Page 15 of Broken Promises

“Hi, I’m Lucy, and I’m here for my volunteer shift.”

The woman looked me up and down with a frown before she said, “You’re late.”

I grimaced. I didn’t want to start on the wrong foot, or it would be a long two hours. I also didn’t want to let down my mom. She counted on me to do this.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find the tent. I’m happy to stay longer if you would like.”

The woman said nothing but motioned for me to follow her. “You can cut the onions and green peppers for the sandwiches. Cut them into long slices, and then Johanna will cook them with sausages for the sandwiches.” The woman gestured to several overflowing baskets of green peppers and onions. My eyes practically bugged out of my head.

“You need all of these cut?” I asked. That seemed like a lot of work for a two-hour shift.

“Whatever you don’t cut will be the next person’s job. We’re the most popular tent, and we geta lotof business.” The woman puffed out her chest in pride.

“Okay, then, I guess I will just get started.” The woman, who I still didn’t know the name of, passed me an apron, and I put it on before I got to work.

I started cutting an assortment of onions and green peppers, and it wasn’t long before the onions had tears rolling down my face. I wiped them away using the bottom of my

apron, but that only made my eyes worse.

“God, I hate onions!” I grumbled. Behind me, Johanna chuckled.

“Tell me about it. That’s why we have the newer volunteers do it,” she commented, and I found myself envious of the clarity of her vision. Especially as my eyes continued to tear up, causing me to lose sight of what I was doing.

I saw it before I felt it happen—the sharp pain that was quickly followed by red liquid soaking my pale skin. I tried to blink the tears away to assess the damage and keep my fingers away from the food.

“Shit!” I swore, and both Johanna and Grouchy Pants approached me.

“What happened?” the older woman asked. It would’ve been helpful to know her name at this point.

“I cut my finger. I’ll be fin?—”

“You need to get that looked at,” Johanna interrupted, “We can’t have you bleeding all over the food.”

“I can put a glove on and have it looked at later,” I retorted, though the sting quickly spread through my hand. “I want to finish cutting these.”

“No one will want to see blood, even in a glove.” The older woman’s tone was a little softer as I clutched my wounded finger.

“How bad is it?” I asked them, and she gave me what I could only describe as a smile for the first time since I came here. Johanna inspected it closer.

“It’s not too bad. The med tent is just over there. Have it looked at and bandaged, and then you can come back and finish your shift. The food tents open in twenty minutes. That will be plenty of time for you to come back. Plus, Margaret, can cut while you are gone.”

Margaret, formerly known as Grouchy Pants, grunted and turned away, so I assumed she wanted me to get this done as quickly as possible. That was one thing we agreed on.

I didn’t bother to take my apron off as I made my way to the med-tent. My finger hurt and looked worse than it was, but I was sure I’d forget all about it once it was bandaged. At least the onions were no longer assaulting my eyes.

I entered the tent, which was set up like a makeshift hospital, with a few reclining-type chairs on the left side and supplies on the right wall. Many tourists weren’t used to the heat, which was the main reason the tent was there.

“Hey, Luce,” a familiar voice called out. I turned to my left to see Luke sitting on a stool. Fuck, I guess my tactics to avoid him had failed me today. “What brings you here?” he asked, concern showing across his face as his eyes drifted lower.

“I was cutting food, and my knife slipped. I ended up cutting my finger. The better question is, what are you doing here?” I asked him in return as I approached his spot. I may as well have him get it done now. If I were to avoid him, it would only make things more awkward. “Do you have medical experience?”

“I did some EMT work in college,” he explained as he retrieved his supplies, still looking worried. “I’ll get you bandaged up. Wait, are you crying?”

“No, the onions are potent suckers.” I tried wiping my eyes with my apron, but that made it much worse. It was too late by the time I realized the apron likely had onion juice on it, and I smeared it all over my eyes. “They feel like they are on fire right now.”

“Here, let’s rinse your eyes. We have an eye wash station over here. Come on.” Luke

held out his hand to help me up. I took his hand, his warmth seeping into me. He led me

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