Christmas at Timberwoods - Fern Michaels [94]
“You sure?” Joe asked, looking down at his daughter.
“Do you have a better idea?” she asked her husband in a low voice. “We have to get in and out of here quickly, doctor’s orders. Come on, honey,” she said brightly to Maria, “one special miracle coming up.”
Mary and Cheryl sat in the manager’s outer office, talking while they waited and idly flipped through magazines. Two other women were ahead of them, clutching plastic bags with logos from expensive mall stores.
“There really isn’t any point in complaining, you know. What’s he going to do?” Cheryl demanded. “It’s almost six thirty and we haven’t eaten dinner yet.”
“How the hell can you be hungry? You just ate half those stale nuts.”
“That’s because I’m starving,” Cheryl griped. “We could be eating, but oh no, you have to come here and complain about the candy and nuts. Little Miss Quality Control, that’s you. Like he’s going to do anything; these guys are just fixtures. All they do is play games with the public.”
“It’s the principle of the thing. Seven dollars is seven dollars. And that clerk was rude. I don’t have to put up with that. And as long as we’re here, I’m going to bitch about that pursesearching business at the door.”
“Speaking of doors, I didn’t see—”
“I’m sorry I even mentioned it. Look, here comes somebody who looks like he handles complaints.”
“How can you tell?” Cheryl muttered.
“Because he has a clipboard, looks efficient, and he’s in a hurry. He’ll make short work of these two ahead of us.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Cheryl said as she stuffed more Jordan almonds into her mouth. “And did you notice she gave us all white almonds? I like the pink ones, and the blue ones, too. I hate white!”
“Do me a favor and save a few so this guy can see that they’re stale.”
Cheryl rolled her eyes and continued to chew. The guy was speedy, she would give him that. Their turn came almost immediately.
“Two things,” Mary said to him firmly. “Don’t hurry me like you did that other lady. I have something to say and I’m going to say it. We bought two digital cameras. As a matter of fact, we spent almost six hundred dollars in the mall this afternoon. Actually, six hundred and seven, if you count the Jordan almonds and the peanut butter fudge, which is why I’m here. The almonds are stale. We bought these cameras after we took a couple of pictures. See these pictures? This is Cheryl,” she said, holding out the first picture, “and this is Santa Claus. We bought two cameras, so we were entitled to two free pictures. This one of Cheryl is okay, but look at this one. Isn’t it a mess? All red. Makes me think of blood.”
The complaints manager looked at the photo indifferently, saying a few noncommittal words.
Mary forged ahead. “I hope there’s nothing wrong with the cameras and they work right when we get them home. Anyway, after we put our things in the locker, we bought these almonds and candy, and they’re stale. We thought you should know. Here, taste them. We want our money back. We complained to Nanette herself and she just said, ‘I’m fresh!’ ”
“That’s the slogan for Nanette’s Nut House,” the man with the clipboard said. He glanced again at the blurred picture, but didn’t say anything about it.
“Well, aren’t you going to do something? Did you hear me? I spent seven dollars on stale candy and nuts, and I want my money back!”
“Not a problem, ma’am. If you have the receipt, I’ll initial it and give you this form to get double your money back from the proprietor. We want our customers to be happy.”
Mary calmed down immediately. “That’s more like it,” she said with satisfaction.
Chapter 15
Carol sat down next to her daughter and sighed. Her polite hello to the Santa she’d thought was theirs had seemed to startle the man. He had muttered some excuse and gotten to his feet, walking swiftly away, like