Page 1 of The Grump’s Assistant

JUNIPER

“ H ow’d you do for tips tonight?” Gabby asks.

I grab the bills out of my apron pocket, leafing through them and frowning. Fifty bucks. My stomach drops and I get dizzy just thinking about the bills piling up at home. That’s not my coworker’s problem though, so I do what I always do. Paste on a smile and pretend everything is okay.

“Every little bit helps, right?” I say cheerfully as I gather my things from the employee locker room.

Gabby nods and sighs, folding her meager tip money up and shoving it into her purse. “That’s true. Have you heard anything about switching to the morning shift? Tips are way better, especially on the weekends.”

“Not yet, but hopefully soon.” My voice is chipper, but my chest is growing tighter by the second. I put in my request for a shift change weeks ago, but Ron, the owner of Big Ron’s Diner, hasn’t acknowledged it.

I was counting on getting on a new schedule, not only for better tips, but so I can be there for my mom during the night. She’s battling lymphoma, which weakens her immune system, making her vulnerable to all kinds of infections and illnesses. As if cancer in itself isn’t enough.

We’re saving up for radiation treatment, but it’s going to take years at this rate to get the money we need. I don’t know if Mom has that much time.

“You okay?” Gabby’s voice and soft hand on my shoulder brings me back into the present.

My co-worker puts on a frosty front for most people, but just beneath the surface is a genuine warmth few get to experience.

When Gabby cares for someone, she’s all in.

It just might take a bit to break down those walls.

“Yeah, of course,” I say with a smile. “Just tired. You know how these graveyard shifts are.”

She nods, but her beautiful emerald eyes see right through me. “Here,” she says, taking half of her tip money and shoving it into my hand. “You helped me out with a few of my tables tonight. You deserve it.”

“Absolutely not! You need the money just as much as I do.”

“Take it,” Gabby insists. “We’re all just trying to survive out here, yeah? I can’t do much, but I can spare twenty bucks. Let me help.”

I blink away tears and nod, adding her tip money to my own. “Thank you,” I tell her sincerely. “One day you’re going to have to let someone help you for a change.”

Gabby furrows her brow before putting on her coat. “I don’t need any help. I’ve been fine on my own for years now.” She tips her chin up as if to prove she’s conquered loneliness once and for all. Just like she saw through me, I can see through the lie she tells herself and others.

“Maybe it’s time to raise the bar from fine to good ? Maybe even happy ?”

My friend stares at me, her green eyes shadowed in thought. For one brief moment, she lets me see her heart. Without speaking a word, I know exactly what she’s thinking. Gabby doesn’t know what happiness feels like, so how can she hope for something she’s never experienced?

As quickly as it appeared, the crack in her armor closes.

“Happy?” she repeats. “I can’t afford happiness on this paycheck.”

I give her a quick hug, catching her off-guard. “Happiness doesn’t have a price tag,” I whisper. “It comes from being content with yourself.”

Gabby clears her throat and steps away from me, zipping up her coat and shoving her hands in her pockets.

She’s retreating into herself, away from me, away from people who want good things for her.

I wish she’d let more people see her softer side, though I understand the need to wear independence as a shield.

We say our goodbyes and I thank her again for her generosity. Gabby doesn’t acknowledge it, of course, but I want her to hear my gratitude all the same.

I step outside, breathing in the early morning air of the city. I take the hair tie out of my hair and let the red curls spring free and fall over my shoulders. Massaging my temples, I inhale a few times, bracing myself for the day ahead.

I just got off an eight-hour shift at Big Ron’s Diner, ten p.m. to six a.m. It’s a crappy shift, with the diner filled with either drunk people wanting something greasy or truckers looking for a cup of coffee and pie.

Neither group tips very well unless you’re flirty and skinny.

Me? Well, my tips speak for themselves. I’m not flirty, and I’m certainly not skinny.

I want nothing more than to collapse into bed and cocoon myself in blankets, but that will have to wait. Right now, I’m on my way to Brooklyn to meet a friend’s cousin’s girlfriend to see if I can buy her phone. This was the only time our schedules lined up to meet.

Being broke in New York City means taking advantage of all the connections you have to get cheap and free things.

And right now, I need a phone. Mine went for a swim in the sink one night when I was doing dishes.

I’ve had a burner phone for a few weeks, but I need something permanent, especially since I’ll be making appointments and coordinating doctor visits.

I shove down the anxious thoughts, knowing all my problems will still be there later this afternoon when I’m staring up at my ceiling, begging for sleep to come.

Pushing my way through the mob of early morning commuters, I make it to the bus stop just in time to catch a ride to Brooklyn.

I’m supposed to meet Jennifer at her favorite bakery, The Mad Batter.

We worked out a deal for me to purchase her phone for a hundred dollars, and she’d keep it on her plan until the end of the month so I can deal with the transfer and other things later.

Normally, I’d be skeptical of such an offer, but I know her. Kind of. I mean, I’ve never met her, but she’s connected through the grapevine to other people I know, so that has to mean something, right? God, I hope it’s not too good of a deal to be true.

I arrive at The Mad Batter just after six-thirty. The vibe in here is eclectic and fun, with a checkered floor, a few cuckoo clocks, an assortment of teacups, and mismatched tables and chairs. It’s a more refined version of Alice in Wonderland, and I love it.

“I’ve got another early bird this morning!” the woman behind the counter says by way of greeting. She’s absolutely gorgeous with midnight black hair and wide hazel eyes. “Oh, I don’t recognize you.” A warm, genuine smile spreads across her face. “Welcome to The Mad Batter, I’m the owner, Sienna.”

“I’m—”

“Juniper?” another voice sounds from behind me.

I turn to see a leggy blonde in booty shorts and a tight tank top. She’s adorned with huge designer sunglasses, bright red lips, and what appear to be real diamond studs in her ears.

“That’s me. Are you Jennifer?”

The woman nods.

“Aw, Juniper and Jennifer! I love it,” Sienna says from behind the counter. I notice she has a gorgeous sleeve of tattoos. I wish I were brave enough to get beautiful ink like hers. “What can I get you ladies this morning?”

Jennifer steps right up to the counter and orders some over-the-top coffee beverage with more modifiers than I even knew existed.

I palm the tip money I got from my shift, not liking the idea of using it on an expensive beverage or bakery item.

I’m sure they are worth every penny, but I don’t have a lot of pennies to spare these days.

“And for you?” Sienna asks.

I look down at the bills in my hand, and then peruse the menu, looking for the cheapest thing. “I’ll have a small mug of black coffee.”

Sienna lifts an eyebrow, as if she knows I really want every single item in the bakery case, but she doesn’t say anything as she turns to get my drink.

“First cup is on the house,” Sienna says, sliding the mug across the counter.

“What? No, I can pay,” I insist.

“Nope,” Sienna retorts with a smile. “Oh! I almost forgot. First timers get a free pastry with their coffee.” I’m about to protest, but Sienna cuts me off. “Either you pick which one you want or I’ll pick for you.”

I narrow my eyes at her, but then grin. “The strawberries and cream scone sounds amazing,” I reply. Sienna nods approvingly. “Thank you so much. I’ll leave a tip,” I say as I reach into my pocket for cash.

“No tips since I’m the owner. If you come back and see one of the other workers, then we definitely encourage tipping. Unless it’s a tall guy with brown hair and a mischievous smile. He’s my husband, and he’s not hurting for money.”

“Talking about me again, kitten?” The deep voice comes from somewhere back in the kitchen. It has an undertone of laughter to it, making Sienna roll her eyes and grin.

“Mostly good things, I promise!” she shouts back.

I chuckle and thank her again before sitting down at the table Jennifer selected. The phone I’m purchasing is lying on the table, along with the charger. She’s typing away on a different phone, one studded with rhinestones.

“So, we good? One hundred is what Taylor told Scott, who told me.” She barely looks up from her screen as she talks to me.

“Yes, one hundred for the phone. And, um, are you able to keep me on your plan until the end of the month?” I hate asking, but that was a huge draw for me. Other than the cheap iPhone, of course.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you want. No big deal. I just need to get away from it all, you know?” Jennifer says dramatically.

“Daddy won’t pay for my spring break since I skipped out on a job he lined up for me.

But, like, what did he expect? I can’t work in an office .

” The look of disgust twisting up her face is almost comical.

“I just need to find something I’m passionate about.

Or some one .” Jennifer giggles. “Hence spring break. This right here,” she says, holding up the phone she’s selling, “is gas money for the week.” She puffs out her chest as if she’s very proud of her scheming ways.

I won’t ruin it for her, or myself, by telling her she could probably sell it for three times the amount I’m about to pay.

“Well, thank you so much for?—”