But as she handed the cashier her card, the woman laughed. “Unbelievable. We’re all waiting for this?”
That’s when the cashier looked up.
She was maybe fifty. Her eyes landed on Mom’s face. And she froze.
“What’s your name?”
Mom looked confused. “Margaret.”
The cashier immediately reached beneath the counter. Click. Her register locked.
Then she turned off the conveyor belt.
“Nobody leaves.”
The rude woman scoffed. “Are you serious?”
But the cashier wasn’t even looking at her anymore. She called the store manager and whispered something I couldn’t hear.
Two minutes later, he arrived carrying an old cardboard box from the office.
He set it on the counter, looked at my mother, and his eyes filled with tears.
“We’ve been keeping this for you,” he said, “for nineteen years.”
PART 2
