Stop! This is the fourteenth episode!
Looking for the beginning of Kay’s Story?
- Kay (Part one) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay (Part Two) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay (Part Three) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay (Part Four) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay (Part Five) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay (Part Six) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay (Part Seven) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay (Part Eight) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay’s Story (Part Nine) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay’s Story (Part Ten) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay’s Story (Part Eleven) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay’s Story (Part Twelve) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
- Kay’s Story (Part Thirteen) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
The store hadn’t been this empty for a long time. No one wanted to be inside on a sunny day like this one. Most people were out, preparing their gardens or fixing fences that had collapsed under the winter’s heavy snowfall. Kay grabbed another case of canned green beans and continued the mundane task of stocking shelves, letting her mind wander.
So far, everything was going according to plan. Sinja, a lawyer who attended the same church as Kay, had agreed to give her pro-bono legal advice. Kay’s apartment was to be approved as a child safe residence, just as soon as the necessary changes were implemented. She had the inspector’s signed report, along with copies of the paperwork from the contractor she’d hired to fix the problem areas.
But deep down, Kay couldn’t help feeling slightly worried. Baby gates, childproof locks, finishing the upstairs loft to create a nursery…. so much to do and so little time or money to do it with.
She soberly addressed the shelving unit, vocalizing the debate in her brain. “True, my friends are wonderful, but part of me just doesn’t like all these people helping. I want to be seen as confident and independent. I want to prove that I can do this myself!”
Ahem. Kay whirled around at the sound of a throat being cleared behind her and found herself staring into the bemused face of a young man who looked to be a maybe eight or so years older than her.
“I’m sorry, can I help you? I was just… I was distracted. Thinking. Out loud.” Kay felt heat rising from the tips of her toes, as tried to make her face look normal.
The stranger’s grin widened. “I figured as much. I must say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look at a can of green beans with such a serious and determined glare before. I almost wish I could have waited for the veggie’s reaction.”
Now, Kay’s face was beet red and she was starting to get more than a little annoyed. “Is there something you need?”
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, here I am teasing you and you don’t even know my name. I’m Jeff and I just moved into the area from out of state. I’m pretty lost, as far as the way things are set up here. I was hoping that you could point me in the direction of the coffee syrup?”
“Coffee syrup??” Kay raised one eyebrow and tried to determine if he was pulling her leg.
“Uh, you know, the stuff you add to milk to make coffee milk. Like chocolate syrup, but coffee flavored. Comes in a brown bottle, about yea high?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a thing in my life. I’ll ask my boss, Brian, but you might just be out of luck.”
She shook off her flustered state and put on her customer service persona. “Hold on for one moment, please. I’ll go ask him right now.”
She found Brian in the back room and after listening to a five minute rant that repeatedly made use of the words “jeezum crow” and “crazy flatlanders”, Kay returned with the news that no such thing existed in the store or any of their supply catalogs.
“You’ve really never had coffee milk?”
Now it was Kay’s turn to smirk at his incredulity. “Nope. And amazingly enough, I’ve survived just fine so far.”
“Well, I’ll just have to ask my sister to send me some in the mail and I will personally bring you a glass. Say, I told you my name, but you never mentioned yours.”
She wasn’t sure if he was flirting and momentarily considered ignoring him, but somehow that seemed too rude.
“I’m Kay.” After wiping her dusty palms on her jeans, she reached out for a handshake and inwardly scolded her heart for suddenly beating faster.
To be continued…
Ah…I like the new twisit to the story.
Thanks Charles! 😉 I didn’t plan that one… it just happened when my fingers started typing.
Pingback: Kay’s Story (Part Fifteen) « The Wisdom of Gavroche
Pingback: Kay’s Story (Part Sixteen) « The Wisdom of Gavroche
Pingback: Kay’s Story (Part Nineteen) « The Wisdom of Gavroche