Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Trina
At ten minutes to five, I head to my new job. I’m dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, which seemed appropriate for stocking shelves. Frank didn’t mention a uniform, but I noticed the checkout girl wearing a red polo shirt with the store logo so it’s possible I’ll get one of those.
My shift ends at ten tonight, but only because I’m in training. When that’s over, I’ll have to do a full eight-hour shift. I can’t imagine stocking shelves for eight hours. It’s not a very big store. It’s one of those small, neighborhood grocery stores where locals go to pick up necessities like a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk.
“Welcome,” Frank says as I come into the store, a big smile on his chubby face. “Ready to work?”
“Yeah.” I look down at my clothes. “I wasn’t sure what to wear.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve got a smock in the back.”
“A smock?” I say, images of old ladies with hairnets coming to mind. People my age don’t wear smocks, and definitely not people with fashion degrees. “Could I maybe skip the smock?” I glance at the cashier, who looks close to my age. “Or maybe I could wear one of those polo shirts, like she has on.”
Frank shakes his head. “Those are only for cashiers. Stock people wear a smock.” He smiles. “You never know when a can of tomatoes might explode. You don’t want it ruining your clothes.”
Great. I have to wear a smock and deal with exploding cans of tomatoes. Why would they explode? How is that even possible? They’re sealed.
“Follow me,” Frank says, taking off through the store.
I glance at the checkout girl and see her watching me. I smile at her and she rolls her eyes, then looks away. What’s with the eye roll? Was that about me, or was she thinking of something that made her do that?
“Trina!” Frank’s loud voice gets my attention and I hurry to catch up to him.
“Sorry,” I say as he leads me to the break room. “I spent today moving into my apartment. I’m a little tired.”
“You moved in today?” he asks, turning back to me.
“Yeah. I don’t have much, but it was still exhausting. Anyway, it’s done now. Everything’s put away.”
It’s really not. My stuff’s just in piles on my floor. The piles are organized, but they’re still just sitting there on the floor, which is kind of depressing. I might have to forget my rule about not taking furniture from the street and snatch a dresser if I find one.
“You should’ve told me that last night,” Frank says. “I could’ve had you start tomorrow.”
“I’d rather start now. I really need the money.”
“Then let’s get you started.” He opens a cabinet and pulls out the dreaded smock. The back of it is solid red and the front is red-and-white plaid with two big pockets. It’s hideous, even worse than what the lunch ladies wore at my high school.
“Here.” Frank hands it to me. “Try it on.”
I reluctantly pull the smock over my head. It’s really wide and hangs down to just above my knees.
Frank stands back, assessing me in the smock. “Looks a little big.”
“Do you have another size?”
“Unfortunately, no. That one belonged to Jared. He was quite a bit bigger than you.”
I’m wearing a men’s smock? A used men’s smock?
“Um, do you think you could order a new one? A smaller one?”
“Maybe, but I need to make sure you’re sticking around before I do. We run a tight ship here. I can’t be spending money willy-nilly.” He plants his hands on his waist and smiles. “I’m sure you can make it work. And the extra fabric will protect your clothes from all those dusty cans.” He laughs, but I don’t find it funny. I look ridiculous. Good thing I don’t know anybody around here.
As Frank searches for something in a drawer, I notice the time clock on the wall. “Shouldn’t I be clocked in?”
Frank looks up from the drawer. “Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Your card is already there. Go ahead and punch in. I need to run to my office.”
I take my card from the slot, looking over the names on the other cards. Someone named Rose is at the top. I wonder if that’s the eye-rolling cashier. That couldn’t have been about me. She doesn’t even know me.
After I punch in, I go over to the mirror behind the door and try to make the smock look a little less horrible. There are red fabric ties near the waist so I use them to cinch the smock closer to my body and secure it in place. It’s not great, but it’s better than it was before.
“Trina!” Frank calls out. “Come down to the storeroom.”
The storeroom is in the very back of the building. It’s dark and dusty, like a storeroom in a creepy horror movie. When I saw it last night, I commented that it needed more light, but I don’t think Frank heard me.
“I’m here,” I say as I go into the storeroom. It seems brighter today. Maybe my depressed mood was making it seem darker than it actually was.
Frank appears from behind a shelf. “What do you think? I changed out some of the light bulbs.”
“It’s a lot better.”
He walks over to me and points to my smock. “Looks nice. I like what you did with it.”
“Thanks.” I laugh a little. “I went to fashion school. I can make most anything look better.”
“Fashion school, huh?” He cocks his head to the side. “So why are you working here ?”
“I lost my job. I needed something until I find something—” I almost say ‘better’ but then stop myself, not wanting to insult Frank and his store.
“So you won’t be staying long. Good thing I didn’t order you a new smock.” He winks at me, which reminds me of my new neighbor, but when he did it, it was sexy. When Frank did it, I felt like my grandpa was winking at me.
Frank brings a rolling cart over to me. “You’ll use this to take things to the store. When you see something’s getting low, you come back here, fill up the cart, and restock the shelves.”
“Don’t you have software that tells you what needs to be stocked?”
He shakes his head. “We’re not fancy like that. We’re small enough we don’t need a computer telling us what to do. I take inventory daily and order what I need. It’s worked for seventy years. I don’t see a need to change it.”
“Okay, well, should I get started?”
“I need to go over a few more things.”
He takes me through the storeroom, showing me where everything is, then we go into the coolers and the freezer. Next, he takes me out to the store and explains how things should be positioned on the shelves.
“Any questions?” he says when we’re done.
“I don’t think so.”
“Great! Then go grab your cart and get started.” He takes off, leaving me standing in front of a row of canned fruit.
“Nice smock,” I hear someone say.
I look up and see the girl at the register staring at me, a smirk on her face. I don’t know what her deal is, but she seems very unhappy. Maybe she just got dumped by her boyfriend.
There’s nobody in the checkout line so I walk over there.
“Hi. I’m Trina,” I say with a smile.
“I know. I’m not deaf. I heard Frank say your name.”
“And you’re…” I wait for her to tell me her name, but she doesn’t. I search for a name tag, but there isn’t one. Frank seems like someone who would insist on name tags. “Is it Rose?” I ask, remembering the time card.
“I’m trying to work,” she says, grabbing a spray bottle and a rag. “Go bother someone else.” She sprays the conveyor belt with the cleaner and wipes it with the rag.
“Did I do something?” I ask. “You seem kind of… hostile.”
She rolls her eyes and laughs.
I guess we won’t be friends. I return to the shelf of canned fruit and make note of what needs to be restocked. I can’t believe this is their system. How could they not use a computer to track inventory?
“Could you hand me the pineapple?” someone says.
I look over and see the guy who was at my neighbor’s apartment this morning. The one with the big muscles. What was his name? I can’t remember. Why am I having so much trouble with names?
“Or I can just get it myself,” the guy says, smiling as he reaches in front of me.
“Sorry.” I step back. “I’m new here. I’m still getting used to it.”
“No problem.” He turns to me, holding the can of pineapple. “Weren’t you at Scott’s place this morning?”
“Who?”
“Scott. The guy who lives next to you. You’re the girl living in Jenna’s apartment, right?”
“Um, yeah. That’s me. Trina. And you’re… sorry, I forgot your name.”
“Cole. I live right above you. Second floor.”
“So your place is as small as mine. I’m guessing you get used to it?”
“Actually, I have a one bedroom. It’s a pretty big place.”
How does he live right above me and have a one bedroom? I thought every floor was laid out the same.
He holds up the can of pineapple. “I should get going. Got some prep work to do before the party. You’re coming, right?”
“No. I wasn’t invited, which is fine because I’ll be here working.”
“Stop by when you’re done. And you don’t need an invite. We let pretty much anyone in the building come, especially hot girls.” He smiles and I feel my face getting warm. Does he really think I’m hot? He’s gotta be joking. I’m wearing a red plaid smock. No one would look hot in this.
“Well, enjoy the pineapple,” I say, not able to come up with a better response.
He laughs. “I will. And hey, I’m serious about stopping by. The party will go all night. Come and have a drink when you get off work.”
I smile and nod, but there’s no way I’m going to that party. When I’m done here, I’m going straight to bed. Cole better have been exaggerating when he said the party goes all night. If it does, I’ll be having a talk with the landlord.
When Cole goes over to Rose, or whatever her name is, to pay for his pineapple, she smiles. I wasn’t sure she was capable of smiling, but apparently she can do it when Cole shows up in her lane.
As the hours roll by, I go back and forth from the store to the storeroom, restocking items as they get low. It’s really easy, and good exercise. I bet I’ve walked a couple of miles already. The store got busy around six and has continued that way, with a steady stream of customers coming in.
Rose left at seven and was replaced by Steve, an aspiring novelist in his forties who left the corporate world to pursue his dream. Those were his words, not mine. He said he’s working here part time until he finishes his novel and finds someone to publish it.
It’s almost ten now, which means my shift is almost over. I’m really tired. I’m looking forward to going home and laying down on my bed.
My bed! I forgot to get the air mattress from Sara! I have nothing to sleep on. Checking my phone, I see a missed call and two texts from Sara, asking if I still want the mattress. Maybe I could get it after work. She’s not close by, so it’ll take a while to get there, but I really need that mattress. I text her and ask if I can come over. She texts back that she’s out with friends and won’t be home for a few hours. I guess I’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight.
“It’s over here!” a girl yells. A skinny brunette wearing a short red dress and three-inch heels comes up beside me.
I’m in front of the dairy case, restocking the sour cream, which is a popular item on Saturday night. I’ve restocked it twice.
The girl opens the dairy case and grabs a can of whipped cream. “There’s only one left.”
“Maybe there’s more in back,” a guy says, coming up beside her.
I look over and see it’s him. The Jerk in Apartment 1B.