Page 2 of When a Soul Cries

I froze for half a second, my fingers resting above the register keys.

That was the third time it had gone off in less than twenty minutes. I didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Bright Beginnings Daycare.

I had noticed the first call while ringing up a man with two overflowing carts. The second came while Mr. Daniels was standing close enough to see me reach for my phone. One warning look from him had forced me to leave it inside my pocket.

The daycare knew I couldn’t answer while I was working, so if they kept calling, it had to be important.

“You rang something up twice,” the woman announced.

“No, ma’am.”

I pulled my phone just far enough out of my pocket to glance at the screen. Four missed calls sat beside another notification from my landlord.

My heart sank, but I didn’t have time to open either message.

“Yes, you did,” she insisted. “Because ain’t no way this little bit of food costs almost two hundred dollars.”

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and looked at her packed shopping cart. A case of water sat beneath it, and the basket was loaded with meat, produce, cereal, cleaning supplies, drinks, snacks, and enough canned goods to survive a natural disaster.

“You have more than a little bit of food.”

She placed one hand against her hip and studied the cart.

“Well, it looked like a little bit when I was putting it in there.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. This woman was trying the last bit of patience I had left, but she was also the first thing that had made me want to smile all day.

“Take those cookies off,” she said.

I reached for them.

“Wait.” She snatched the package back before my fingers touched it. “Not those. My baby asked for those.”

“Okay.”

“Take the laundry detergent off.”

I grabbed the large blue bottle.

“No, wait. I need that too.”

I slowly placed it back inside the bag.

She picked up a pack of chicken wings, stared at the price, and then returned it to the cart.

I exhaled through my nose.

“Ma’am,” I snapped, struggling to keep my voice low, “what do you actually want me to remove?”

“I’m trying to figure it out. Stop rushing me.”

The customer waiting behind her sucked her teeth.

“I’ve been standing here for fifteen minutes,” she complained.

The woman at my register turned around. “And you can stand there for fifteen more if you keep rushing me.”