Remy could never bear to be in only one place at a time. The present and the purely physical were too much to ask of her heart. She was crawling on the floor and reaching underneath store shelves, but only for a moment. After sparing just enough conscious thought to know what needed to be done, the conversations around her, announcements from overhead speakers and clattering of jars and cans on metal shelves faded away. She was no longer cleaning up spilled non-dairy creamer or looking for a package of coffee beans that had been kicked under the shelves because it was her job. She was in a place far away, cleaning up non-dairy creamer and reaching for coffee beans to do her part to build and support a home. She was counting the minutes left until going home to someone who was awaiting her return, not simply waiting to be somewhere other than at work. Infuriating as it could be, she didn’t mind the work nearly as much as that it often felt as if the work was for nothing. As much as her conscious thoughts insisted that any point on the horizon would do, the feelings beneath them only ever seemed able to look in one direction.
“What happened? Are you alright?“
Nothing caught Remy’s attention more quickly than realizing that there was work to be done, and nothing disturbed her as deeply as finding herself the focus of someone’s attention. Gripping the bag of coffee beans, she pulled it from beneath the shelf and slowly stood, wondering for a moment what had possessed her to find work where one stimulus never came without the other. Though there was no time for it, finding the answer to that question felt decidedly more urgent when she realized that she hadn’t managed to catch the attention of one person, but a small crowd. She quickly cursed her talent for tuning out the unpleasant as she heard the backlog that had built up while her mind was elsewhere.
“Manager to register three for an override—“
“—have a vendor at the loading dock that needs to be checked in—“
“How can you be out of blue cheese crumbles? I mean, how do you run out of—“
“—happened to all of the wax paper? The deli counter—“
“Look, I know you’re busy, but I can’t find the bird seed—“
“—nobody at the front desk, and I need an exchange or a refund or—“
“—really shouldn’t have a dog in here. What if it—”
“Jason’s on line two. He’s waiting for payroll—“
“—any more cheese samples?”
It felt as as if it should’ve been a moment of clarity as Remy stared blankly at the slowly increasing number of faces staring back at her. Momentarily paralyzed, she could only stand there holding a broom and the bag of coffee beans in the middle of the spilled creamer that she hadn’t yet had the chance to sweep up. She was in awe, not only at that so many were competing to demand her full attention in spite of each other and Remy herself, but also that they’d all somehow reached the conclusion that simply talking over each other was the best of their options. Despite the overwhelming pressure of the moment, she felt like a slate that had been wiped clean. It seemed like a perfect time to have a world-shattering epiphany that would lead to the solution to all of her problems and, in a perfect world, a new career. It was as if she was staring into the sky and watching sunlight finally beginning to shine through parting clouds—
“Do you have any more organic tomatoes?”
The moment didn’t last. With the latest arrival and interruption, it became clear to Remy what had just happened when her brain finally lurched into gear and began processing everything she’d just heard. Sensory overload was a problem for her that was just common enough for her to forget to be wary of it. On occasion, it was as if her mind just gave up on attempting to process more incoming information, especially when it flooded in so relentlessly. The moment she returned to her senses was always the worst, with everything coming into her conscious mind at once and threatening to overwhelm her again. In what felt like another lifetime, this would’ve been a moment of despair.
As the world around her came back into focus, however, she could only feel years of anger welling up once again. She took off her glasses, shut her eyes tight and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, struggling to simultaneously force the lid on her emotions and make enough sense of them to respond appropriately. The sudden quiet that followed made her briefly wonder if they’d finally had a moment of clarity of their own and realized what was wrong with what they’d done, but experience kept her hopes from getting too high and instead urged her to simply take advantage of the silence that surely wouldn’t last. Without opening her eyes, she dropped the coffee beans on the nearest shelf, then reached into a pocket on her apron and produced a small radio. She inhaled deeply and, letting go of the last of her patience along with the breath, let her mouth switch to autopilot.
“Check with the produce manager for tomatoes—blonde lady with a black apron. Cheese samples are going to be next to the deli counter, but give them a minute. They’re restocking. Jason’s going to have to wait. Yes, tell him I said it and that he knows why. That dog is a service animal, which is allowed by both law and company policy. Leave him alone. The customer service manager is helping another customer. Get in the line at the desk and she’ll be with you as soon as she can. We don’t sell bird seed. Wax paper is on the top shelf in the storeroom, near the corner. We have more blue cheese crumbles coming in soon, likely on the truck at our back door. Tell the driver to give me a few minutes. I’m on my way to the front.”
Remy felt the tension in the air growing as general unease shifted to stunned silence, but she was too drained to give it any attention. She quickly put her glasses back on and began heading toward the front of the store, but stopped short when she found herself facing Kate, one of the store owners and the source of the first voice she’d heard. She stared blankly for a moment, struggling to set aside growing panic long enough to remember what she’d heard in the midst of all of the overlapping voices. Judging by the expression she was getting in return, she’d correctly guessed the current mood and she doubted that what Kate was seeing was helping. Remy’s typical pristine appearance was nothing more than a memory; her long black ponytail and apron were both covered in white dust, her starched white blouse had been halfway pulled free of her black slacks, the knees caked with creamer. Her dusty glasses were crooked and just barely on, and her carefully managed mask of professional neutrality was too heavy with irritation and fatigue to not draw notice. The shock on Kate’s face was slowly fading, and Remy felt guilt setting in immediately when that shock gave way to concern. Anger would’ve been easier for her to deal with; there was a lifetime of experience to draw from. The silver lining was that the intensifying look of worry reminded her of what Kate had asked.
“I’m fine.”
Few days were what Remy considered easy, especially being someone who, in her own opinion, was most decidedly not cut out for her particular line of work. She was much better suited to having a set list of tasks that didn’t require her to actually talk to anyone, but ignoring a call for help was as unnatural for her as customer service. The irony wasn’t lost on her, but she’d long ago given up on making sense of her motivations. When the previous manager resigned and it became apparent that there were no new applicants for the role, Remy wasted no time in making what she thought to be an offer of temporary assistance. The job was easy enough, and she had some experience as she’d already been taking on additional responsibilities on occasion for the same reason—the previous manager found herself overwhelmed, and Remy volunteered long before considering the consequences. Being too eager had gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion in the past, but fears of being taken for granted felt more like an unpleasant dream from long ago than a clear and present danger. She’d come thousands of miles and lost count of the borders she’d crossed since then, and that fear was one of many things she’d managed to leave behind.
It took close to an hour to find a moment’s peace. The plan had been successful so far in that she’d managed to buy enough time for everyone to recover from the sudden flood of customers by picking up the slack herself and, now that things were quiet for the moment, she reluctantly admitted through her annoyance and exhaustion that it had been worth it. There was a general sense of ease in the store now, quite distinct from the expressions ranging from frustration to outright panic during the sudden influx of tourists. As Remy made her way into the back office and collapsed into a chair, there was a growing sense of satisfaction that she was pretending to not notice. As much as she told herself that she was simply fulfilling her duties and being responsible, that satisfaction was much of the real reason she took the job and the one thing that kept her striving for perfection. The feeling of actually working toward something rather than just working was irreplaceable and, in her experience, not easily found. After spending so long coming so far, she’d finally found a place where she was needed. It was almost like feeling welcome.
Remy took a moment to open a window and allow the early summer breeze to find its way inside. With the pine trees towering above in the distance and the faint scent of salt in the air, it wasn’t hard to see why so many were flocking to the area now that, for all intents and purposes, summer had begun. There was a certain serenity to be found in the small seaside town that, in all of her travels, she had yet to find elsewhere. Hearing some noticeably cheerful conversation outside of the office door was a reminder that it wasn’t just the tourists that appreciated the setting. There was a sense of warmth and cheer that seemed to be the natural state of things there, and something about the town made her heart lighter just for being there, even at the worst of times. Her darkest moments there were the result of demanding customers and staffing shortages, temporary problems that largely resolved themselves in time. She had no faith in her ability to attack her problems directly, but she considered her greatest strength to be enduring long enough to outlast them. That was one of the things she appreciated most about her new life: She’d finally found a place that allowed her to play to her strengths.
As she often did in quiet moments, she leaned out of the window and closed her eyes, allowing the warmth of the sun, the scent of salt water and pine trees and the sound of the ocean and laughter in the distance to overtake her thoughts. The only persistent troubles she had were thoughts of her time before this new life, and these moments of serenity allowed her to stay ahead of them. She appreciated every sensation she experienced, each one a reminder that she’d finally found what she’d spent her entire life merely hoping existed. There was only one piece missing, but she wasn’t one for complaining that things weren’t perfect. Life was better than it had ever been, and waking up to it every morning had become peaceful. This was enough.
Despite how tranquil the moment was, Remy was far from leaving her previous life behind her entirely. There were still old habits lying beneath the surface, so deeply ingrained that they had become indistinguishable from instinct. They remained ready to spring to life at a moment’s notice to ensure her survival. A sudden sense of dread crept into her conscious thoughts, cold tendrils snaking through her and wrapping themselves around the warmth in her heart and all of her peaceful thoughts. It was a dire warning that, though she was keeping ahead of reality, it was always lying in wait to ambush her if she dared to let down her guard. Her eyes opened and scanned her surroundings even as she consciously reminded herself to not allow the feeling to build itself into panic, fully aware that the things that triggered her in the past were most often truly innocuous in the present. After a moment’s observation, she realized what had caught her attention when she heard several of the cheerful voices she’d heard earlier drawing closer to the office door. Hearing the doorknob turning, she quickly turned away from the serenity beyond the window and, even as she worked to calm herself, her body went rigid as experience prepared her to endure once again.
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Kate stepped through the door, her head still turned behind her as she laughed and spoke to someone in the distance. Stepping through the doorway, she turned and flinched as she saw Remy standing behind her desk with a hard stare in her direction. She gave a quick, startled gasp, then rushed to compose herself.
“You know, I remember being in school and seeing pictures of paintings of Joan of Arc that looked like that. Ready to ride into battle and conquer a nation at a moment’s notice.”
Kate’s expression quickly returned to what seemed to be its default state, a cheerful smile and calming warm gaze. It wasn’t quick enough for Remy to not notice its absence, and guilt once again rose to the top of her jumbled pile of conflicting emotions. Struggling to remember what made people comfortable, she rushed for words to fill the silence.
“It…can’t be that similar.”
“I guess not. Your hair is longer.”
Remy sighed as she collapsed into her chair again, already exhausted from the interaction. She recognized Kate’s soft chuckle, an attempt to make it apparent that no offense had been taken. The best that Remy could offer in response was to pretend that she was no longer worrying about it. “Listen, about earlier, I—“
Kate cut across her, clearly prepared for the coming conversation. “Never mind about earlier. I saw what it looked like out there, and you handled it better than I would’ve.”
Remy couldn’t imagine that to be entirely true, but she recognized the attempt to ease her mind and quietly accepted it with as much grace as she could manage. “Any complaints?”
Still smiling, Kate took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Remy’s desk. “None you should be worrying yourself about, if that’s what you mean. You made enough of an impression for them to think twice about voicing any.”
Remy sighed as she pushed her glasses down and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did any of them—?”
“I didn’t ask, and neither should you. Stop fretting. It’s fine.”
“And Jason? Is he—“
“Shocked? Furious? Still waiting?” Kate laughed cheerfully, cutting through Remy’s mounting fear. “Yes, and he asked for all three. You were right, you know; he does know why. It’s no secret that the store is understaffed and you’re doing everything you can to hold things together. He knows what’s wrong with what he did, and it’s long since time he had someone hold him accountable.”
Remy couldn’t entirely make sense of what she was hearing. It was in Kate’s nature to be a calming presence, but her words seemed too specific to simply be an attempt to make her feel better. “Are you saying that Jason is the problem here?”
“Andy seems to think so.”
Any easing of tension that had occurred up to that point was erased with the mention of Kate’s husband, the store’s founder. It wasn’t at all surprising that the story had reached him, but Remy was hoping to have more time to come up with something resembling a rational explanation for her actions. Already drained from the conversation so far and the morning that led to it, her mind could only stumble as she raced to come up with one on the spot.
“I…I mean…did he say—?”
“The same thing I did, almost word for word.” Kate laughed again, the cheer ringing throughout the small office and lightening Remy’s mood in spite of her attempts to remain on alert. “Jason did what he always does when he doesn’t get exactly what he wants—he went running to daddy to make the mean girl apologize for giving him what was coming to him. Andy knows how hard you work, and he knows that you don’t need someone looming over your shoulder and making you work even harder for no reason. He also knows that Jason is at least part of the reason you have this job in the first place. We were lucky that you were willing to step up and fill the role, and we don’t need to find ourselves looking for someone to run this place again.” Seeing Remy’s expression and knowing that she was working her way toward a counterargument, Kate added, “People don’t quit jobs. They quit managers…or micromanagers, in this case. Half of business school is ethics. How Jason managed to graduate without absorbing any of it is beyond me.”
Seeing the sudden stern look on Kate’s face, Remy took a moment to absorb what she’d heard. It was definitely too much to simply be an attempt to ease tension, so she made a conscious effort to put aside her fears and take it at face value.
“So…Andy isn’t…?”
Seemingly to confirm that Remy had made the right decision, Kate chuckled again. “Upset? Remy, sweetie, haven’t you been listening? We’ve been waiting Jason’s whole life for someone like you to come along. You’re the first one to get it through his thick skull that he’s not always right and things won’t always go his way. We don’t have any intention of handing this business over to him until he learns that, and right now you’re our best hope. In fact, Andy was just saying that he still hasn’t given up on getting the two of you together.” Kate laughed again when she saw Remy flinch. “I know, I know…he’s not bringing much to the table right now other than money, and I know that’s at the bottom of the list of things you care about. Andy knows it, too; that’s actually one of the reasons he won’t give up on the idea. He wants Jason to find someone who sees him for what he really is…though, to be fair, he’s still got some growing up to do before that becomes more of an asset than a liability. You, on the other hand…even at your age, you have the maturity that he doesn’t. Andy is hoping that can keep his ego deflated long enough for him to pull his head out of his ass. Hopefully it will be at some point while we’re still alive to see it happen.”
Of all of the things Remy had worked to learn about how to deal with people, one in particular that she still struggled with was taking a compliment. She knew that Kate wasn’t embellishing; Remy had qualities that made her come across as being mature and responsible beyond her years and, at 26, that was particularly noteworthy to someone technically old enough to be her mother. In spite of the logic of the situation, however, Remy couldn’t bring herself to simply accept it for what it was. The warm feeling that came from being acknowledged was alien to her, and it was difficult to not see danger lurking in the shadow of anything unfamiliar. More than that, experience had long ago taught her to be wary of allowing dazzling smiles to distract her from sharp teeth. It was difficult for her to recognize genuine sentiment, largely because she had so little to compare to it. Spending time with Kate was always a learning experience. In addition to everything else, an entirely different concern pushed its way to the front of her thoughts.
“I—I mean, I don’t know if I…I’m not really the right one to…”
Kate smiled kindly, though her disappointment wasn’t entirely hidden. “I know, I know. Being someone’s mother long enough to make a decent husband out of him isn’t much of a selling point. Besides, I suspect that you already have plans to go in a different direction.”
Remy looked up, suddenly shaken out of her own thoughts. Kate’s smile had turned slightly mischievous as she looked away, clearly refusing to add any clarity to her statement. “Wh—what do you mean?”
Kate cut across her, pretending to not hear the question. “Oh, that reminds me! I came back here to let you know that you have some customers that need help.”
Remy’s mind rapidly shifted back to her work, though she hadn’t entirely pushed aside wondering how the conversation up to that point was relevant. “Jade isn’t at the customer service desk?”
Kate’s mischievous smile widened. “No, she’s up there.”
“Someone asked for me specifically?”
“Not exactly.” Seeing Remy’s confused expression and her mouth opening to speak, Kate quickly added, “Not yet, anyway.”
Realization dawning on her, Remy’s heart began hammering even as the rest of her body seemed to go limp. “Wh—what? She’s—?”
Kate laughed cheerfully, all pretense lost. “Here, yes. Just walked in.”
Remy’s eyes darted to the clock on the wall. It was just after ten, an odd time for this visit. The café down the road had been open for hours and should’ve been preparing for lunch. Desperately trying to make sense of the situation, her mouth opened several times before silently closing. She jumped in surprise when she felt a gentle touch on her hand, not realizing until that moment that it had at some point closed tightly into a fist. Looking up, she saw Kate smiling kindly at her.
“Just go and talk to her.”
Remy instinctively shook her head. “She’s just here shopping. That doesn’t mean that she’s here to talk to me.”
Kate scoffed in a way that was entirely too exaggerated to be taken seriously. “Right…and I’m sure that she won’t ask for help finding something that she buys every week. It’s bound to happen one of these days, I guess.”
Remy’s mind raced to counter the argument. “Maybe she’s forgetful. Besides, there’s a store full of people she could ask if she needs something.”
“Mmm hmm. And the fact that she never has trouble finding something until you start walking the floor?”
“Some people just go straight to management when they want something. It’s not unusual. Saves time.”
“I see. And the fact that your conversations are ten seconds of groceries and ten minutes of literally anything else?”
Remy could already feel her argument crumbling along with her resolve. “Some customers…like to talk. Happens all the time.”
Kate’s smile didn’t fade, but her expression turned to one of determination. She slowly stood, and Remy felt the hand on hers slide to her wrist and begin to gently pull her to her feet. “Well, in that case, it’s your duty as the face of this establishment to oblige. We want satisfied customers, after all.”
In spite of herself, Remy stood and allowed herself to be taken away, feeling as if she was being marched to an execution. She knew what Kate expected of her, and she couldn’t have been more certain that she wasn’t up to the task. Even if she didn’t fully understand her feelings, she was acutely aware of them. She knew what she wanted and, as badly as she wanted it, it seemed too much to ask. She had too many expectations to think it was fair to place them on someone who, as far as she was concerned, gave no indication of interest much less assuming that kind of responsibility. It just didn’t feel fair to volunteer someone else to be a port in her storm. She attempted to counterbalance this by having no expectations, but Kate seemed determined to have them in her place.
Had it been anyone else, Remy would’ve put more effort into resisting, if not genuine intent. Kate had a way of instilling confidence, though, even if Remy was convinced that such confidence was misplaced. It wasn’t in Kate’s nature to leave Remy wanting any more than it was in Remy’s nature to see her wants realized. More than the fact that Kate cared, however, Remy knew that when Kate wouldn’t take no for an answer, it was because she was right. Moments like this often made her wonder if this was how having a mother was supposed to feel. Remy stumbled forward, pulled by Kate and pushed by the blind hope that she once again knew better.