The Haunted - Jessica Verday [73]
They hadn’t even gotten her name right.
A tortured groan slipped out of me before I could hold it back, but Uncle Bob must not have heard, because he turned to her with a big smile on his face. “Aubra, this is my niece, Abbey. She’s going to help us out. Abbey, Aubra will show you the ropes. She can take care of the cash register while you handle the customers.” Rumbling noises suddenly emerged from the room where the freezers were kept. Uncle Bob cast a worried glance in the direction of the sound.
“That’s the freezer giving up the ghost. I’m gonna have to go check it out. Will you two be able to hold down the fort?”
No, Uncle Bob. Don’t leave me here with her! “Sure,” I said instead.
“Absolutely,” Aubra replied.
Uncle Bob gave us both a wide grin and then disappeared into the back.
Aubra and I turned to face each other, standing off like two skittish gazelles in the middle of a pack of lions, waiting to see who would make the first move. Aubra looked me up and down. “You look kind of familiar. Your name is Abbey?” Here we go… “Yeah, we go to the same school.”
“Oh.” She tossed her head. Clearly now she was the lion and I was the gazelle. “And you’re the boss’s niece, huh? I hope that doesn’t make you think you’re going to get any special privileges. Cuz you’re not.”
Right. Because I’m sure she’s never used her position on the cheerleading squad, or her short skirt, to get special privileges. “I’m not—”
“Whatever. Look, just stay out of my way and do what I say, comprende?”
“Yeah, sure. Okay.” I sighed. The doorbell chimed, and a man and a little boy walked in.
Aubra sneered at me, muttered, “Nice shirt,” and then stalked away to go greet them. I looked down at my baggy shirt and pushed the sleeves up. This day needed to go by fast, or else I wasn’t going to make it.
I slipped behind the counter and waited while Aubra smiled and chatted up the man. He kept cocking his head to one side and bragging about his ride—probably a flashy red sports car that just screamed midlife crisis!—while his kid ran grimy fingers over the window that covered the ice cream tubs.
Finally, Aubra glanced over at me and told me to grab a scooper.
I reached for one, trying to fling off the beads of water that clung to it without spraying myself in the face, and stood by the cooler.
“What kind do you want, Billy?” the man asked.
Billy pressed his dirty face against the glass, then finally said, “Chocolate.” Aubra glared at me. “You heard him. Are you going to scoop?” I leaned down over the chocolate, digging the scooper into ice cream that was hard as a rock. I tried again, angling the scooper a bit more. That was unsuccessful too. So I started hacking at it. Eventually, little slivers of ice cream started flaking away, and I gathered several of them into a pathetically small ball.
“I want vanilla!” Billy suddenly yelled.
Pausing, I looked over to Aubra. “Vanilla with chocolate? Like two scoops?” But the dad was already shaking his head no. “I told you only one scoop, Billy. Do you want vanilla instead of chocolate?”
Billy stomped his foot and shook his head too. Apparently, he wanted both. The father knelt down in front of him and took what seemed like forever to calm him down. My back was killing me from staying bent over, and the flakes of chocolate I’d managed to hack off were starting to melt.
“We’ll take vanilla,” the man said, standing to face Aubra.
I didn’t know what to do with the ice cream I already had, so I tried to put it back. The scooper refused to give it up though, until finally Aubra gave a disgusted sigh and reached over to take it out of my hand. She threw the scooper back into the water trough and told me to get a new one.
Fresh utensil in hand, I bent down to get the vanilla.
“Watch it!” Aubra cried. “Your sleeves are getting into the ice cream.” I looked down and saw my sleeve