South of Superior - Ellen Airgood [31]
“Well now, young lady, what can I do for you?” Albert asked when it was her turn. She explained what Gladys wanted.
“Ah, Gladys.” The way he said it made her grin When they’d assembled everything, he said, “Where’s your car, I’ll send Gus to carry for you.”
“Me carry? You carry, I’m getting too old for this game,” Gus said.
“Oh, that’s all right, I walked.”
“Walk, when you have all this?” Albert shook his head, chewing on the cigar harder. “Naw, that ain’t no good, it’s too much to lug all that way.”
“I’m fine, don’t worry. I’ll make a couple of trips. It’s a nice day.”
“Naw, now listen. You just leave it and I’ll drop it off on my way out of town.”
She protested, but he was immovable. Finally she gave in, and his smile was delighted and boylike. “Here, take an apricot,” he said, handing her a big, deeply golden one from a pint basket that the woman next in line had been about to buy.
Madeline stopped by Mary’s stand next, but Mary was deep in conversation with a young couple who looked like tourists, so Madeline ambled along Main Street, apricot juice dripping down her chin, looking in shop windows. In the first block there was Taylor’s Two Scoops and McAllaster Crafts, neither of which had opened for the season yet; Second Time Around Consignments (only open three days a week); and The Butcher Block Café. The next block was mostly consumed by the hotel—which sat on three lots, at least—and Benson’s SuperValu, next to which sat a tiny bakery called Maki’s Pasties, also not yet open. The third block had the Tip Top Tavern and a small engine repair shop that didn’t have any obvious name. She turned the corner there.
She passed the Village office and the newspaper office and then saw a hand-printed “Help Wanted” sign in the window of the next business, which was Paul Garceau’s pizzeria. Gladys and Arbutus had told her that he owned the place. She stuffed the apricot pit in her pocket, suddenly interested. She’d only been thinking of saying hello—she hadn’t seen Paul since that day they’d returned Greyson to Randi, but she’d thought about him a few times, thought maybe he was someone who could be a friend—but what about a job? Maybe a job was exactly what she needed.
Paul’s building looked like an old house, long and low-slung, white clapboard with red shutters. It was sweet—appealing with its quaint shutters—but the location seemed unfortunate to Madeline, sitting on this Uninspiring side street. Though maybe location didn’t matter so much in such a small town, maybe all that mattered was being the only pizzeria. She pulled open the door.
Inside it smelled of hot bread and pizza sauce. A chalkboard behind the counter described the menu options, and in the lower corner a quotation was written in blue chalk: There are no facts, only interpretations. F. Nietzsche. She grinned. She’d told a customer at Spinelli’s almost the same thing one time, not realizing it was an official kernel of philosophy, and had been surprised how angry the woman got. Her eyes traveled on. There were three wooden booths along each wall, the tables covered with red-checked cloths. The floor was a checkerboard of white and black tile and the walls were crowded with framed photos and pictures. Music drifted out of the kitchen, something bluesy.
A bell had jingled when she opened the door and after a moment Paul came out from the kitchen. He wore chinos, a white T-shirt and half apron, silver-rimmed spectacles. She didn’t remember those from before.
“Madeline Stone,” he said, sounding really pleased. “Hello. What brings you in? Hungry? Thirsty?”
Madeline felt flustered. She only wanted to ask about the job now that she knew there was one. It was true that Arbutus needed her, especially at the crucial moments, but she didn’t want to be watched like a hawk from sunup to sundown and even her sweet nature was showing signs of strain. For her own part, Madeline was getting more than a little restless, and more and more worried about money. She was already dipping into her savings to pay the few bills she had, and that made her nervous. “I wondered