“Look, Mom, I have to go. I'm at work.”
“Work?! Wh–”
I hang up before she can say anything more. She'd have an even bigger fit if she knew I was working at a store like this. I really shouldn't have said the word 'work' at all.
I shove my phone back into my pocket and try to do the same with the tension my mother has left in me as I step through the doors to the store.
Jolene greets me with a genuine smile, and all of the crappy feelings I had tightening and squeezing at my muscles drift away. People like her are the ones that I need in my life, people who are kind and loving and don't try to force me to live a life of unhappiness for their sake.
Yes. This is where I'm meant to be. With a smile returning to my face, I head toward Jolene to start my shift.
The day is much like yesterday with its busy and slow periods throughout, along with meeting new people, including a family that was just spending the day at the main beach area.
At one of the quiet times, I decide to find Jolene and ask her some more questions that have been bugging me about the guy from yesterday. I can't help it. I'm too curious.
She's stacking some pasta boxes on the shelf when I approach her. If she's not restocking something, then she's cleaning; always keeping busy.
“So, um,” I start and then straighten some of the packages on the shelf in front of me. “That guy that was in here yesterday . . .” Her attention immediately swings to me. “You said he's been here for four months?”
“That's right.”
“And he was in prison before that . . . do you know for how long?”
Heavy creases form between her eyes, the subject of this guy clearly one that she does not like in the slightest. “Yes, that's right he was, but I don't know how long it was. Why do you want to know?”
I shrug. “I'm just curious, is all. Do you know if it–”
“Look,” she snaps at me. “All you need to know is that he's dangerous, and you should stay away from him.” Immediately she lifts a hand to touch her chest and takes a deep breath. “I'm sorry. I guess it's just a touchy subject for me.”
“It's okay, Jolene,” I reply. Somehow I know that it wasn't me that she was getting upset with. “I'm sorry for asking.”
She fiddles with the boxes in her hand. “It happened to me, you know. What he did . . . when I was a teenager.” She closes her eyes as if she's reliving it in her mind. “I was at a store, kind of like this one, and pushed into the office . . .”
“Oh, Jolene.” I step closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I'm so sorry.” That explains why she's adamant about locking the office door and not letting anyone else in.
She waves me off with a strained smile. “It's okay. It was a very long time ago. Just . . . just promise me you'll take care and stay away from him.”
The fact that she's warning me away from him does little to quench my curious nature. In fact, the rebel inside of me wants to know him even more so now that I'm warned away. And that's just messed up. Who wants to get to know someone who would do that to a woman?
No, it's not himthat I want to know.I reason with myself. But rather, whyhe did it.
He's quite attractive from what I saw. So was it just some sort of power trip for him?
I want to know.
To ease Jolene's mind, though, I answer, “Sure. I'll be careful.”
This seems to placate her, and she returns to stacking the boxes again.
“Now, I know of a few good single men around here. What's your type?”
I laugh at her question despite her being completely serious. “I'm quite alright being single for now, thank you. But I'll let you know when I'm looking.” I start to walk back toward the front counter again but stop after a few steps and turn around. “Just one last thing . . .What's his name?”
Her lips curl up in disgust again. “Jacob. Jacob Stark.”
I nod and continue on, repeating his name quietly. That kind of name belongs to a sweet guy, not a . . . well, I guess it doesn't matter. I won't be using it.
By the time my shift is done, the weather has become almost unbearably hot. Sweat is practically dripping off of me by the time I make it home, so I immediately change into a bathing suit and walk out onto my back deck toward the water. I love that my backyard is the beach.