1. Samuel #2
So, I hurried around the counter, using the three seconds my hands were free to shake them out, and grabbed the crate from the other side.
Ignoring how the handles cut into my fingers, I lifted it and rushed it over to her.
The rack shook when I heaved the crate onto it, squeaking like I had physically hurt it.
“You’re weaker than I thought you’d be,” Grace said with a gentle grin, more amused than judging.
“Sorry,” I muttered, staring down at my shoes.
I didn’t want to be a burden. Even though this wasn’t my dream job, I knew I still had to give it my all.
My parents had drilled into me that even if you don’t love the job, you show up, you try, you earn it, and you will be rewarded.
“I’ll make up for it with enthusiasm... or speed. ”
“Don’t worry about it.” She paused, then shrugged.
“Better to be careful than to end up in the ER. You’ll build up muscle, eventually.
” We stared at each other for a second, acknowledging that while none of this was ideal, we’d make the best of it, before she nodded behind me.
I got the hint: time to start building up that muscle.
I hurried back through the yard, forcing myself not to glance at the guy in the California sun shirt, who was alone now. I could feel him watching when I rushed crate number two through the backyard, and still, when I grappled with number three.
Grace would’ve been faster if she had just gone herself, but as if she wanted to prove a point, she stayed put, restocking shelves, like she was convinced that my struggling through this was the right way to set my expectations for the job from the start.
My arms were aching by the time I dashed into the backroom to get crate number four—almost colliding with California-sun-shirt-guy.
He blocked the door, carrying four crates like they weighed nothing.
I stopped short. His eyes locked on me, unreadable, like he couldn’t decide whether he found me ridiculous or just sad.
His right eyebrow lifted, as if asking where he should set them. I pointed to the floor in front of him.
“Thank you. I... I can take it from here,” I panted, my voice pitching a little too high.
He didn’t move right away. He merely stood there, his eyes still on me, breathing easily. “Are you sure?” he uttered, his voice low and steady—not unkind, but not warm either.
“Yes. Really. Thanks,” I said, nodding too fast.
He exhaled, and when he set the four crates down, the floor shook beneath them.
“You need more?”
“No, that’s all we needed. Thank you.”
“If you say so?—”
“Sam?” Grace’s voice cut through from behind me.
As he saw her appear in the doorframe, he straightened his back. “Morning, Grace.”
“Do you need something?” she hissed at him.
“No, ma’am. I just thought I’d help your trainee while I had nothing better to do. He seemed kind of... exhausted.”
Her eyes shot at me, her face clinching, sending shivers down my spine.
For her only being two years older than me, she had the whole boss thing down already.
I crouched and lifted a crate. She stepped aside and let me pass without a word.
As I walked back into the front room, I couldn’t help overhearing them.
“What was going on with the police car?” he asked.
“I didn’t see one,” Grace replied. “Why? Are you afraid they were looking for you?”
“I was just curious,” he sighed. “It’s not like a police car pulls into the farm every day.” Silence followed, the kind that meant something was being said without words. “Well,” he added eventually, “I’d better head back if you don’t need any help.”
“You better,” Grace replied, and the door creaked shut behind him.
I set the crate down too hard, and the rack wobbled like it was ready to give in under the weight. I steadied it, then made my way back to the storage room, only to find Grace waiting there for me with crossed arms.
“Are you friends with him?” she asked, her head tipped back like she was ready to fire me on the spot if I said the wrong thing now.
“No? I have no idea who that is.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” She nodded at the crates, making it clear that I wasn’t done here, and then walked out the back door. No explanation of who he was. No hint why she treated him like a threat instead of just a guy offering help. And of course, that only made me more curious about him.
After twenty more minutes of restocking oranges, juice, flour, and marmalade, the store looked... well, not good , but ready to be opened.
However, instead of releasing the old folks from the agony of standing in line, Grace slumped onto a chair behind the register.
“Now we wait,” she said. “Can’t let those geezers think they’re the kings of Red Creek by opening early.
” She reached under the counter and pulled out a worn plastic cup, sipping from it as if it were the only good thing in her day.
“Once I unlock the doors, just watch for now and restock if anything runs out. Don’t talk much or they’ll never leave.
These old folks always come in not to buy, but to chat.
And not even about anything interesting.
Like, yes, Helen, it’s hot. Again. You can’t deny climate change and then wonder why the weather is so much more extreme than it was twenty years ago. ”
I gave a quiet laugh, unsure whether she was joking, hid my hands behind my back, and leaned against the wall.
She looked me over, her eyes scanning from my shoes to my face. “So, what have you been up to for the last year?”
“Nothing interesting,” I replied.
“It was quite a surprise to see you walk into the job interview. I figured you’d be halfway through college by now, given that everyone made a fuss all about you back in the day.”
That had always been the plan: finish high school and then head off to college.
During my senior year, we occasionally saw each other in an extra-curricular math class that she helped tutor.
Thirty-two rejections during high school, a full year of college prep courses graciously financed by my parents, and another forty-three rejections later, all I had to show for myself was one spot on a waitlist—nothing I could proudly mention to anyone.
“That was mostly parents and teachers. Turns out that perfect grades from Red Creek High mean less than if I had graduated in another state. But, well...” I drew a deep breath and forced a smile. “...for now, I’ll just focus on this job.”
“Hm.” Grace took another sip. “Well, then, welcome to real life. It sucks, but not as much as you think. You’ll get a few nice moments, here and there.”
“If that doesn’t sound promising,” I laughed, scratching the back of my head.
“Oh, believe me, you’ll?—”
The back door creaked open, making both our heads turn. Sunlight spilled across the back room floor, and a burly man’s dark shadow filled the frame, one I knew too well from my job interview. It was Mr. Farley, Grace’s dad, the owner of the farm, and the man who agreed to take me on.
I straightened fast and pushed myself off the wall, as if I’d been caught slacking before the job had even begun.
Mr. Farley walked up to us and offered me his hand. Without hesitation, I shook it. His palms were rough and calloused—real farmer hands, not the kind used to resting.
“Good morning, Mr. Cauley,” he said. “How has Grace been treating you?”
“It’s been great,” I said, standing stiff. “Grace has been taking good care of me. I’m... I’m grateful for the opportunity to work here.”
“Glad to hear that.” His eyes flickered to Grace and then back to me. “Let me cut right to the chase. I know we’ve been talking about you working in the store, since you’ve got the brains for it...”
What a nice way of saying that everybody knew I was better off inside with an AC, not out in the unforgiving sun like the rest of the real men.
“...but we’ve got a problem. A couple of my guys called in sick today, and we’re behind on the fields. I need you out there, at least for today.” He looked at Grace again. “You can handle the store alone, right?”
“I have been for weeks now,” Grace replied, rolling her eyes.
“Believe me,” Mr. Farley said, turning back to me. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to.”
My breath got shorter. This wasn’t part of the deal.
I wasn’t ready. Not for that. But... I couldn’t say no to this.
His question was more rhetorical than anything, and refusing his request wasn’t the perfect first impression I wanted to make.
My dad’s friendship with Mr. Farley might have gotten me a foot in the door, but if I didn’t live up to his expectations, that door would slam shut before I could even prove I was worth the risk.
So, I nodded.
What else could I have done? I had to earn a living somehow. My parents would soon stop supporting me financially. They hadn’t said it out loud, but the message had been clear: sink or swim.
“Well, come on, then.” Mr. Farley took a deep breath and turned around, not waiting for me to second-guess my decision.
I took one last look at Grace.
“Good luck,” she said with a pitying smile.
“Thanks,” I whispered, grabbed my backpack, and followed Mr. Farley.
The entire morning had been a rollercoaster like this.
First, I’d wake up two hours before my alarm, lying in bed and tossing from one side to the other for thirty minutes before I finally got up, telling myself I couldn’t sleep, not because of the new job waiting for me, but because this day held something in store for me I never could’ve imagined.
I had this deep, comforting feeling in my gut that, even if some things went wrong, this day would still change things for the better.
It stayed with me from the moment I woke up, through the shower and breakfast, and even while I killed some time on Insta, already dressed and ready half an hour before Dad was due to pick me up.