He watched as the effort of talking proved too much for his dad and his eyes became heavy with sleep. Matt didn’t move, he just sat there, holding his hand.
The way his father had always done for him when he was a boy.
Jena was close to the end of her first shift at the hardware store and she couldn’t have been more ready to go home. Gordon and Brenda had hovered over her all day, like a couple of grey-haired bodyguards. She was fine with the hovering—the hovering was kind of sweet. What she didn’t enjoy was Gordon’s constant laughter. The man, along with his sick sense of humour, was beginning to get on her nerves. It was time to deal with him—after she’d dealt with her latest customer. She gave the man a beaming smile.
“Welcome to Stewart hardware, how can I help you?”
“Do you have any size-six washers?” the timid little man asked.
Jena frowned. “I think you have the wrong shop. We only sell DIY stuff. If you want a washer you need to go along the road to the furniture place. They’ve got a selection of washing machines and dishwashers. I don’t know if they have size six, but I’m sure they’ll order one if they don’t have it in stock.”
The guy stared at her, open-mouthed. Gordon’s laughter told her she’d screwed up again. That was it. She’d had enough. She held a finger up to the guy in front of her, giving him a strained smile. “Give me one minute.”
She stomped over to stand in front of Gordon. She put her hands on her hips. “That’s it. I’ve had enough. This isn’t funny. Nothing about this is funny. How am I supposed to know this stuff? It isn’t like it’s genetically programmed into you at birth.” She pointed a finger at him. “Somebody taught you, Gordon Stewart. Now stop laughing, get up off your lazy backside and teach me what I need to know.”
She stomped back to the customer, who looked like he was going to hyperventilate and pass out. She gave him her winning smile. It had no impact. She felt Gordon come up beside her.
“All you had to do was ask,” he grumbled. “There was no need for the histrionics.”
Oh, she could feel her blood boil now. It must have come across in her face, because Gordon paled slightly. “Is that even a word?”
He swallowed hard. “Let’s get back to dealing with the customer. We do sell washers.”
Jena looked around. “Where? I haven’t seen any, and I think I would have noticed something that size.”
Gordon pulled a drawer open in the wall of drawers behind the counter. “Size six, you said?”
The customer nodded, his relief clear.
“Here you go.” Gordon passed a small, flat metal disc with a hole in the middle to the guy.
“That’s a washer?” Jena pointed at it. Her eyes narrowed. “Are you pulling my leg?” She turned to the customer. “Did he put you up to this?” She jerked her thumb at her boss.
“No.” The guy went wide-eyed. “That really is a washer and I really do need one.”
“Mm.” She folded her arms and tapped the toe of her Mexican wedge sandal on the tile-covered floor. “Pay the man,” she ordered the customer.
The guy rushed to do as he was told, grabbed the tiny metal disc and ran from the shop.
“There’s no need to be rude to the customers,” Gordon said gruffly.
Jena growled, the noise startling even her. “I’ll get something to take notes with. You”—she poked a finger into his burly chest—“are going to open each of those drawers and tell me what’s in them. I want to know what it is and what it’s used for. Got it?”
“Got it.” Gordon looked suitably cowed. Good.
“Here you go, love.” Brenda passed her a notebook and pen. “I wondered how long it would take you to snap. You’re far too nice. Most people wouldn’t have lasted an hour, and you made it through the whole morning.” She turned to her husband. “I hope you had your fun this morning, because it’s the only fun you’re getting all month.” Her raised eyebrow and Gordon’s suddenly red cheeks made Brenda’s meaning clear.
It was Jena’s turn to laugh.
The first thing Matt did when he returned from Fort William was check up on Jena. Much to his disgust, he found her being asked out on yet another date. The sight made Matt bristle, pushing aside the melancholy feeling a visit with his dad usually caused. Her latest suitor
was Bob the butcher. The guy was a sleaze. Matt knew for a fact he’d only broken up with his girlfriend the day before.
“Shouldn’t you be mourning, or something?” Matt plonked the sandwiches he’d picked up for lunch on the polished wooden counter.
Bob gave him a wide grin. His teeth practically sparkled. There was no way they were that white naturally. Now that Matt noticed, he was pretty sure Bob’s hair had never been that blonde either.
“Lisa and I were over for a long time before we called it a day,” Bob said. “There’s no mourning to be had.” He shrugged muscled shoulders. “These things happen.” He gave Jena another dazzling smile. “I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow, then?”