Free 0451471040 by Kimberly Lang Page B

exactly. “Um, thank you?”
    “You’re a great Molly, though,” she said with a smile. “Your grandmother gave you the perfect nickname.”
    “Thanks.”
    Sam wiped her hands on a towel, then walked over to the little counter area Molly used as an office during the day because her real office in the back was both claustrophobic and a disaster of Superfund proportions. “You know, to be honest, I don’t really feel like a Sam or a Samantha,” she said.
    “What’s your middle name?” It hadn’t been on the paperwork.
    “Diane.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m definitely not a Diane. I don’t feel like I’m a Dee or a Di, either.”
    “What do you feel like, then?”
    Sam thought for a minute. “A Chloe, maybe.” She laughed. “But I don’t see how I could pull that off. Even if I legally changed my name, it’d be too much trouble to get anyone around here to switch.” She laughed. “I’d have to move somewhere else and start from scratch.”
    Don’t knock it till you try it, honey. “Well, the slide from Marley to Molly isn’t that far. Sam to Chloe is a leap.”
    Sam shrugged. “I guess I’m stuck with Sam, then.”
    “If it makes a difference, I think you make a great Sam.”
    “Thanks, Marley.”
    Her stomach clenched. “Don’t call me that.” As hard as she tried to keep her voice light and teasing, even she could hear the strain and the snap underneath. “It makes me think of Jacob Marley from A Christmas Carol ,” she said with a small laugh, trying to smooth it over . “I really don’t want ghostly visitations screwing up a good night’s sleep.”
    “Especially since you come in so early.”
    “Exactly.”
    Sam sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “So what can I do now?”
    Honestly, there wasn’t much for her to do right now. The few customers currently in the place were fine, and Sam had already straightened and wiped and swept. The girl either had endless energy or was trying to impress in these early days. Molly normally did paperwork during these lulls, but that wasn’t something for Sam to help with—yet. Jane would sometimes knit or do a crossword puzzle when things got really slow, but somehow that felt like the wrong message to send in Sam’s first week on the job.
    God knew there were half a dozen things she could be doing, but Molly couldn’t leave Sam alone just yet, simply because she might need help with a complicated order. She could show Sam how to do something like take apart and clean the machines, but while that would be helpful for Sam, it would only put Molly further behind today.
    “I guess just make sure everything is stocked, check the milk pitchers—”
    “I already did.” Sam tapped the folder next to Molly marked “Children’s Fair.” “I could help you with that, if you need me to. Tate told me how Mrs. Kennedy kind of dumped it on you without warning.”
    “Thanks, but that wouldn’t be fair to you. It’s not in your job description.”
    Sam shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve helped with it before. Not in the last few years, admittedly, because I wasn’t here.”
    And that, Molly knew, was because she’d moved to Gulfport with her now ex-husband. It wasn’t a topic Sam had broached with her, but it wasn’t exactly a secret, either. She wasn’t going to go there, though. It wasn’t her business, and she didn’t know Sam all that well, but she could still sympathize. At least Sam had realized her mistake quickly and had been able to get out before investing years into a rotten marriage. “Really?”
    “Of course. I had to volunteer somewhere, and I like kids.”
    “I meant . . . you really wouldn’t mind helping me with this?”
    “Oh, sure. I’ve got to do something, ’cause I don’t want to just stand around. I know you’re not paying me to do that. And since I figure I’ll need to be here the day of, at least I can say I did something to help.”
    This girl truly is a godsend. Molly handed her the phone.