Emily: “Your total is twenty-three seventy-two. Is that debit or credit?”
Georgie: “Credit.”
Emily: “You have to push the green button… no, the green button. Yes.”

Emily waited with waning patience as the old man in front of her carefully signed his name before shakily handing over the slip of paper. She’d been tired of her cashier job within minutes of training, and had only continued to be frustrated with it in the following weeks. The only reason she hadn’t given up on it already was her lingering fear of ever having to take up waitressing again. She was still having nightmares about that particular line of work several years later.

She only narrowly avoided checking the time as she began to ring up the next set of items.

Emily: “Did you find everything you were looking for?”
Serge: “Emily! How are you?”
Emily: “Serge?”
Serge: “How long have you been working here?”

Emily: “Seventeen days, five hours, twenty seven minutes, sixteen seconds. Give or take.”
Serge: “That bad, huh?”
Emily: “It wasn’t exactly the job I pictured myself having at this stage in my life, but you do what you have to do to pay the bills I guess.”
Serge: “That you do. So you weren’t able to find anything related to your photography work I take it?”

Emily: “Not in this town. I’m pretty sure Andrew saw to it that Mary and I were basically blacklisted. Then there was the guy who practically groped me during the interview. I still haven't decided if that was another one of Andrew's tricks or just a really nasty man.”
Serge: “That’s terrible!”
Emily: “Just the latest in a seemingly unending string of misadventures. So how are things going with you these days? Mingle with any particularly obnoxious celebrities lately?”
Serge: “Actually I’ve been working fairly locally these days. The paper’s getting ready to start a new off-shoot entertainment based weekly they want me to write for, so I’ve been quite busy with that. Can’t complain, really, because I get to stay close to home for a change.”
Emily: “I bet Markus is thrilled to have you around more!”
Serge: “Very. So what’s the damage?”
Emily: “Fifty-Seven Ninety.”
Serge: “The wine does it every time.”

Emily smiled as she took three twenties from Serge before counting back the dime and two dollars change.

Serge: “This may be a bit forward of me, but I happen to know that the paper is looking for a new photographer for the weekly. Constance was supposed to work on the project but ran off to Hawaii with her boyfriend. If you’d like, I’d be happy to pass along a copy of your portfolio to Fernando. I promise he won’t try to grope you.”
Emily: “Are you serious? You’d do that for me?”
Serge: “I can’t guarantee you the job, but I know for a fact Fernando will give you a fair chance.”
Emily: “A fair chance is all I need, Serge. When do you want my portfolio?”
Serge: “As soon as you can get it to me. You can always leave it with Markus if I’m not around.”

Emily struggled to keep herself from throwing herself forward and hugging Serge.

Emily: “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Serge: “It’s my pleasure, really. I assume you’ll be at the show tonight?”
Emily: “Yep! I’m off in another fifteen minutes.”
Serge: “Do you need a ride? We can start our own very small and very short-lived ‘my boyfriend’s in the band’ club and everything.”
Emily: “Tristan’s picking me up, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still start the club.”
Serge: “Sounds like a plan. See you in a few hours!”

Serge grinned before picking up his bags and leaving. Seconds later a fragile looking old woman stepped forward slowly, shakily placing a bouquet of daisies on the counter.

Emily: “Those are pretty!”
Millie: “They’re for my husband.”
Emily: “How sweet! What’s the occasion?”
Millie: “It’s our anniversary today. Walter used to love working in our garden, so every year I buy him flowers like he used to plant at our first house. We would have been married fifty-two years, you know, but he passed on three years ago. It was his ticker.”

Emily did her best to hide her confusion before figuring out what the woman was talking about.

Emily: “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
Millie: “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him dearly, but I just keep reminding myself we’ll be together again. Do you have anyone special in your life?”
Emily: “Yes, I do.”
Millie: “Good for you. I would give just about anything for just a few more hours with Walter.”
Emily: “I don’t doubt that for a second.”
Millie: “You make sure you always let them know how much they mean to you because you never know when they won’t be around anymore.”

Emily could picture all too well Mary’s reaction to any spontaneous show of affection or expression of endearment. The last time she’d gotten her a card ‘just because,' she ended up spending the better part of two weeks trying to convince her friend she wasn’t dying of a horrible and rapidly progressing disease.

Still, maybe it would be a small price to pay.

Emily: “I will.”
Millie: “How much do I owe you for the flowers?”
Emily: “Eight fifty-three.”

The old woman pulled out a crumpled wad of bills and carefully counted out exact change as Emily shuddered against a sudden chill. She was more grateful than usual for the end of her shift and tried not to let her impatience show as she handed over the woman’s receipt with a smile just as her replacement came in for the evening.

As she turned in her drawer and got ready to leave, she couldn’t help but wonder how Mary had managed to keep her job at the diner for so long without being fired. Her friend always seemed to go through life striking a delicate balance between utter chaos and a fierce determination to never let anything beat her. There were times when it got tiring trying to keep up, but Emily was always thankful to have her on her side.

She fought against a lingering melancholy as she stepped out into the brisk early evening air and scanned the street for Tristan’s car.

Tristan: “You escaped early!”

Emily spun around and threw her arms around Tristan, drawing strength from the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

Emily: “God am I ever glad to see you.”
Tristan: “Bad day?”
Emily: “It was ending on an up note until the little old lady came through with flowers for her dead husband. I can’t imagine how it must feel to lose someone that’s been with you for most of your life.”
Tristan: “I don’t even want to try.”

Emily tightened her grip, trying to solidify the bond between herself and Tristan, as though the physical connection could protect both of them from whatever the world could throw at them.

Tristan: “Not that I wouldn’t want to stand out here forever like this, but we should probably get going.”
Emily: “Yeah, sorry. I guess she shook me up more than I thought.”
Tristan: “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not like they’ll start the show without me or anything, I just don’t want you catching a cold or something standing out here. Come on, my car’s parked right over here.”

Emily followed Tristan the short distance to his car. She slid effortlessly into the passenger seat, adjusting the vents to maximize the amount of heat she received.

Tristan: “Did you need to stop by your place or did you bring your stuff?”
Emily: “I brought everything I need for several days in fact.”
Tristan: “Several days?”
Emily: “If you can stand to have me aroun—“