Chapter 26 Hazel
HAZEL
Halloween hasn’t even happened yet, and you have Christmas candy out?” Gloria asks, hugging a jar of gingerbread people gummies. “Of all the people to play that game, Emma, I didn’t think it’d be you.”
Emma snorts as she sets a box on the counter. “The making-money game? Because I’m very much here to play that. That’s literally how this store keeps its lights on. Here’s the rest of the white-chocolate snowballs, Hazel.”
“Snowballs? This is all too soon, darling, but hey, inventory management is above my pay grade.” Gloria slices the box open and scoops a few of the chocolates into her bowl. We each try one. “Okay, those are delightful! I take it back. Give me all the holiday candy!”
“The chocolate turkeys are over there if you want something more relevant.” Emma nods to the corner where she’s also stocked maple candies. “And I can’t take credit. It was Hazel’s idea.”
Chocolate melts on my tongue as I wipe down the checkout screen. “Having the holiday candy out doesn’t put off the customers,” I say. “When you put out St. Patrick’s Day inventory at Valentine’s Day, there was a huge bump in heart candy and chocolate sales.”
“I accidentally ordered them too early,” Emma says, grimacing. “Figured we might as well try to move it.”
“Oh yeah, I remember that,” Gloria says. “I thought you were confused about which month it was.”
“What it does is put the more immediate holiday front and center and make people want to enjoy it more,” I explain. “Trends across the industry also indicate that people are trying to stretch out the collective holidays for as long as possible. Have you heard of Summerween?”
“Summerwhatnow?” Gloria asks.
“A lot of people now celebrate Halloween in the summer,” I explain. “We should definitely order more of those”—I point to the jar of candy bones—“in July.”
“You’ve really been paying attention when ringing up customers,” Emma says.
I spin my laptop around. “Actually, it’s all in the data.”
Emma focuses on my screen. “Is that… did you make a presentation?”
“It’s still rough. I analyzed the point-of-sale data and created a few reports.” I go to the next slide. “I hope that’s okay. I have some ideas.”
“Go on,” Emma says, removing a notepad from the counter’s shelf. She and Gloria lean in.
I bring up the next slide. “Have you ever considered a loyalty program?” I ask.
“You have a lot of repeat customers. They come by every two weeks, usually between five and seven. A punch card or rewards app is a great way to give back to those customers. Maybe when they get all ten stamped, they get a free mixed bag of candy. It’d be a good way to promote new-to-them inventory. ”
Emma writes this down.
On the next slide, I have my graphs and numbers neatly arranged so it’s easy to understand the story I’m trying to tell. “In the week before big holidays—Lunar New Year, Valentine’s Day, Fourth of July, New Year’s—you have customers buying hundreds of dollars’ worth of candy.”
“People love to drop by to stock up on candy for their parties,” Emma says.
“Have you considered putting together themed candy boxes or charcuterie boards for parties?” I ask.
“Candy charcuterie?” Gloria asks, intrigued.
I nod. “I think they’d be cute.”
Gloria snickers. “Candy char-cute-erie.”
I smile as Emma writes that down, too.
“If you did it, that’d make it easier for customers,” I go on. “You could also take custom orders. And because your store has candy from all over the world, you could put together special boxes. Like a Tray of Togetherness for Lunar New Year with lucky sweets, chocolate coins, dried fruits, nuts.”
“Yes! My family always has those. How did I not think of that?” Emma says.
“All the numbers from this”—Gloria places her hand on the laptop in its stand—“told you that?” she says, pointing to my screen.
“The numbers have stories to tell if you listen,” I say.
“Well, isn’t that romantic?” Gloria says. “But how do you know if they’re saying something bad or good?”
“It’s less about them being bad or good and more that I figure out how to interpret them,” I say.
“How do these interpretations turn out?” Emma asks.
“Yeah,” Gloria says. “Once you figure something out with the numbers, did you make your company millions of dollars?”
“There were times I saved them millions of dollars, yes. My forecasts weren’t always accurate, though. Sometimes I’d have misleading results when I didn’t have enough data to paint a full picture. Or there would be extreme data points that skewed my readings…” I trail off.
I play back my words. Readings. Forecasts. Interpretations.
You’re like a data fortune teller, Logan had said.
I decipher data just like the fortune tellers have decoded our cards, tea leaves, palms. We both take numbers and fortunes and find the stories in them.
Sometimes, though, the stories had plot twists. Past data isn’t a perfect predictor of the future. Though it sometimes does, history doesn’t always repeat itself.
Which means I also know that just like with data, there is no insight without interpretation. Action still needs to be taken. Choices must be made. The steps Logan and I took were based on how we deciphered our fortunes.
Logan bought the lottery ticket. We drove, not flew. I said yes to an unexpected manager interview.
Gloria shrugs. “Close enough.”
“This is amazing, but it’s above and beyond,” Emma says. “Don’t feel like you have to do extra work. Seriously. You’re valuable as you are, and this job is yours for as long as you need.”
“How’s the job search been going?” Gloria asks, leaning against the counter.
“It’s been going well. Weirdly well,” I say, realizing I haven’t thought to update them.
“Weird?” Gloria asks. “What’s weird?”
“The interviews?” Emma asks.
“I mean in general,” I say, touched by their concern. “Things don’t go so smoothly for me. Or better than expected. I was offered a manager role.”
The news came in this morning. Gloria and Emma are the first I’ve told in person.
“That’s incredible!” Emma says as Gloria shouts, “Whoopee!” and swings her arms into the air. I must be making a face because her arms flop down by her side. “Darling, does this not make you happy?”
“No. I mean, yes? It’s great,” I say. Because it is. It’s a lot more money, which is exactly what I need. I’m moving up. Getting a more impressive title. I could pay for the house. Isn’t that what I’ve worked for? Isn’t that the dream?
But I’ve had a lot of dreams, haven’t I?
I’ve dreamed of a normal life. Of a father who I didn’t have to worry about stealing from me instead of giving me birthday money.
Of an older brother who protected me instead of hurting me.
Of a lake house with a happy family inside instead of people who care more about themselves than each other.
Not all dreams come true.
“It’s really great,” I say too emphatically.
“What’s your hesitation?” Emma asks. “Do you not want this job?”
Take the job, save the house.
Don’t take the job, lose the house.
“I don’t…” I stiffen. “No.”
“You don’t know?” Gloria asks.
“No. Yes,” I say, backtracking. “No. I don’t know.”
I’ve never had a chance to get to know what I want. I’ve always been too busy doing what I needed to do.
What’s the data telling me? I could put together an entire spreadsheet with all the times Dad and Jerry have dug themselves into a hole and lied to me about it, and with the ways I’ve sacrificed myself to help them out of it.
“What’s your gut telling you?” Emma asks.
My gut?
I’m silent for too long, and they both lose interest and get back to work. Emma busies herself with a Post-it while Gloria fills up her candy bowl.
But then Emma walks over to the front door, tapes the Post-it onto the glass, and flips the “Open” sign around. Gloria waves me over to join her at the sitting area in the front of the store. “Come. Sit.” They’re not getting back to work. They’re temporarily closing the store. For me.
Emma speaks first. “Hazel, Gloria and I have gotten the sense that it’s hard for you to open up—”
“Trust people,” Gloria says around a mouthful of candy, offering me the bowl. “You’ve always been suspicious. Of others. You aren’t suspicious. Well, you kind of are with how secretive you—”
“Thanks, Glo. You know what, I got this,” Emma says, patting her knee. She turns to me. “Hazel, we would never want to pressure you into telling us anything or doing anything you’re uncomfortable with, but we want you to know that you can always talk to us. We might just be your coworkers—”
“I thought we agreed on candy crew,” Gloria interjects.
Emma gives Gloria a look. “We might just be your candy crew, but we’d also like to be your friends.”
Friends. I don’t even know how to have friends. Or how to be a friend.
Gloria nods quickly. “Thanks to candy, we were all brought together. That’s got to mean something. You don’t have to talk to us now if you don’t want, but we’re here whenever you do.”
“I—I…”
Emma and Gloria each take one of my hands in theirs. I draw in a tight breath. They’ve made me feel nothing but accepted.
“My mom died when I was really young,” I say, starting slowly. “And from that point forward, I think I always viewed myself as needing to replace her in my family. To be the person who cared for everybody. Who fixed all their problems. Who put them above herself, at all costs.”
“Oh, Hazel,” Gloria whispers.
“I’m starting to realize that a lot of decisions I’ve made in my life maybe gave people—my family—the ability not to have to worry about their decisions. And maybe that scares me because if I’m not needed, then who am I?”
It’s overwhelming to say this out loud. I don’t try to numb it away. Instead, I let myself feel the weight of these words.
“Darling, you’ve got a lifetime to figure that out,” Gloria says gently. “But also, what you’ve said, it isn’t fully true. You are needed… by you. You’ve spent all these years looking out for others, but now it’s time for you to look out for yourself.”