Page 11 of Harbinger of Destiny

“That was Donna. I need to leave. Can you close up tonight?”

She knew it wasn’t a question, it was an order. She nodded, even though she didn’t like the responsibility nor the fact that having to lock up meant she’d get home even later. “No problem, Mr. Mercola.”

“Thanks, Amy.”

He took off his apron and hung it on a hook in the employee closet. Amy turned back to cleaning the machine. She heard the sound of coins clinking and looked over her shoulder. Mercola fished a ten-dollar bill from the tip jar. When their eyes met, he said, “I need some change. I’ll put it back tomorrow.”

He headed out the door. Tears rose to her eyes, but she pushed them back. This wasn’t the first time that he’d taken money from her tip jar, claiming he needed change and promising her he’d put it back the next day. He had yet to keep that promise. He’d never replaced the money he’d taken. Maybe he believed that as the owner he deserved the tips more than his employees. And what was she to do? Remind him that he hadn’t put the tips back? If she did, he’d fire her, she was sure.

The coffee shop emptied out over the next hour, while Amy tidied up and cleaned what needed to be cleaned so she wouldn’t have to stay too long after locking the door. The last person to leave was the handsome young man. When he walked to the door and opened it, he seemed to hesitate for a moment. He turned halfway, but then seemed to think better of it, and left.

Amy walked to the door, flipped the dead bolt and turned the sign from open to closed. Then she walked to the table the handsome stranger had occupied. The juice bottle was empty, but he’d taken only one bite from the blueberry muffin.

She pulled a small plastic bag from her apron’s pocket and put the muffin into it. It would be her breakfast tomorrow. She took the empty bottle and straightened, while she looked out at the sidewalk. She froze. The young man who’d barely touched his muffin stood there, looking at her. He’d seen that she’d taken the leftover food, and while there was nothing wrong or illegal about taking food that somebody else had discarded, she felt embarrassment flood her. In the past three years she’d never cared what others thought of her, so why did it bother her now that this guy had witnessed her scrounge for food? Was it because it emphasized the chasm between him, a guy who seemed to have everything, and her, a girl who had nothing?

And soon, Amy would have less than nothing. Her rent was due in three days, and if she didn’t tighten her belt even more, and if Mercola pilfered her tips again over the next few days, she wouldn’t have enough to make the rent. She would be out on the street. And that prospect scared her.

She cast a defiant look at the man outside. She couldn’t allow herself to feel embarrassed for being poor. She had to survive.

7

DO THE RIGHT THING

Saturday, April 5, 2025

Amy snuck out of the apartment before any of her roommates had gotten up. She didn’t need another confrontation with them. She hadn’t been able to scrape enough money together to make the rent on the first of the month. Her roommates had grudgingly granted her a five-day extension, covering the rent for her until tonight. But then she would have to pay, or they would lock her out and have somebody else move in. It wasn’t that they were trying to be mean to her, but since they too were on limited budgets, it wasn’t easy for them to pay the full rent to the landlord when one roommate couldn’t pay.

She had called her colleague Rosie and begged her to take on one of her weekend shifts at the coffee shop, and Rosie had done her the favor. It meant Amy would have two shifts today. On the weekend, the tips were generally better, and she was confident that she would be collecting sufficient tips to scrape together the rest of the rent money.

As predicted, most of the day it was busy in the coffee shop, and Amy had little time to take a breather. When it got quieter toward the early evening, the handsome stranger was back. He’d been back every day this week. She’d found out his name, Joshua, because on two occasions he’d paid with the app on his cell phone. And every time he’d left a large tip in cash.

Every time she served him, he addressed her by her name and thanked her with a smile, just like he did now.

“Thanks, Amy.”

Joshua flashed her a bright smile, and for a moment, she forgot about her scars and allowed herself to think that he was flirting with her. Of course, he wasn’t, but it felt good to pretend that she was just like any other pretty nineteen-year-old single girl. To pretend that somebody was attracted to her.

His usual table in the corner was occupied by a young tourist couple, so he took a seat at a table near the door and set down his drink and pastry. As always, Joshua was alone. She’d never seen him with anybody or even talk on the phone to anyone. It surprised her. A guy with his looks and obvious charm had to be popular. And for sure somebody like Joshua had a girlfriend. And even if he didn’t, Amy knew not to reach for the stars.

When the next customer paid with a large bill and change was running low in the till, Amy exchanged the coins and smaller bills in the tip jar with larger banknotes and closed the till again. When she looked up, two new customers stood in front of her, ready to order.

“What can I get you?” she asked the two guys who seemed to be in their mid-twenties.

“I’ll have a large latte, a grilled cheese panini, and a banana,” the taller of the two said.

“I’ll have the same,” the second one added, “but I’d like my latte with non-fat milk.”

Knowing that the sandwich took a few minutes on the panini grill, she said, “Let me get the sandwiches started for you right away. And then I’ll ring you up.”

Amy turned around and bent down to the refrigerator that held the sandwiches ready to be grilled and placed two of them on a plate using tongs. Then she rose and took a step toward the grill, when she heard a scraping sound coming from the counter. She glanced over her shoulder.

To her shock, she saw the shorter of the two guys snatching all the bills from the tip jar and stuffing them into his pocket, while the taller one blocked the other customers’ view.

“Thief!” she yelled and charged toward them, while the plate with the sandwiches slipped out of her hand and dropped to the floor, shattering.

The two guys spun around and sprinted toward the door. Still behind the counter, Amy lost valuable seconds to run around it, when the shorter guy suddenly tripped and fell face forward. The other guy stumbled, but didn’t fall.

“Fuck!” the one on the ground cursed, while the other one tried to get past him to escape.