she’d been pregnant, and now she wasn’t anymore. Just like that. They all knew she wasn’t going to keep the baby. That wouldn’t be a surprise, but still. She knew it was bound to be awkward. She hadn’t even been back to school yet. That would take her a while longer, she figured.
Thank God, Howard wasn’t there. Howard was the day manager on the weekends when she usually worked. Howard had a crush on her, and once, in Feminine Hygiene, he muttered something about helping her raise the baby. She’d acted like she didn’t hear him and rushed back to the counter, pretending she had a customer. Today when she’d walked through the doors, it was Deena who was up on a stepladder replacing one of the fluorescent bulbs. “Hi,” Deena had said, like everything was normal. Deena was no-nonsense. She wouldn’t have cared if Crystal had had a litter of puppies right before her shift; there was work that needed to be done. “Someone just dropped a twelve-pack of MGD in Beverages,” she said. “Mop’s already out there.” And then, stepping down off the ladder, she scowled. “You okay to mop?” And Crystal nodded.
Six hours later, Crystal’s breasts had hurt so badly she thought she might die. Even the cheap polyester of her work shirt pressing against them was almost unendurable. And then as she was ringing up some creep buying Fiddle Faddle, socks, and duct tape, she felt her entire chest go hot and wet. The guy’s bug eyes got buggier and he gawked at her, staring at her chest. When she looked down, she could see perfect circles spreading across each boob, like blood from a pair of bullet wounds.
“Shit,” she said and threw the guy’s change at him, ducking out behind the counter and running to the Baby Care aisle. She grabbed a box of nursing pads and made a dash for the restroom. She found Deena restocking an endcap of batteries. “I gotta put these on my tab,” Crystal said, holding up the box. Ashamed.
Deena looked confused at first and then, noticing the two wet blossoms at Crystal’s chest, nodded. “You can take one of my shirts from my locker,” she said.
Somehow she’d managed to make it through the rest of her shift, even when the lady, the one who was always stealing shit, asked her if she was having a boy or a girl. That just about did her in. But she’d just kept working, and soon it was time to go home.
On her way to clock out, she walked down the baby aisle again, and when she saw the package of two Winnie the Pooh pacifiers, she felt a tug in her chest, a quickening of her heart. She thought about the lady slipping barrettes, Scotch tape, bubble gum into her pocket. How bold she was. How ballsy. She glanced around to make sure Deena wasn’t coming and plucked the pacifier package off the rack and, hands trembling, shoved it into her pocket. But then as she waved good-bye and headed toward the door, she felt guilty and slipped a couple of bucks into the register.
Now she wrapped her wet hair in a towel, put on her sweats, and pulled the pacifiers out of the pocket of her dirty work shirt before chucking it in the laundry pile.
Downstairs, her parents and sister were watching a movie on TV, but she locked her door anyway and sat down on the edge of her bed.
Eeyore . He was her favorite character when she was a kid. She even had a stuffed one from one of their trips to Disney World. She put her finger through the plastic loop, held the pacifier to her nose, and sniffed the strange chalky latex smell. Then, after she climbed under the covers and turned out the light, she closed her eyes and put the pacifier in her mouth.
K urt walked.
In the middle of the night, when his legs started warming up for their symphony of pain, he had no choice but to move them. He’d found that the only way to quiet his limbs was to listen to them, to stand up and let them sing. In the winter, he just walked up and down the hallway that ran through their small house, the wooden floors creaking
Thank God, Howard wasn’t there. Howard was the day manager on the weekends when she usually worked. Howard had a crush on her, and once, in Feminine Hygiene, he muttered something about helping her raise the baby. She’d acted like she didn’t hear him and rushed back to the counter, pretending she had a customer. Today when she’d walked through the doors, it was Deena who was up on a stepladder replacing one of the fluorescent bulbs. “Hi,” Deena had said, like everything was normal. Deena was no-nonsense. She wouldn’t have cared if Crystal had had a litter of puppies right before her shift; there was work that needed to be done. “Someone just dropped a twelve-pack of MGD in Beverages,” she said. “Mop’s already out there.” And then, stepping down off the ladder, she scowled. “You okay to mop?” And Crystal nodded.
Six hours later, Crystal’s breasts had hurt so badly she thought she might die. Even the cheap polyester of her work shirt pressing against them was almost unendurable. And then as she was ringing up some creep buying Fiddle Faddle, socks, and duct tape, she felt her entire chest go hot and wet. The guy’s bug eyes got buggier and he gawked at her, staring at her chest. When she looked down, she could see perfect circles spreading across each boob, like blood from a pair of bullet wounds.
“Shit,” she said and threw the guy’s change at him, ducking out behind the counter and running to the Baby Care aisle. She grabbed a box of nursing pads and made a dash for the restroom. She found Deena restocking an endcap of batteries. “I gotta put these on my tab,” Crystal said, holding up the box. Ashamed.
Deena looked confused at first and then, noticing the two wet blossoms at Crystal’s chest, nodded. “You can take one of my shirts from my locker,” she said.
Somehow she’d managed to make it through the rest of her shift, even when the lady, the one who was always stealing shit, asked her if she was having a boy or a girl. That just about did her in. But she’d just kept working, and soon it was time to go home.
On her way to clock out, she walked down the baby aisle again, and when she saw the package of two Winnie the Pooh pacifiers, she felt a tug in her chest, a quickening of her heart. She thought about the lady slipping barrettes, Scotch tape, bubble gum into her pocket. How bold she was. How ballsy. She glanced around to make sure Deena wasn’t coming and plucked the pacifier package off the rack and, hands trembling, shoved it into her pocket. But then as she waved good-bye and headed toward the door, she felt guilty and slipped a couple of bucks into the register.
Now she wrapped her wet hair in a towel, put on her sweats, and pulled the pacifiers out of the pocket of her dirty work shirt before chucking it in the laundry pile.
Downstairs, her parents and sister were watching a movie on TV, but she locked her door anyway and sat down on the edge of her bed.
Eeyore . He was her favorite character when she was a kid. She even had a stuffed one from one of their trips to Disney World. She put her finger through the plastic loop, held the pacifier to her nose, and sniffed the strange chalky latex smell. Then, after she climbed under the covers and turned out the light, she closed her eyes and put the pacifier in her mouth.
K urt walked.
In the middle of the night, when his legs started warming up for their symphony of pain, he had no choice but to move them. He’d found that the only way to quiet his limbs was to listen to them, to stand up and let them sing. In the winter, he just walked up and down the hallway that ran through their small house, the wooden floors creaking
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