Page 8 of Not On the Agenda

Not much had changed in the twenty-plus years since my parents opened the store.

The produce aisle was still bursting with fresh fruits and vegetables, bought each day from a family friend whose garden farm had turned into his own acre-sized plot. The little bakery hid behind a corner, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the aisles.

I reached the back of the store, my stomach grumbling, and walked into the staff room.

“Frankie!

Vanessa was on me in a second, startling me with a massive bear hug that almost splintered my bones.

“Morning, Vanessa,” I mumbled, the air squeezed out of my lungs.

She set me down and grabbed my shoulders, her dark eyes brimming with concern. “How’re you doin’?” she asked, the colorful beads in her hair falling forward as she looked down at me. “How’s Mom and Dad?”

“Mom is stable,” I explained, stuffing my purse and jacket inside my locker. “Dad is… well, you know him. He hasn’t eaten and I’d bet he hasn’t slept either.”

Vanessa’s frown deepened.

“I heard about the sale,” she said, her shoulders drooping a little. “What are they gonna do once she’s discharged?”

“After it happened,” I told her, taking a seat on the nearby sofa, “they sold their shares to pay for Mom’s medical treatment. And the company that’s been circling us for years now bought them up in an instant. So we’re officially under new management.”

“What happens if…”

Vanessa trailed off but I knew what she meant.

“If the money runs out?” I finished for her. She nodded and I sighed, anxiety bubbling in my gut. “They’ll find jobs elsewhere. Dad said he’d go back into the workforce so Mom wouldn’t have to, but she’s stubborn.”

“And the store?”

“We’ll be at the mercy of whoever walks through that door today.” I sighed, the full weight of it nearly crushing me. “Once everyone gets here, I want us all in the front of the store. We need to greet the new boss, but I want to present a united front. Whatever happens today, it’s us against management.”

“You sound like we’re preparing for war.” Vanessa chuckled. “For all you know, the new boss is a lovely person who shares your parents’ goals.”

“Or they’re a rich megalomaniac who wants to change the store into some quick-mart variation, and I won’t let that happen,” I countered.

Vanessa shrugged, grabbing her name tag and pinning it to the front of her shirt. “They might surprise you,” she offered. “But in the meantime, how about I make us some coffee before the store opens?”

“You always were my favorite,” I said with a wink.

She rolled her eyes and waved me off, motioning for me to follow her.

“Morning, Frankie!”

I glanced up and spotted a few of the other employees, pulling on their aprons with wide smiles.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Vanessa grumbled, her hands on her hips. I hid a chuckle as Blanca and Dean scrambled to greet her as well. “Whatever, coffee?”

We all huddled around Vanessa’s coffee station, the scent of brewed coffee waking us up.

“Cappuccino for Frankie,” Vanessa said after a few minutes, handing me my drink. “And lattes for Dean and Blanca.”

“Thanks, Vee,” I said appreciatively, taking a sip of my coffee. I’d need all the caffeine my body could take to get through the day.

“So, what’s the news on your mom, Frankie?”

I set my cup down and turned to the twins who wore matching expressions of worry.

“She’s stable for now,” I told them. “Thanks for asking. But there’s something else I need to talk to you about. Everyone, preferably, when they get in.”

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