

“Just fine, sweetie.” Dad’s voice sounded tired but cheerful. “The doc got my foot set and we’re on our way home. Your mom said I should call. She said you were worried about how I was holding up.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m glad you’re doing better. That sounds so painful.”

“It’s all over now. Doc’s got me on crutches for six weeks—”

“And you’ve got to keep that leg elevated,” Mom’s voice said in the background.

Dad chuckled. “And I’ve gotta keep the leg elevated. Only problem is,” his voice turned serious, “it’s gonna be mighty hard to run the store. I’m gonna be stuck in the house for a while, and even when I can get back in the store I’m not supposed to put weight on the foot. What your mother’s going to do without me, I don’t know.”

Grace could hear her mother’s voice in the background again. Dad chuckled. “Your mother’s telling me I should stop worrying about that,” he said. “I know, the Good Lord will get us through it. But I wish I could find somebody with experience to help out. The only people to hire around here are usually teenagers who haven’t worked in a store before.”

“Oh boy,” Grace said. “Do you think it would do any good to put up a ‘hiring’ sign in the window or something?”

“It can’t hurt to try. We’ll put one up tomorrow.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Grace said. “I feel so bad for you, worrying about the store when you just need to rest and let your foot heal. Maybe I could do something remotely, over the computer?”

“Now, Gracie, I didn’t call to worry you,” Dad said. “Your mother and I know how busy you are. You’ve got a job to do, and that certification to get ready for. Besides, I can do computer stuff for the store when I’m laid up. We’ll find help here in Fraser’s Mill, and it’ll be fine.”

“Well, I’ll say some extra prayers about the store, as well as your foot,” Grace said. “I love you guys.”

“Love you, Gracie.”

Off the phone, Grace took the pizza out of the oven and poured herself a glass of milk. As she studied National Board materials over dinner, her thoughts kept drifting back to her parents and the store. She wasn’t getting much done.

How on earth would her parents manage with Dad unable to work in the store? He was essential to the business. Growing up, Grace had always been impressed with his knowledge of his trade. He excelled at figuring out how much food to order from their wholesale supplier and setting prices in the store. On the floor, he worked the hardest of anyone to ring up purchases, clean up spills, and talk people into buying things. Mom knew the store as well as he did, but she couldn’t do the work of two people.

Maybe Grace had better say some prayers for her parents and get to bed early. If she got enough sleep, she could go on a morning run. That might help clear her mind.