Roxanne’s mouth drops open.
Shirley lurches in her seat, visibly indignant. I assume she’s going to complain about Mrs. Bunting being fired, but instead she says, “Falsely accused? The girl was in prison!”
“First of all, she’s done her time. And she came out with enough courage to try again,” I rasp, trying as hard as I can to keep my composure. “She didn’t take the damn earrings. I’ll bet my position at this company on that.” I hear a soft intake of breath and turn long enough to catch Stella’s bemused expression. Did she assume…I’d found her guilty? No. No way. “Second, Grandmother, I’m glad you noticed the store is packed, because it has a lot to do with Stella’s window and the attention it brought to Vivant.”
“Through the internet,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.
“Yes, through the internet. Where attention comes from, Shirley.” For the love of everything holy. “Look, either you’re in the business of judging employees based on their contribution to the store or you’re doing it wrong. It appears to be the latter, so I suggest you stay home from now on. Board meetings are cancelled until further notice. Merry Christmas.”
“You can’t just cancel—”
“Oh yes I can. I have a controlling interest in this company. Sixty percent, if you’ll recall. Those meetings are just to humor you.” Leland has produced a lighter from out of nowhere and is waving it side to side in the air like he’s at a Foo Fighters concert.
My father snorts, his expression finally losing some of its perpetual boredom. Resentment twists his mouth, instead. “You hold those meetings so you can remind us we would have declared bankruptcy without you playing the hero.”
I always suspected how my father felt, but to have it said plainly is a sock to the stomach. Anger and resignation help me recover. “You’re wrong. Today is the first time I’ve brought it up since I took over as general manager. I held those meetings thinking it might bring us closer together as a family. That’s all I ever wanted in coming back here. I wasn’t rescuing the store to hold it over your heads. Maybe in a way, I wanted to prove I was worth keeping around this time, but mostly, I was trying to be someone to you.” Something unknots inside of me like a ribbon, the sides fluttering free and fading into nothing. “But I’m no longer interested. Not even a little bit. Being something to you means being less to myself.” I shake my head. “Thank God you sent me to Edna.”
My father looks down at the ground sharply. If I happen to glimpse a hint of regret in his eyes, I don’t get any pleasure out of it. Sensing a presence behind me, I turn to find Stella standing in the doorway of the back room. If I didn’t know any better I would say she’s in shock. God, she’s so beautiful. But she’s staring at me like she’s seeing me for the first time. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
I don’t have a chance to ask because Jordyn is back, ushering members of the sales team into the small human resources office with the brisk efficiency of a flight attendant. Once the half dozen of them are packed like sardines into the room, I speak. “Listen up, everyone. I want to start off by saying no one is going to be penalized for coming forward. Understand? We’re smack dab in the middle of the busy season, after a long lull. It’s easy for merchandise to get misplaced. But I need you all to think carefully now, sort back through the last couple of days. Did anyone show two pairs of earrings and forget to lock them up? Or maybe had a customer accidentally walk off without paying? It wouldn’t be the first time—”
“Were they diamonds?” comes a voice from the group, but I can’t tell from where.
“Yes,” Jordyn responds quickly, scanning the faces of each employee.
A young woman with a red side braid steps forward and slaps a hand across her eyes and starts talking in a high-pitched rush. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Cook. A man put them on sort of an unofficial hold yesterday afternoon. I know we’re not supposed to put jewelry on hold during the Christmas season, but he was so sweet and he just needed until Friday to get paid, so I…they’re in the back of register number three. In the spare change compartment. He couldn’t choose which pair, so I tucked them both away. He was going to decide by Friday. I just didn’t want someone else to buy them. Oh God, please don’t fire me. I’ll never do it again.”
As the girl has been giving her explanation, the tension has slowly ebbed from my chest. Not because I was worried Stella took the earrings. No, sir. The relief at having an explanation, having it over for her, is just so steep, I feel like I’m flying down a hill in a wheelbarrow. Again. Pulled that stunt when I was eleven and knocked out a tooth for my trouble. “Thank you for telling the truth. No one is getting fired. Especially for helping a fella impress his sweetheart.” I trade a smile with Jordyn. “You can all return to the floor now.”
There’s a chorus of thank yous and shuffling feet as everyone files out.
My father, Shirley and Roxanne look chastised, but neither one of them look prepared to issue an apology to Stella, reinforcing everything I’d said and done since walking into human resources.
Jordyn sends Stella a warm wink, preparing to follow her charges back to the main floor, when Seamus sticks his head into the office, a broom in one hand. “Sorry to interrupt. Did someone park a white Mercedes in front of the store?”
My grandmother nearly upsets her tea. “Yes. I did. Why? My driver is off today. I put my hazard lights on.”
Seamus winces. “It’s been towed, ma’am. Sorry. There was nothing I could do.”
I don’t miss the wink the custodian sends Jordyn. Or the look of promise she gives him in return, following him out of the office.
But I’m a gentleman, so I choose to pretend I see nothing.
“Heading back upstairs, boss,” Leland singsongs, still waving the lighter on his way out.
I start to offer the use of my car and driver to my grandmother and Brad, but Shirley is already on the phone with someone named Gregory, offering him double his daily wage to come pick them up and drive them home. They cast twin glares at me on their way out and yes, it still stings. Maybe it always will. But I feel lighter having let go of their expectations of me.
Simply meeting my own.
And finally, finally, I turn and give my full attention to Stella.
She looks like she’s caught mid-swallow and there’s a layer of moisture in her eyes. Without pausing in my attempt to re-memorize every feature of her face, I take out my pocket square, shake out the folds and hand it to her.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” she whispers back.
“If it’s all the same to you, Mr. Cook,” Roxanne interrupts stiffly. “I’ll work from home for the rest of the day.”
“Actually, there’s something you can do before you leave,” Stella answers, catching me off-guard. “Mrs. Bunting, do you have a love contract handy?”
My heart catapults upward and slaps against my brain. “What are you doing?”
“I’m signing it. We’re signing it.”
By the grace of God, I manage to keep from kneeling at her feet and weeping with gratitude. I can’t, though. I can’t accept what she’s offering until it’s right. Until it’s good for her. “Not because of what I did here today, Stella. Not because you feel obligated—”