10
It hardly seemed like it had been three weeks since Beth started working at Fishy Business. She studied the shelves in the storage area one last time. No more items to inventory.
Beth sneaked to the refrigerator and removed a plastic container from a paper bag. She crumpled the bag and tossed it in the trash. She took one last look at the container before closing the fridge door. Considering she’d followed her mom’s directions carefully, she hoped her attempt to recreate Mrs. Graham’s pistachio salad was successful.
It was time to add the final touches to the spreadsheet she created for Mark. Adjusting her hand on the mouse, she released a sigh. Maybe God caused her life to intersect with Mark again on purpose.
Tim joined her next to the computer—a bag of corn chips in one hand, a bottle of orange soda pop in the other. “We’re going to miss you. Are you sure we can’t keep you longer?”
She closed her spreadsheet. “Well, I do need a week to set up my classroom, but I’m sure I’ll stop by from time to time. Hopefully, after you stock the chum for the day.” It took all she had not to run from the fishy odor.
The door chimed, and Randy entered and waved.
Tim thumbed, pointing behind them, where Mark sat chatting with a customer. “Technically, he outranks us, so we don’t feel as if we can make jokes about his age, but you, on the other hand.” Tim winked.
She crossed her arms. “Oh, I see how it is.”
“Seriously, if we teased him, we’d get the look.”
“Oh, you mean the stare. Yeah, he got that from my dad.”
Tim’s eyes widened. “Really?”
She nodded. “I bet that look kept you guys in line when you were in the military.”
“You aren’t kidding.”
Mark came up behind them and glared. “Still does.”
His husky voice sent shockwaves through her.
“You were in the military?” Randy asked.
Mark folded his arms. “Yep. You?”
“Nope.” Randy said. “Army? Navy?”
“Marine Corp.” Mark wheeled closer.
“Mark served with my brother. Played football together.” Beth faced Mark. “Football, baseball, basketball. What didn’t you two play?”
Randy grinned. “Sounds like you’ve known each other a long time.”
“I guess my whole life really.” And yet she didn’t truly know him, inside and out. Like football—Beth knew Mark played but wasn’t sure what he liked best about the game.
“Mark, I have a question about this new shipment. Can you help me?” Tim asked.
Mark left with him, leaving Beth alone with Randy.
Randy set down his inventory clipboard. “Hey, I have that book I told you about.”
“Thanks.”
Randy held the book toward Beth. “You can borrow it, and I can get it back from you when I stop by next week.”
“That’s thoughtful of you, but I won’t be here. This is my last week working at Fishy Business.”
“That’s too bad.” Randy hung his head.
Beth grabbed the book. “But that gives me another reason to stop by soon and see all my friends.”
Tim and Mark joined her and Randy. “You better stop by,” Tim said.
“That’s right.” Mark smirked. “We’re all going to miss having the little Martindale around.”
“Little?” Beth stepped closer to him and leaned in. “I’m not exactly ten anymore.”
Mark threw up his hands in a defensive posture. “Whoa, take it easy. No one said you were.”
Beth cleared her throat. “Oh yeah? Then why am I the little Martindale?”
Mark shrugged. “You’re what? Five foot four?”
“Wait, my height? Oh…The little Martindale.” Heat rose up her cheeks. He hadn’t been teasing her about her age, or had he? Did he have any memories of her from high school, or had war injuries erased them? Only time would tell, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to wait to find out.