by Amy Clipston
“Oh, and the deliveryman is here with the ice cream.”
A much more important piece of news. A multitude of ice cream flavors kept folks coming back to the deli for a single serving on a cone, a dish of their favorite rocky road, or a gallon of chocolate fudge. Plus all the cartons they toted in their baskets to the registers to take home. Ice cream was one of their biggest sellers in the summer.
Esther stifled a sigh. “Tell him to start bringing in the order. I’ll be right there to sign for it.” To count boxes and compare them to the order before she signed. Lucy had taught her well.
“Mrs. Lowell is on the line. She wants to know if it’s too late to put in an order for two dozen sandwiches for a meeting tonight.” Cara was less excited about using the walkie-talkie than her sister Rachel. She only spoke on it when absolutely necessary. Her voice squeaked, but then it often squeaked. She was always excited and always happy. “She wants potato salad, chips, pickles, and cookies too.”
Esther Marie keyed the radio a third time. “It’s not t-t-t-oo late. T-T-T-take down exactly what she wants, especially on the s-s-s-s-andwich-ch-ches. Put the order on the incoming p-p-p-eg at the d-d-d-eli. As s-s-s-soon as I get done with the ice cr-cr-r-eam order—”
“Mrs. Kowalski is upset about a box of cereal she bought yesterday.” Rachel skidded to a stop a few inches from Esther Marie. “She says it’s only half full. She wants to talk to Lucy.”
Customers came first, then deliverymen. The sandwiches weren’t needed until the end of the day. Prioritizing, that’s what Fergie called it. A regular complainer, Mrs. Kowalski frequently wanted her money back for something. Fergie said the customer was always right. “Where is sh-sh-sh-he?”
“Fuming by the front door.”
Wiping her hands on the towel she had tucked in her apron, Esther Marie followed the other woman through the bulk aisle.
“Uh-oh.” A funny look on her pretty face, Rachel glanced back and halted. Esther Marie nearly collided with her. The other woman hunched her shoulders. “Does he know who he’s dealing with?”
Uh-oh was right. Jasper stood by the door talking to Mrs. Kowalski. Her pudgy cheeks were bright red, and her index finger jabbed precariously close to Jasper’s smooth-shaven face. Esther Marie slipped around Rachel and raced to intercede.
“The cereal boxes are sealed.” Despite Jasper’s flat tone, a pulse throbbed in his jaw. “It says on the box that the contents settle.”
“I paid good money for a full box of cereal.” Her double chins quivering, Mrs. Kowalski shook the offending box of corn flakes so vigorously they likely could be used as panko for breading chicken or fish now. “I don’t know how you did it, but you siphoned cereal out and you’re selling it on the bulk aisle. You’re cheating me. I want my money back.”
“W-w-w-we c-c-c-an do that.” Esther Marie reached for the box. “You c-c-c-ould buy on the b-b-b-ulk aisle s-s-s-o you can see what you’re get-t-t-ting.”
Jasper tugged the box from her hand. “Why would we give her the money back? We didn’t cheat from her. We didn’t steal.”
“C-c-c-c-ustomer is always r-r-r-right-t-t.” No time to breathe. No time to imagine the words in her head. Esther Marie stood between a furious woman and an implacable man. Mother said men were always right. They should be respected and their decisions were final. Especially a man like Jasper. Someday Fergie’s oldest son would own the store. But not today. “Fergie s-s-s-says hap-p-p-p-p-y cust-t-t-tomers come b-b-b-b-back.”
Heat toasted her body head to toe. Blood pounded in her ears. Gott? She never stuttered in her prayers. She longed for healing, but it never came. “I-t-t-t’-s gut b-b-b-b-usi-n-n-n-ness.”
“Fergie’s right.” Mrs. Kowalski uttered a curse word. She didn’t seem to notice how Jasper’s body stiffened and blotches of red consumed his neck and fair-skinned cheeks. “And he knows better than to call me a liar.”
“No one called you a liar.” Jasper looked truly perplexed. “Nor do Plain people lie.”
Customers stopped to stare. Even Cara had given up any semblance of checking grocery items on the register.
“It’s F-F-F-Fergie’s p-p-p-p-p . . .” The word wouldn’t come out. Esther Marie struggled for breath. Please, Gott, please. “M-M-M-oney b-b-b—”
“Money-back guarantee.” The wattle under her arm swinging beyond her sleeveless blouse, Mrs. Kowalski stabbed at the air in triumph. Her bosom heaved, making her pearl necklace rise and fall. “It’s store policy.”
“I’m in charge of the store now.” The splotches on his face darkened. Jasper paused and frowned. “You’re welcome to exchange the box for another one of the same price. That is a good compromise, isn’t it?”
“It is not! Give me my box of cereal.” Mrs. Kowalski swiped it from his hand. She whirled and shoved open the door. At the last second she whirled and drilled them with fiery indignation. “You won’t see me spending my husband’s hard-earned money in this store anymore.”
Chins high in the air, she flounced out, and the door shut behind her.
Disbelief written across his deeply tanned face, Jasper scratched his nose with callused, stubby fingers. “What was she so mad about?”
Chapter 4
All’s well that ends well. The door swung shut. Quiet prevailed for a few seconds. Sweet, soothing quiet. Jasper heaved a breath. His first crisis in Father’s absence had ended peacefully. Mrs. Kowalski might be peeved now, but after she thought it over, she would see that Jasper had offered a good solution.
Or had he?
Esther Marie’s expression said otherwise. An exchange of equal value for a box of cereal seemed a fair solution for everyone involved. Maybe Esther Marie didn’t like it that he had intervened. Plain women shouldn’t question a man’s decision. Sure Mother argued with Father frequently, but she accepted his decisions without sulking. Esther Marie didn’t look sulky. She looked worried. She probably enjoyed being in charge, but she had to have known that would be a temporary situation.
He picked up his hat from his head, wiped sweat from his brow, and settled the hat in its rightful place. The girls at the registers went back to work. The customers’ chatter resumed.
Esther Marie didn’t move. Her perturbed expression didn’t fade.
“What?”
“We j-j-j-just lo-s-s-t-t-t a gut cus-s-s-t-t-t-omer.”
“Nee. After she thinks it over, she’ll realize my solution was a gut one.”
“You d-d-d-on’t know M-M-Mrs. K-K-K-K . . .” She paused. Her mouth worked. It gaped and closed. Her hands fisted.
Esther Marie had acne scars, but they made her face more interesting. Her eyes were the color of flowers. Even as she fought to do something everyone else took for granted, she couldn’t be ugly. She fought a valiant struggle. He learned that word in a book about kings and queens and knights. They fought with swords. Esther fought to have words. He waited. His mother said that was the best way to help Esther Marie.
“Don’t hurry her. We’re always in such a hurry. Why? We’re not going to a fire. We sell groceries.”
Mother’s pearls of wisdom strung together would make a necklace like the one worn by Mrs. Kowalski, only it would stretch the length of the state of Montana.
“Kowalski.” A flash of triumph brightened Esther Marie’s face. “Hard to p-p-p-lease.”
Jasper shrugged. Many people were hard to please. That didn’t mean they should get away with it. He started toward the back of the store. Receipts would have to be tallied and the deposit slip filled out. A trip to the bank would be necessary. That much he knew.
The real problem came in determining what he did not know. How could he take care of a business that remained mostly a mystery to him? On the other hand, how hard could it be? As Mother often pointed out, they sold groceries.
“I’ll be in the office.” He threw the statement out for the girls at the registers, mainly. “Esther Marie, who’s in the deli?”
“M-M-M-artha. How is F-F-F-ergie?”
> The turmoil with Mrs. Kowalski had taken his mind from his father for a few minutes. “It’s his heart. He’s in surgery. The doctor says he can fix it.”
“Gut.” Her hands fluttered. “You lef-t-t-t the hos-s-s-pital?”
“Bart was there. And David and Matthew.” His brother-in-law liked to be in charge, too, but as bishop, David had the most to say about the situation. “I was told to come here. They’ll call when the surgery is over. You should be running the deli. That’s what you do.”
At least that’s where he typically found her when he brought in the produce needed to make sandwiches, salads, and such.
“Don’t you want to sign for the load of ice cream that just came in?” Rachel had one hand on a package of butter and the other on the register. “I think the man is waiting, and it’s going to start melting soon.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Rachel’s eyebrows rose. She looked past him to Esther Marie.
Esther Marie had already veered to the right and the far aisle that housed the refrigerated cases that held the frozen foods.
He lengthened his stride and followed. Esther Marie stood dwarfed by a tall, muscle-bound deliveryman. A tiny wrinkle in the middle of her forehead, she studied an invoice on a clipboard. The deliveryman talked in a low tone on his cell phone while he waited.
“I can do that.” Jasper held out his hand for the clipboard. “You were going to the deli.”
“You have to c-c-c-ount every-th-th-th-ing. Some of the ord-d-d-der goes to the d-d-d-deli.”
“I know.” Now he did.
Chewing her lower lip, she ducked her head, gave him the clipboard, and walked away.
“Hey, Esther, I think you’ve got a problem.” The cell phone still stuck to one ear, the deliveryman opened one of the refrigerated cases. “Yeppers, that’s what I thought. Warm air. This case ain’t working.”
“Are you sure, Kevin?” Esther Marie spun around and darted back to the man’s side. “Ach. Nee.”
She knew this man’s name? Jasper set that strange fact aside for later examination and planted himself next to her. Melting ice cream dripped from the cartons already in the case. Dribbles of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry meandered until they crossed paths and made mud on the shelf. The supply of cartons was low, but not so low they could afford to have what remained in the case go to waste. “What do we do?”
Kevin and Esther Marie exchanged glances. “You need to move everything in this case to one that’s working.” Kevin’s kind tone didn’t mask the surprised look on his face. Obviously, his expression said. “We’ll have to make room for the new load somewhere else too.”
“An-d-d-d c-c-c-call an elec-t-t-t-trician.” Esther Marie scooted down the aisle to a case that held frozen vegetables and fruits. “There’s r-r-r-oom here.”
Jasper knew nothing about electricity. An enormous store like this required electricity to keep food at proper temperatures. The Health Department inspectors made a big deal about it. Bits and pieces of Father’s long-winded explanations at the supper table had lodged in Jasper’s memory. The Gmay permitted electricity for businesses, which allowed the grocery store and the dairy down the road and other Plain-owned businesses to continue to stay open.
It gave them a way to earn a living because their small farms no longer did. Farming was hard work, but it kept Plain families together and off the electricity grid that connected them to the rest of the world. The fallen world. “It’s not your job . . .” Jasper searched for the man’s name. “Kevin. You brought in the new order. You should go.”
“I don’t mind helping.” Kevin flexed big biceps. The green polo shirt stretched tight across his chest muscles. “I’ll pitch in and we’ll get everything situated ASAP.”
Esther Marie scurried away. Where was she going? Why did she leave him with the ice cream man? Jasper scrambled for a response. “Don’t you have other deliveries?”
“They’ll wait.” Kevin pushed his oversized dolly several feet to the next case. “We’ll stick these in with the veggies.”
“But they don’t go there.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Kevin grinned. He really was a cheerful guy. A nice guy, which was why Esther Marie liked him. “Besides, people would rather buy ice cream than veggies any day.”
Jasper forced a return smile even though his heart wasn’t in it. Smiling was a muscle that needed regular workouts. That’s what Darcie said. Maybe if he smiled more, Esther Marie would like him more. She would also like a man who could take charge of a situation. Jasper opened several doors. Kevin handed him the cartons, and he made stacks by flavor and size.
“That Esther Marie sure is a nice girl.” Kevin flashed another smile as he handed a gallon carton of old-fashioned vanilla to Jasper. “Is she your girlfriend?”
“No.” What kind of question was that? Did English men talk about their special friends with strangers? He handed Jasper three one-gallon containers of old-fashioned vanilla ice cream. His favorite. It went best with apple pie, also his favorite, especially on a hot July night. “Is there room for the rest of this box?”
“Yep. I just wonder why no one has snapped her up. She’s sweeter than a sugar cookie.” Kevin rearranged the cartons to make more room for a stack of cherry-berry ice cream. “I know she stutters and she isn’t much to look at, but she’s a hard worker and she’s so nice. When you get to know her, she kind of starts to look pretty. She would make some guy a good wife.”
Kevin was right about a lot of things. Esther Marie was nice, sweet, and hardworking. But he was wrong about one thing. A man didn’t have to get to know her to see how pretty she was. It sounded like this English man might be interested in Esther Marie. Angst wrapped itself around Jasper’s windpipe and sucked the air from his lungs. Sooner or later, some man would snap her up, and then where would he be?
Jasper usually saved these thoughts for when he was alone in his room. Alone and lonely. It was his fault. A person couldn’t court if he didn’t ask a woman to take a ride in his buggy. The thought made his hands sweat and his stomach curl up in a knot. He cleared his throat. “Plain people don’t talk much about looks. Besides, courting is private.”
Now the man would think Jasper and Esther Marie were courting.
If only it were true. What would it feel like to touch the soft skin on her cheek? It would be nice to hold her hand. She had nice lips. What would it be like to kiss them? A shiver tickled his spine. Surely the draft of cold air from the case and the ice cream carton in his hands were to blame. Not his thoughts. A Plain man shouldn’t have thoughts like that.
How did a man know? His father never talked about it, and Jasper didn’t have friends his own age growing up. He spent most of his time working, hunting, fishing, and camping with his family. He hadn’t been lonely then.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep my bounds.” Kevin shoved his Colorado Grizzlies cap back on his head. “I’m just naturally curious, and it gives me something to think about when I’m driving my route. That and whether climate change is real and who really started the internet and did extraterrestrials actually land in Roswell. I know you don’t mix with outsiders, so what’s a poor girl like Esther Marie to do?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t w-w-w-w-orry about w-w-w-what-t-t-t?” A basket of wet rags, fresh garbage bags, and paper towels in her arms, Esther Marie trotted toward them. “I br-br-brought t-t-t-towels to clean up the m-m-m-melted ice cr-cr-cr-eam as we go.”
“Maybe you can salvage some of it.” Kevin and Jasper dodged Esther Marie’s question at the same time. He opened the malfunctioning case and handed her a sagging carton of strawberry ice cream. Liquid that looked like pink milk ran down his fingers and arm and dripped on the floor. “Or maybe not.”
“Did you call the electrician?” Jasper stowed three more tubs in the case. When no response came, he looked back. “Isn’t that where you went—to call?”
“N
ee.” She applied elbow grease to the mess in the offending case. With efficient movements, she slid the sopping towels into a trash bag and went back for more. “You said you were in charge.”
Not a single stutter. Her emphasis on in charge was unmistakable.
“I know, but I—”
“The n-n-n-umber is on the Rolod-d-dex.”
Kevin didn’t bother to hide his grin. “Checkmate, dude. Guess you better make that call.”
Despite the desire to whine “What do I say,” Jasper wiped his hands on his pants, nodded, and made his most dignified exit.
A tiny giggle followed him down the aisle—he was almost certain of it.
Chapter 5
Being mean-spirited never felt good. The giggle had escaped on its own. Not admitting to a sin resulted in another sin. Esther Marie scrubbed the freezer even harder, but the ache of her muscles didn’t take her mind from the look on Jasper’s face as he trudged away to call the electrician. Anxiety and a determination to do what had to be done mingled in a man who everyone said was better suited for farming than running a business.
Fergie and Lucy’s other sons were too young. They helped Jasper on the farm when they weren’t in school, and they only came to the store for big cleanings or rearranging stock when the entire family got involved. Jasper was the oldest son, but truth be told, Darcie had a better head for business and people liked her. As a wife and mother though, she was needed at home.
How could a smart man be so bad at dealing with people? He didn’t say hello to customers or to his father’s employees—also his employees. He simply plowed past them without even a nod. People liked to be seen. They liked to be appreciated.
Esther Marie didn’t mind if he didn’t greet her. It saved her from stuttering a response. She didn’t want to be noticed by most people. She tried to be humble and know her place. But much as she disliked the idea, she wanted to be seen by Jasper.
Maybe she wanted him to recognize that she could run the store. This was her domain, the thing she did well. It wasn’t her first choice, but when her friends married and she didn’t, the store gave her a reason to get up in the morning. It made her feel useful. She needed it.