“Were they diamonds?” comes a voice from the group, but I can’t tell from where.
“Yes,” Jordyn responds quickly, scanning the faces of each employee.
A young woman with a red side braid steps forward and slaps a hand across her eyes and starts talking in a high-pitched rush. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Cook. A man put them on sort of an unofficial hold yesterday afternoon. I know we’re not supposed to put jewelry on hold during the Christmas season, but he was so sweet and he just needed until Friday to get paid, so I…they’re in the back of register number three. In the spare change compartment. He couldn’t choose which pair, so I tucked them both away. He was going to decide by Friday. I just didn’t want someone else to buy them. Oh God, please don’t fire me. I’ll never do it again.”
As the girl has been giving her explanation, the tension has slowly ebbed from my chest. Not because I was worried Stella took the earrings. No, sir. The relief at having an explanation, having it over for her, is just so steep, I feel like I’m flying down a hill in a wheelbarrow. Again. Pulled that stunt when I was eleven and knocked out a tooth for my trouble. “Thank you for telling the truth. No one is getting fired. Especially for helping a fella impress his sweetheart.” I trade a smile with Jordyn. “You can all return to the floor now.”
There’s a chorus of thank yous and shuffling feet as everyone files out.
My father, Shirley and Roxanne look chastised, but neither one of them look prepared to issue an apology to Stella, reinforcing everything I’d said and done since walking into human resources.
Jordyn sends Stella a warm wink, preparing to follow her charges back to the main floor, when Seamus sticks his head into the office, a broom in one hand. “Sorry to interrupt. Did someone park a white Mercedes in front of the store?”
My grandmother nearly upsets her tea. “Yes. I did. Why? My driver is off today. I put my hazard lights on.”
Seamus winces. “It’s been towed, ma’am. Sorry. There was nothing I could do.”
I don’t miss the wink the custodian sends Jordyn. Or the look of promise she gives him in return, following him out of the office.
But I’m a gentleman, so I choose to pretend I see nothing.
“Heading back upstairs, boss,” Leland singsongs, still waving the lighter on his way out.
I start to offer the use of my car and driver to my grandmother and Brad, but Shirley is already on the phone with someone named Gregory, offering him double his daily wage to come pick them up and drive them home. They cast twin glares at me on their way out and yes, it still stings. Maybe it always will. But I feel lighter having let go of their expectations of me.
Simply meeting my own.
And finally, finally, I turn and give my full attention to Stella.
She looks like she’s caught mid-swallow and there’s a layer of moisture in her eyes. Without pausing in my attempt to re-memorize every feature of her face, I take out my pocket square, shake out the folds and hand it to her.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” she whispers back.
“If it’s all the same to you, Mr. Cook,” Roxanne interrupts stiffly. “I’ll work from home for the rest of the day.”
“Actually, there’s something you can do before you leave,” Stella answers, catching me off-guard. “Mrs. Bunting, do you have a love contract handy?”
My heart catapults upward and slaps against my brain. “What are you doing?”
“I’m signing it. We’re signing it.”
By the grace of God, I manage to keep from kneeling at her feet and weeping with gratitude. I can’t, though. I can’t accept what she’s offering until it’s right. Until it’s good for her. “Not because of what I did here today, Stella. Not because you feel obligated—”
“No. No, it’s not that at all. I don’t feel obligated. I didn’t take the earrings. And what you said, about the windows. You were right. Maybe I haven’t quite earned my right to be here yet, but I am. I’m doing it.” She wets her lips, steps a little closer to me. Enough to make me lightheaded. “I want to sign the papers because…if you believe that much in me, enough to know I’m better than my past, then I can believe that much in us. I can try my best.”
Oh boy. I’m heading down the hill in that wheelbarrow again, but this time there’s no grassy field full of dandelions to land in. I just keep going and going until I’m free falling without an end in sight. For Stella. “You try for me and I’ll do the rest,” I manage, wrapping my arms around her, my damn heart knocking so loudly they can hear it in Staten Island.