The inspector moves the bag and runs his flashlight along the baseboard behind the shelf. There are droppings scattered along the wall in a line that disappears into the gap where the shelf meets the corner. He pulls another bag forward and finds a second hole, bigger, with teeth marks along the torn edges.
"Karen, come here," I hiss, feeling mortified. This is not okay, and it's not normal.
She walks over and looks and her hand flies to cover her mouth. "We've never had a pest problem in this building. What the hell is going on?" I snap a glare at her, but her language is warranted. She's right—this isn't right. Something is going on.
He crosses the closet and shines his flashlight behind a rack of baking pans and something moves in the beam. He steps back and a rat shoots along the baseboard and vanishes into a gap in the wall.
I scream. Karen grabs my arm and we stumble back into the kitchen. The inspector makes a note on his clipboard as he looks up at me with a scowl. "Ms. Carter, I'm going to have to issue a temporary closure."
"What? No, you can't do that." My hands are shaking. "Someone had to have put those in here on purpose. We don't have a rat problem." Alarm bells are going off in my head so loud, I feel dizzy. This isn't fair. That damn bastard Langford has to be behind this. He saw we were going to pass inspection and he planted rats here to make us fail.
The man shakes his head and his expression is purely apologetic, but he says, "I understand. But I'm required to shut down anyfood service operation where there's evidence of active rodent presence. Droppings, damaged product, and visual confirmation are all grounds. I don't have a choice."
"How long are we talking about?" I glance around frantically. We have 17 days until the town council vote, and only twenty days until the Fourth of July festival where Langford will make his stupid announcement.
"Three weeks minimum for licensed pest control, full documentation, and then a re-inspection. If it comes back clean, you can reopen then." He stares down at his paperwork while he writes. "That gets you to July fifth, it looks like."
How the heck am I supposed to lose three weeks of income and still pay my bills? This isn't fair. I know those rats weren't here yesterday, but there's no way for me to prove it. And what will Leah and Karen do for money for three weeks? Or the college kids who run register for us?
"I'm sorry," he says as he tears a yellow sheet from his clipboard and holds it out to me. "Reinstatement instructions are on the back. I wish I could do more."
I take the paper and fold it in half and watch him walk out through the front door. Karen and I stand there watching him waddle out, and by the look on her face, I know she feels as pissed as I am. If Jaxon were here, I know he'd have stood up for me. He should've been here. He could've told the inspector that in all the work for the past six weeks, we've not had one rat.
"This was Langford," Karen says. "You know that, right? This didn't happen on its own."
"This shouldn’t have happened," I snap as I stomp over and lock the door behind him, making sure the "Open" sign is turned to "Closed."
"No, it shouldn't," Karen says, sighing. "We'll fix it, okay?" She tries to comfort me, but I brush past her, stomping toward the office. There's already more flour on the ground when I pass and I get so mad, I kick a bag of flour off the shelf, sending a poof of white powder into the air.
He should've been here. I know that if Jaxon had shown up like I needed him to, he could've explained to the inspector that the rats had to have been planted here. He could've pushed for a faster reinspection or something. And I wouldn't feel so damn alone right now.
I pull my phone from my pocket and call him for the sixth time, but like all five times before, it goes straight to voicemail. It pisses me off.
When I need him, he's supposed to be here for me, not off sleeping or something else. And I know it probably sounds harsh, but I wonder if he's drunk or hungover like his father.
"Who are you calling?" Karen asks when she rounds the corner and I have the phone to my ear again, scowling as I pace my tiny office.
"Jaxon—he should’ve been here. I'm just so mad!" The phone goes to voicemail again and I throw it onto the desk in anger.
"Woah, Em…" Karen shakes her head and takes me by both arms, staring me in the eye. "He didn't do this. You know that, right? And it's not his mess to clean up. You're getting mad at the wrong person." I pull away from her, pressing my hand to my forehead again, fighting back tears.
I know she's right but I'm still mad at him. He's supposed to be here for me, and he's not. This time, he's even in the same town as me and he still can't show the fuck up.
"I know!" I snap, and I sink onto my chair covering my face.
"Babe, we'll fix it. Okay?" She sighs but doesn't come closer. "I promise. We'll find a way to fix this."
"I'm so mad…"
"Don't be mad at him, honey. All that proves is that you're still trying to find a way to make him the bad guy in your life." Her words, although true, feel like a slap to the face. "I'll call the staff and let them know. You get yourself together. I hate seeing you like this."
I hear her retreating while I finally let the tears fall.
It doesn't matter if I'm scapegoating Jaxon or not. He should've at least picked up his phone or called me back. If he can't think of anyone but himself, he doesn't deserve a second chance with me.
Not now.
Not ever.
