Free Maine Squeeze by Catherine Clark Page B

register, so they wouldn’t be in the way. I shook the first one out and laid it on the counter, then neatly folded it into a small square, with the Bobb’s logo showing above the pocket.
    When I finished folding the first stack, I crouched down to put them into the glass display case. I was doing some rearranging when someone else walked behind the counter and legs slammed into my shoulder. “Ow!” I cried.
    â€œSorry!” a voice above me said. Evan reached down and put his hand on my shoulder. “Colleen, you okay?”
    I pushed his hand away and resisted the urge to spit on his sandals before standing up. “I’m fine.”
    â€œHow was everything today?” Evan asked as he ran through a credit card for a customer.
    Everything was fine, I thought, pulling myself to my feet, until you showed up .
    â€œGreat. Delicious,” the man said. “We’ll definitely be back.” After he’d signed the receipt, and after he and his family left the restaurant, Evan leaned against the counter, watching me fold shirts for a second.
    â€œI can ring up the next person,” I said. “I mean, I’m here. I could have rung up the last person.”
    â€œI didn’t see you,” Evan said. “I didn’t think anyone was over here.”
    â€œYeah, right,” I murmured.
    â€œWhat—you think I’d intentionally crash into you? Why would I do that?”
    I shrugged and didn’t say anything. I tried to slide open the cabinet door closest to him so I could put the size small T-shirts away. But it wouldn’t open from the side I was on, so I looked up at him. “Do you mind? Moving?”
    He took a few steps to get around me, but he didn’t walk all the way out from behind the counter. In fact, he was standing about a foot away from me, giving me no room at all to work. “I don’t want to leave because someone might come up, and, you know, you are busy with those shirts. Busy busy busy.” He smiled at me.
    I let out a deep, annoyed sigh and just kept restocking the case, trying to get it done as quickly as I could, and also trying to ignore what it felt like to be in such close proximity to him again. He smelled the same as always. And I caught myself looking at his ankles again as I crouched down to pull out overstock from the bottom drawer. And then I started thinking about the time he came to my house for dinner last year and I played footsie with those ankles under the table. Or would that be “anklesie.” Whatever. Wrong, wrong, wrong to be thinking about it now.
    I couldn’t get those shirts folded quickly enough. As soon as I was done, I marched straight past him to Trudy’s back office and knocked on the door. “Trudy? Could I maybe change my schedule around?” I asked.
    â€œSorry. No changes for the first month,” she said.
    â€œThe first month ? Why?”
    â€œPeople need routine. A restaurant needs routine,” she said.
    Yes, but I need a routine that doesn’t involve seeing Evan every day, I thought. Couldn’t she be more sensitive?
    â€œWhy? Is there a problem?” Trudy asked.
    â€œYes. No—it’s fine,” I said. I closed her office door and went back down the hallway into the kitchen. Evan smiled at me as he walked past, carrying a tray of desserts out to the dining room.
    Drop them, I thought, staring at the tray. Drop them .
    After the lunch shift, Sam, Erica, and I headed down to the Landing. I was glad to be getting out of Bobb’s for a while, and away from Evan.
    The three of us were going to our weekly book club meeting with Haley—at least that’s what we said we were doing when anyone asked, and occasionally we did talk about what books we were reading. But in reality we were going down there to watch the ferry come in. Later on Friday afternoons was when it got crowded with tourists coming for the weekend. Haley and I had started out