It was an extremely tough time for Allie, understandably. And I was mostly stuck at college, finishing the hockey season and attending classes. I felt helpless. When I went home for spring break that year, I stayed at Allie’s parents’ house, helping her take care of the kids. Her spring break was a different week, so I took care of the kids mostly by myself that week, with help from my mom.
I’d never worked harder in my life. It gave me a newfound respect for Allie, and I loved her more than ever.
That summer, I worked at a lumberyard in Greentree Falls, helping Allie with the kids as much as I could. When it was time for me to go back to school that fall, I asked her to come with me.
She wouldn’t. Her reasons felt stupid to me back then, as a deeply in love nineteen-year-old. She said she couldn’t afford an apartment for her and the kids, and that she needed the support system for the kids she had in Greentree Falls. Max’s dad, Eli, did spend time with him and she said he’d be able to get custody of Max if she tried to take him away.
I was angry. If we loved each other, that was all we needed, I’d tell her. But now, I look back at the whole thing the same way I’m looking at downtown Greentree Falls right now.
I’ve gained enough perspective to see that Greentree Falls isn’t a hick town with nothing to offer. This place sheltered me at a time when I needed it, and it sheltered Allie, too. It doesn’t have art museums, hip cafes or upscale shops, but Greentree Falls does have something you can’t put a price on—community.
This little town would never change, I’d tell Allie as we lay beneath the stars on those summer nights. Other places would grow and evolve and Greentree Falls would always be a small place full of the same faces and last names.
It was a big downside to a teenage boy, but to a nearly thirty-year-old man, it looks like a good place to raise a family. Especially if you’re only eighteen years old and that family was dropped into your lap all of a sudden.
I told myself Allie just wanted to be rid of me back then. She told me her plans for a future with me died that day with her parents, and I got pissed off and indignant about it. I acted like an immature, selfish asshole.
It’s clear from our encounter at the rink the other night that she wants nothing to do with me, and I can’t say I blame her. But I hope she can put up with me for just a few minutes, because I owe her something that’s long overdue—an apology.SixAllieOur new checker, Chip, scrunches his face at me in confusion.
“But…I was told to be friendly and energetic. That’s what I’m doing.”
“You are, and I appreciate that. But you can’t say, ‘Have a foxy day,’ and wink at female customers. Or at any customer, really. You just say, ‘Thanks for shopping at Fox Foods.’”
“But that’s boring. People want to hear something different from each checker. We all need to have our own…personas, you know?”
“No. If you want to shadow a senior checker for one more shift so you can see how we do it, I’ll set that up.”
He rolls his eyes at me. If he was one of my kids, I’d threaten to take away his phone right now.
“The old ladies who shop here love getting winked at by a young guy,” he says. “And a pretty good looking one, at that.”
The bagger who was snooping on our conversation, Rita, slips away, her eyes bulging. She knows my patience has run out, and she’ll be next in line for a verbal wrist slap if she doesn’t get to work.
“Chip, you can either do the job the way I’m telling you to, or you can find a place to work where personas are more in demand. I’ve been clear, and if this happens again we’ll be discussing it over a written warning.”
“Fine,” he says flatly. “Whatever.”
Good help is so hard to find, especially when school is in session. Some of my best employees are high school kids. But summer break is about to start, so employees like Chip will soon find their hours getting cut to make room for people who follow the rules.
“Allie, do you have a second?”
I turn to see June Mathieson, who was my kindergarten teacher but is now retired, looking up at me. She’s maybe five feet tall, and she’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known.
“Of course, Mrs. Mathieson.”
She steers her shopping cart to the side, concern etched into the wrinkles on her face.
“How are you and the kids doing? You must have your hands full with three teenagers.”