by Jason Zandri
“I see. Interesting.” Mark walked behind the main counter and took out application paperwork for her, then grabbed a pen and clipboard. “Did you go to college for business or marketing?”
“Oh, no sir.” She lowered her head slightly; removing her striking blue eyes from view by looking down at the paperwork she took from Mark. “I went to work right after high school. It was just what I’d planned, and it worked out for me, you know, going straight to work and all.”
“And are you working now?” Mark asked, leaning back against the counter.
Diane looked up straight at him and, in a quiet voice, responded, “No.”
She paused for a second and cleared her throat, but never took her eyes off him. “I was, up until about a year ago, as a retail associate and in-store product marketing associate. I’ll put that information down here on the application. It was at Barker’s Department Store, and now it’s King’s Department Store.” She set the paperwork down to take her jacket off. The room wasn’t overly warm for a winter temperature setting, but she was clearly heating up. “I worked there part-time while in high school, as the retail associate and then closer to full-time hours over the summers. Once I graduated, I got the product marketing associate position.”
Mark studied her for a moment, and then said, “So, you worked there as a store product marketing associate.”
Diane became attentive and answered, “Yes, until I left about a year ago, give or take, as I mentioned. It was a family decision.” Diane paused again.
“Well, not my family, as in my mother and father. Well, stepfather. My father and mother are divorced. He remarried and moved out of town.” She seemed to become aware of her nervous rambling and that she’d offered up more information than Mark had asked for, and settled herself then continued, “I was living there prior. After that, I moved out to live with my fiancé. So it was our decision for me to stop working.”
Mark held up his hand. “That’s fine; it’s a personal reason you’ve given.
You don’t need to divulge the details.” Diane smiled at the statement, and it appeared to Mark as if a weight had lifted from her. “So Diane, why don’t you start filling out the application and tell me what you’re looking for as far as weekly hours and shifts.”
Diane took the forms and the pen and stepped over to the counter nearest the cash register to begin filling them out. “Well, I was looking for something
full-time, but I don’t have a car right now, so really anything nearby will do.
This job’s only a mile from my house, so walking to work is easy for me regardless of the weather. I guess the nice thing is that minimum wage just went up twenty-five cents to $3.35 an hour, so that’s basically eight percent more than I would have been making.”
Mark watched her fill out the form with quick, neat strokes. She didn’t have to pull anything from her wallet to reference for the forms, like her driver’s license for that number, nor her Social Security card. “I need to find someone who can cover four to six shifts in a part-time capacity to start with,” Mark said, then walked over to the coolers and turned the fluorescent lighting out. “Depending on how things go with that person, how they work out, being dependable and working hard and all, I may add to the hours and increase the pay.”
A slight shift came over her behavior after the comments. By her reaction, Mark presumed it was a job she needed. “So, tell me, Diane,” Mark said, mentally preparing to take note of her responses, “you noticed the design plans in my hand when you came in. I’m planning to do something with the old bays there. I haven’t exactly decided what I might do. I could hire someone to do auto work, or I could sublease out all the space for someone who has more capacity to do it than I do. Or I could expand the store into some or all of the three bays. What do you think I should do?”
Diane stopped, set the pen down, and looked up at him intently with her piercing blue eyes. Mark took the time to look into them this time and felt uneasy as if he was suddenly the one being interviewed. “You want to know my thoughts?” she asked, still in her quiet voice.
“Why not?” Mark reclaimed his composure. “You’ve been in this town all this time. You probably know a lot of what young adults your age are looking for in and around the area. Yes; if it was your store, what would you do?”
Diane took a moment to collect her thoughts and stepped over to the glass door between the store and the bays. Matthew, who still stood listening from the doorway of the back office, backed up half a step so as to not be seen.
“I would keep the far bay with the heavy lift and highest ceiling and partition it off.” She seemed to say what she was thinking with confidence, but Mark could still sense that “girlish” uneasiness, or something else, coming from the young woman. “That way, if you have the capacity to do the work or find someone that does, you can use that area.” She tucked her head slightly, and then pointed to the glass that led into the middle of the
remaining area. “The other two bays I would convert for store space, but I would lease the area like a kiosk in the Mall.” She turned her head to look at him to make sure he understood. “You know. Like up at the Meriden Square, where they sublet the spaces for other small businesses.”
Her idea intrigued Mark. “What would you put in there?”
“Well, you’re subletting the space, so it could be almost anything. What I think what you want to have is something that compliments everything else that you already do here. Maybe someone who’s interested in a sandwich shop? You could have the coolers and the counter areas all ready for them to go, and they would lease the space and make the food. They sell at their counter, and when people want soda or juice for the sandwich, they come to you. That or you’re cross drawing. Someone who has to grab lunch, get their lottery tickets, cigarettes, and fuel on their break is going to come where they can do it all in one stop.”
Mark said nothing while he mulled her idea over, then he walked over to her partly-filled-out application and glanced at it. RATE OF PAY—any.
SHIFTS DESIRED (if applicable)—any. DATE AVAILABLE TO START—
any.
“You didn’t like the ideas?” Diane asked with a detectable level of concern in her voice.
“Oh, no,” Mark said quickly, looking up from the paperwork. “They’re quite progressive. I certainly hadn’t thought about subleasing chunks of space inside the store. That’s a creative way to look at it because I don’t need to do the work myself, using your example, handling the food and the prep. That, and I don’t have to hire another hand that may be interested in ‘just’ working.
With them leasing the space, it is a business of theirs to make or break. The more I think on your ideas, the more I like them.”
Diane smiled widely. “No one’s ever really expressed an interest in one of my ideas,” she said in an elevated tone, backed by a rush of evident excitement on her face. She reached over and hugged him, but then immediately tensed up. Mark also stiffened, as the sudden forwardness surprised him. She let go almost at once and jerked herself back, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Oh, I’m so sorry for that.” Diane lowered her head and stepped away.
Mark moved forward, feeling somewhat awkward, and reached his hands out clumsily and said, “Look, no harm done. You got a little caught up in the moment and excited.” Mark backed away just slightly. “When can you start?”
“I’ve got the job?”
“I don’t see why not. I have to hire someone, and while I’m sure I can find another worker, I guarantee they won’t be this excited and enthusiastic.”
Mark looked up into the security mirror and saw Matthew peering around the corner.
“Oh!” Diane called out and put her hands over her mouth. “I can start right away, Mr. Sanford.”
“Let’s see.” He looked back at her application. “You were born in 1957, so that makes you twenty-four. Yeah, ‘Mr. Sanford’ is my father, and he’s down in Florida. So ‘Mark’ will be fine.”
Diane didn’t respond but continued to wear a huge smile on her face.
“I’m not completely sure what hours I’m going to need you, especially at first, Miss Wakeford, but I’ll try to keep you at a total of thirty per week.
More if the business can sustain and justify it.”
“Could you call me Diane?” she asked as tears welled up. “I would be uncomfortable calling you ‘Mark’ if you’re going to call me Miss Wakeford.”
“Sure, I suppose that’s fair. Look, I’m going to collect my son and lock up. Can I give you a ride home?”
Diane turned and looked out of the window. The snow had picked up a little. “If it’s not going to put you out of the way. Otherwise, I would appreciate that.”
Matthew came around the corner the remainder of the way with his books and his father’s jacket. “I locked up the rear door. Here,” he said and handed the winter coat to his father.
“Matthew.” Mark took the jacket and pulled his keys out. “This is Diane Wakeford; she’s going to start working here next week.”
Matthew looked up into her eyes and stared at her while extending his hand. He squeezed out an almost whispered “hello” to her. While she was twelve years older than him, she stood barely five feet tall, and Matthew wasn’t much shorter than her at fifty-four inches.
Diane blushed a little at Matthew’s apparent attraction and reaction then smiled and responded “hi,” which came out a bit forcefully.
“I’m sorry for staring,” Matthew said, somewhat embarrassed, while his father turned the remaining lights off. “I could swear I’ve seen you before.”
“My sister is your age and in fifth grade over at Pond Hill; Melissa Bancroft. Same mother, different fathers.”
“Ah,” Matthew said, then looked over at his father.
Mark fumbled around some papers behind the counter so he could listen in a little and get a better understanding of his new employee’s demeanor, as well as to give his son the chance to talk to her a little.
“Are you friends with her?” Diane asked. Matthew just continued to stare at her. “Missy. My sister. I know school just restarted with the New Year and all. I’m not exactly sure how long you’ve been over at Pond Hill, but we live down Ward Street, right near the north end of East Street, so I was wondering.”
“I’ve seen her,” Matthew said with his voice breaking an octave higher than it normally would. “I tried to introduce myself to her, but she’s a little aggressive for a girl.”
Diane laughed aloud. “That’s Missy. She’s everything I’m not. Brave.
Fearless. Indifferent to whether everyone or no one likes her. She’ll never admit it, but she likes a challenge. If you engage her, you’ll get her attention.
Don’t walk up and introduce yourself. I know you haven’t formally met her, but if you walk up and just talk to her like you’ve known her a while, she’ll respond.” Matthew nodded and Diane leaned in to whisper in his ear. “She’s starting to get interested in boys, and you’re handsome. … You’ll catch her interest before she even knows what hit her.”
Matthew’s smile grew wide as Diane drew back and looked at the expression on his face. “I see my sister already has your interest.”
Matthew slunk backward, and blood rushed to his face.
Mark came around the counter with his things and the keys to the car.
“Are we all set to get going?”
“I am, Mr. … Mark. Thank you again for the opportunity.”
“I’m looking forward to having you on board,” Mark responded, then moved past the two of them for the door. Both of them followed him out, and he locked up the store for the evening.
CHAPTER THREE
At recess, Matthew walked along the side wall of the school, kicking the slushy snow on the ground and dragging his feet a little. With the small spike of the late January temperatures into the forties, the teachers had decided to take the fourth and fifth graders out for their short break. He looked across at a group of boys swapping baseball cards a few feet ahead of him to see Melissa Bancroft and a couple of other girls talking to one another.
Since speaking with her older sister in his father’s store a couple of weeks prior, he hadn’t had a good enough reason to engage her in a conversation.
He’d tried a couple of times—once in the lunch line then once on the bus going home, but she always seemed aloof and indifferent to his efforts.
She’s pretty and all, Matthew thought, but I don’t even know what else I could say to her to try to talk to her and, to be honest, the whole, “chase me”
thing is getting under my skin.
Matthew integrated himself with the boys looking at the trading cards, but he casually looked past them at Melissa.
***
Melissa smiled as her friend Carrie Hoag tugged on her arm. “See! He did it again, Melissa.” Carrie let Melissa’s arm go, took off her hat, and tucked the brown strands back up. “He stands there and tries to look busy doing something else, but it’s always in a direct line to see you. I told you he likes you.”
Melissa smiled and moved a falling piece of her black hair away from her dark brown eyes. “He’s friendly. We’ve talked a little. He lives in the neighborhood. Well, over on the far south side of it, anyhow. My half-sister works for his father.”
“Oh my God, have you seen his father?” Alecia Parker squealed.
“He’s almost as cute at Matthew.”
“I know,” Melissa responded, almost embarrassed, and giggling softly. “I think Diane has a crush on him.”
“On her boss? That’s totally—” Carrie began before Alecia cut her off.
“RAD!” Alecia said excitedly. “Come on! He’s gorgeous!”
“Matthew or his Dad?” Melissa asked, then giggled.
“Well, they both are. Obviously, Matthew is too young for Diane,”
Alecia replied, then turned her head to look a little more carefully at Matthew.
Partly being funny and partly to make a point, Melissa responded,
“Well, technically speaking, he’s not. Right now the age difference doesn’t work but when he’s older it would. I mean my sister is twenty-four, and when I asked Matthew when he would be twelve he said ‘May,’ so that’s twelve years’ difference.” Melissa strolled forward, and her friends followed. “My sister said that Mr. Sanford …”
“Mark. She calls him Mark all the time,” Alecia said with a big smile.
“Right …” Melissa nodded. “Diane said that Mr. Sanford’s birthday was coming up in February. She’d overheard Matthew talking about it to him at the store. So it’s a twelve-year difference there too. My stepfather is ten years older than my mother. It’s almost the same.”
“That would mean that when Marrrky was in fifth or sixth grade, your sister was just born,” Carrie said in a playful and teasing tone as she too turned her more of her attention towards Matthew.
“I don’t mind a bit of playful talk,” Melissa said in a quieter voice,
“but I think Mr. Sanford deserves a little respect. I mean, we can crush on him all day,” she said as her smile widened, “but he only gave Diane permission to call him ‘Mark.’”
Carrie let out a little squeal and pushed lightly into the other two girls as if she was swooning.
Melissa looked over at Matthew, then lifted her hand to wave to him, and he waved back at her. He waved back to me without looking around. At least he has some confidence, she thought. She opened her mouth as he stepped away from the group he was with and walked towards the three of them.
“He’s coming this way,” Carrie said to Alecia and grabbed her playfully by the shoulders.
“Oh my God, Missy, what are you going to say?” Alecia asked.
“How can I know? He hasn’t said a word to me yet today. I didn’t sit near him on the bus.” Melissa tried to steady herself, but her heart rate climbed; something she’d never experienced with a boy before, and it bothered her a little. Easy, she thought.
Since when are you nervous talking to
people? She liked the idea that she was strong and, in her mind, as self-supporting and confident as she could be for her age. She didn’t want to fall into the same trap her mother did and the recent relationship that had failed with her older sister. Seeing all of that around the house made her tough, but meeting Matthew had softened her thoughts in ways that surprised her, and the way she was suddenly feeling caught her off guard.
“Hi Melissa, Carrie, Alecia,” Matthew said as he walked up. He held Melissa’s gaze and said, “I was wondering if you were busy after school.”
The girls giggled and Melissa turned away from them. “Well, I have a lot of homework.”
“Me too. I thought we might work on the Social Studies review together if that would interest you.”
Melissa smiled at the thought of being asked, and he had done it so directly. He didn’t seem nervous like the other boys who talked to her. At the same time, she realized she was far less nervous about talking to him than over the past few days of getting to know him better. “Well, I like the idea, but I’m not allowed out with boys. Even for school work,” Melissa said with a frown. “That’s my dad’s rule.”
Without a pause, Matthew said, “Is he home after school? Maybe if I came over and asked him? That way he knows it was an honest interest in homework.” Matthew smiled. “And maybe to listen to a little music.”
Melissa grinned ear to ear. No one had ever asked her to sit and listen to music together. However, the smile washed away quickly. “My stepdad works until eleven, so he’s not even home to ask.”
“Could I ask your mom? Is she home? I don’t mind staying there at your house.”
“She works until seven. I’m sure she’d have a conniption if I had a boy over. I’m supposed to call her when I get in now that Diane is working for your dad, and I’m home by myself until then,” Melissa said, waving her friends off when they giggled at the two of them. She stepped away and tugged Matthew by the arm to follow her. Melissa smiled, continuing to hold onto his arm for a moment after the tug to move him along.