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Gwen

S he needed sour worms.

The craving had hit her the moment she had finished reading the scroll, but before the Antiquarium had shunted her from the room.

Gwen hadn’t realized it had done it until the wind got knocked out of her, back slamming into a brick wall in the alley.

That had fucking hurt.

Her vision blurred, and for a moment, she swore the wall of the antique shop slowly solidified.

By the time her vision cleared, Gwen had managed to get to her feet.

She collected her bag—which thankfully had slammed through layers of wall with her—and shoved the scroll inside.

Once securely on her back, Gwen had hurried out of there.

Sour worms.

It was better to think about that particular craving than the alternative.

Preferable to feel the sweat build on her skin as she skated beneath the hot sky.

Gwen took advantage of the small inclines and used sidewalks she knew were newer.

Anything to get her to her destination as fast as she could.

Sour worms.

The thought buzzed in her mind—a purposeful distraction as Gwen finally made it to the familiar parking lot.

It was past dinnertime, but the sun wouldn’t set for another few hours.

Which meant Gwen could linger at the pharmacy if she wanted.

At least, that had been the plan until Gwen saw it.

Neutral red and yellow, the giant signs in the front door of Master Basting made Gwen’s eyes go wide.

It wasn’t supposed to happen now, not so soon!

With a rush, she skated inside, eyes darting for anyone she knew.

Upon spotting Catie at the register, Gwen flew to the end of the conveyor belt, making the younger woman jump.

“Why are there ‘Going Out of Business’ signs in the front windows?” Gwen demanded.

Catie looked taken aback, and Gwen could feel the embarrassment and confusion radiating off the younger woman.

Her eyes awkwardly avoided looking at Gwen below her neck, but Catie appeared to have collected her thoughts.

“We found out yesterday afternoon. Mary got an email from corporate. The company is losing money,” Catie explained.

“Wha—they can’t do that. They can’t just shut this place down!” Gwen protested.

“We have three months to put in transfers,” Catie offered.

“But…”

“Hey,” George said as he approached with a fresh cash drawer in hand.

“Gwen—cute outfit—what’s going on?”

“Thank you,” she replied.

“I made it myself. ”

“Gwen just found out Master Basting is going out of business,” Catie supplied.

George winced as he balanced the cash drawer with one arm, pulling out a set of keys to open the register.

“I–I knew things were bad. I thought there was more time to fix it! George, did you know?” Gwen asked.

Mary might have confided in Gwen, but she was still a simple employee.

If anyone knew how bad things were, it would be George.

He was management, after all.

“I knew the store was in rough shape.” He dropped the drawer and promptly closed the register, removing the key and attaching it back to his belt.

“Mary was trying to keep it under wraps because she thought we had more time, too. I only found out about the email an hour or two before the notice went out.”

The melancholy that lingered around George told Gwen that he wasn’t lying.

He’d been just as surprised as everyone, it seemed.

Still, Gwen couldn’t understand how corporate could have pulled this punch so unexpectedly.

“We have three months before the store shuts down completely,” George continued as he rested his hand on the bagging area of the register.

“Corporate said we can transfer. I’ve already put a request for Lake Stevens. It’s closer to my house, anyway.”

“I’m going to ask Mary if I can transfer to Lynnwood. My boyfriend lives there, and if I stay a couple nights, it won’t be too bad,” Catie added.

Disappointment.

Melancholy.

Sadness.

Gwen’s knuckles ached, the familiar pain in her joints pulling her away from the emotions her coworkers were feeling.

Why weren’t they angry?

There was no guarantee that their transfers would go through.

It was summer, for fuck’s sake, no hobby store was hiring until October.

So, why—

“But you should be okay, right, Gwen?” Catie inquired.

“Me?”

Truthfully, Gwen hadn’t gone that far.

Financially, Gwen supposed she could survive on her own.

She had at least a year’s worth of savings in her account, and as long as her hands didn’t crap out on her, Gwen could churn out enough dolls to pay the bills for longer.

Not if. When they crap out on me.

“Yeah, don’t you have family you can lean on?” Catie continued, oblivious to Gwen’s confusion.

“Sierra said you have a large family, which is great considering you’re expecting and—”

“Excuse me, I’m what now?! ”

Gwen wouldn’t be surprised if her eyes didn’t pop out of her head in that single moment.

There was no way that Catie had said what Gwen thought she heard.

Because to imply as much would mean—

“You’re expecting?”

The emotion from Catie was confusion, which meant she really believed that Gwen was—

“The fuck I’m not!” Gwen blurted.

The embarrassment that exploded from Catie was strong enough to nearly overshadow George’s surprise.

It paled in comparison to the anger bubbling in Gwen’s stomach.

“I am so sorry—”

“Who told you I was pregnant?!”

Catie flinched, “Sierra said you were sick the other day, and that—”

“Oh, not this again,” George murmured under his breath .

“Sierra. Sierra said I was pregnant?” Gwen stared at the pair, incredulously.

What in the fucked-up HR violation?

!

Catie bit her lip, but Gwen knew.

Emotions didn’t lie, despite what people said with their mouths.

She could feel Catie’s shame, her insecurity and minuscule remorse.

George was still stuck in surprise, but there was a growing sense of awkwardness clearly indicating that he did not want to be there right now.

“I was sick, I ate something that made my stomach upset! Why the hell would she think I was pregnant?!” she ranted, making small circles on her skates in front of the register.

When neither spoke, Gwen swore she could feel a blood vessel explode in her eye.

Weren’t there any rules about gossip at work?

! More importantly, why would Sierra spread a rumor like that about her?

She barely spoke the mandatory words needed to get through a conversation with her, so why—

“Maybe because you slept with Tom?” Catie quietly supplied.

Gwen froze, her back toward the pair.

Her hands paled beneath the fluorescent lights, familiar blue veins suddenly prominent.

Slowly, she turned her head toward Catie.

“I did what now?”

George rolled his eyes when Catie clammed up.

“Supposedly, Tom told some of the delivery guys that you two hooked up,” George supplied.

“I had to pull him into the office and talk to him about inappropriate conduct at work. I don’t care who you sleep with—”

“I didn’t sleep with him,” Gwen hissed.

“I didn’t say you did, I’m just telling you what happened,” George explained.

“You’re a decent worker, Gwen. You’re quiet, mostly keep to yourself. Personally, I’m glad you started changing, but a lot of people don’t like change and—”

“So, the solution is to gossip about them?! To spread lies ?!”

Of course this was happening.

Gwen was just too oblivious to have noticed.

Sierra was nice to everyone, but she wasn’t the first ‘nice girl’ to have crossed paths with Gwen.

The last nice girl was named Mallory, and she had thoroughly ruined Gwen’s reputation among her coworkers.

And that was when Gwen was better at pretending like everything was okay.

When she could smile and give her coworkers an encouraging word.

Back when she could take the verbal lashing of a stressed-out businessman, who just wanted his two espresso shots and why was it taking so long?

Gwen wasn’t the same woman she was back then.

She had followed the script, but it felt hollow.

There was nothing left of her to give to retail, so Gwen had survived.

Done whatever she could to make it day by day, all the while the quiet thought in the back of her head had been screaming.

I can’t keep doing this.

Ambrosius had been right about her.

He was right about humans.

They really are loathsome.

“Look, Gwen—”

She ignored George, abruptly leaning across the conveyor belt to snatch the intercom phone from behind Catie’s shoulder.

Gwen leaned back, cord taut as she brought the receiver to her mouth and pressed the button.

“Attention Master Basting shoppers! This is Gwendolyn A. Gooch, your favorite employee here again to tell you all about our fabulous going out of business steals!” Gwen grinned, lip smearing along the intercom receiver.

“Let’s start with the Frame Department! Tonight, only you can get a great deal on frames, two for one! Our handy dandy frame expert, Tom, will be happy to answer all your questions. Hey, Tom, if I wanted to buy four frames, how many women would you have to lie about fucking in order for you to feel good about yourself?”

Somewhere within the store, Gwen could hear a loud gasp.

“Like, four? I’m bad with numbers, maybe eight? It is a two for one deal after all! Speaking of two for one, let’s give it up for our second favorite cashier, Sierra! See, Sierra’s a summer hire, but she runs around like she knows everything. Even when a complete stranger is expecting! Who knew! She must be psychic! After all, only a fucking lying asshole would spread a rumor about their coworker being pregnant, right?!”

Gwen didn’t need to look at her coworkers to tell they were uncomfortable.

She could feel it. Not just from them, but from every person in the entire store.

Gwen had never been able to feel this vastly before, but it was like the more she spoke, the more the world around her had started to open up.

There were at least thirteen people in the store right now, including Sierra and Tom.

“I’m only going to say this once. I am not pregnant and I never slept with anyone who works here. Tom, you’re a shitty coworker. You clearly don’t want to be here, and it was really fucking obvious that you were staring at my tits. And as for you, Sierra, whatever drama high you’re chasing, you can leave me out of it. I hope you have the life you deserve.”

Gwen went to put the intercom back, before thinking better of it.

She brought the receiver back to her mouth.

“Also, fuck y’all for not saying anything to me. You might not have started these rumors, but you fucking participated and let it go on. Just because I’m weird doesn’t mean I’m not worthy of basic human decency, you cunts . And yeah, I quit.”

This time, Gwen dropped the intercom, and it barely missed the scratched linoleum floor.

When the music came back on, it sounded incredibly loud in the wake of Gwen’s impromptu message.

The bass rumbled in her ears as she rolled from the register toward the front door.

Her hands were inflamed, fingers hot as she brought them together to rub over her knuckles.

Gwen had just passed the window of her now old job when someone called her name.

Walking from the double doors of Master Basting was Dr. Monday.

He looked different out of his dentist uniform.

Dressed in simple cutoff jeans and a henley shirt.

His sneakers were very clean, new most likely.

Still handsome.

“Hey,” he said, looking almost sheepish, with his hands in his front pockets.

“Are you okay?”

The realization that Dr. Monday had been in the store when she had lost her shit should have left Gwen mortified.

But the anger was still there, making her skin flushed and the ache for sour worms worse.

“I will be,” Gwen replied.

“I just need to buy some junk food and go home.”

“Of course,” Dr. Monday said.

“I…”

He still smelled like apple pie, but Gwen couldn’t sense anything negative from him.

Just a burst of confusion that Gwen couldn’t blame him for.

“Good luck,” he said, sounding sincere.

“I hope whatever you do next is the thing you really wanna do.”

She stared at him.

“Me too.”

That evening, Gwen ate sour worms.

She left her backpack stuffed beneath her work desk.