Then they were moving on, back into the elevator, back onto what Mr. Lamb called The Floor, and shoppers and browsers were roaming the aisles, sitting in the sushi and espresso bars, and Shannon was thinking how lucky she was to have been hired by The Store.
"That's it for now," Mr. Lamb said. "There'll be a week's worth of training classes -- how to work the cash registers, handle customers and the like -- then there'll be a two-week probation period, then you'll be in." He handed her a photocopied schedule of training classes. "Your first class is tonight, in the downstairs training room. Be there or be square."
"Uh, thank you," she said.
He grinned. "Thank your sister." He looked her over, starting at her feet, moving up to her hair, then nodded, satisfied. "I think you'll be a model Store employee."
"I'll try," she said.
He started to walk back behind the Customer Service counter, then stopped and turned at the last minute. "A word of advice?" he said. "Lose the baby fat.
You're a little chubby. We don't like to have fat bitches working for The Store.
Not a good public image."
He smiled, waved, then stepped behind the counter and disappeared into an office.
Fat bitches?
She was shocked, not sure how to respond, not sure even what she felt. It had been said so offhandedly, so casually, that she was not even sure she'd heard him correctly.
No. She knew she had.
It was an unprofessional thing to say. That was her first response. A person in a position of authority shouldn't talk like that, shouldn't use words like that.
Her second response was to walk over to Women's Clothing and find a mirror.
Baby fat.
Chubby.
Was she really overweight? He'd zeroed in on that, offered it without being asked, practically ordered her to lose weight if she wanted to keep this job, so obviously it wasn't just a matter of her being paranoid, wasn't just a matter of perception. She had a problem.
She felt more defiant than hurt, more angry than embarrassed, but then she saw herself in the mirror, and all of those self-preservation instincts fled.
He was right.
She turned to the left, turned to the right, looked at her backside over her shoulder.
She'd have to stop eating so much. Her mom would throw a fit, give her that anorexia/bulimia lecture, but she'd stick to her guns this time.
It had been confirmed by a third party.
She was fat.
"May I be of assistance?"
She turned to see a trim middle-aged woman in a Store uniform smiling helpfully at her.
"No," she said. "Thanks."
She turned, walked down the main aisle toward the entrance.
That was it. She'd skip lunch today.
Maybe dinner.
She walked through the front doors.
Maybe she'd cut out breakfasts entirely.
EIGHTEEN
1
The town was broke.
For the first time since Bill had begun attending meetings, the council chambers were full, all of the seats taken. Ben had really played this up in the paper, had even sent Trudy out to interview Tyler Calhoun, the president of the chamber of commerce, and Leslie Jones, their county supervisor, about what would happen to the town and the county if Juniper was forced to declare bankruptcy.
The articles had obviously stimulated quite a bit of interest among the townspeople and had spurred many of them into attending tonight's meeting.
Bill sat in his usual seat, next to Ben, who was grinning hugely. "Quite a turnout, huh?"
"You're taking credit for it?"
"Of course."
"It is pretty impressive," Bill admitted.
"Don't get your hopes up yet. I've been eavesdropping on the conversations behind me, and we've got some staunch Store supporters back there. They're not all disgruntled citizens."
"But they can't be happy with the idea of bankruptcy."
The meeting was called to order before Ben could respond, and Bill sat silently along with everyone else as the rote procedural requirements were met and the council debated and voted on a host of trivial issues.
Discussion of the town budget was the last item on the agenda, and the mayor had obviously hoped that the audience would thin out by that time, that at least some of the people would go home, but although it was now after nine, not a soul had left the council chambers and the townspeople sat expectantly, waiting to hear about the state of Juniper's finances.
The mayor glanced around at his colleagues on the council, then put his hand over the microphone in front of him and whispered something to Bill Reid before addressing the chamber. "As you are all probably aware, the council received an updated report this week from Juniper's financial manager, and the prognosis for the new fiscal year is not good. In fact, it is worse than we'd feared. In an effort to lure The Store to Juniper, we offered tax and other incentives to the corporation that, we are now contractually obligated to deliver. Most of these involve the widening of streets and general redevelopment of the area immediately adjacent to The Store. And while this greatly improves our bond rating and the long-term economic outlook of the town, the net result is that in the short run, despite our belt-tightening, we are continuing to experience a revenue shortfall."
He cleared his throat. "Simply stated, we're on the verge of bankruptcy."
A murmur passed through the audience.
"Now, it's not as bad as the papers have been saying," the mayor promised.
He glanced over at Ben. "No offense."
Ben grinned. "None taken."
"The situation is serious. I won't kid you about that. But it's not the end of the world. In fact, we've been studying the situation all week, and it may even be a blessing in disguise. I think we have the opportunity now to reinvent our local government, to make it leaner and meaner --"
"It can't get much meaner!" someone called out.
The council members laughed along with everyone else. "Now, now," the mayor said, chuckling. "We're all in this together. Let's not start pointing fingers. As I said, we have a real opportunity here to not just alleviate this temporary fiscal crisis but to correct the bedrock structural problems that are at the root of it."
"Hold on to your hats," Ben whispered.
"We have already begun looking at outsourcing or privatizing nonessential programs and services. Our agreement with The Store in regard to park maintenance has turned out to be not only extremely successful but cost effective, and I think it should serve as a model for our future endeavors. We have already raised certain user fees and have cut back on work hours, eliminating all overtime pay, but we still have a large shortfall to make up, and these baby steps are not going to do it. The town's largest single expense is personneclass="underline" salaries and benefits. I propose that we downgrade our full-time clerical and support staff to part-time or half-time, thus eliminating health insurance and retirement expenses. We should also look at the possibility of contracting out more than just nonessential services."
There was an angry undercurrent to the whispered reactions of the audience.
"Good solution," Ben said. "Put even more people out of work."
"Amen," a woman behind him added.
The mayor frowned. "We will be opening the floor to public comment in a moment. First, do any of the council members wish to address this issue?"
"I think it's an unfortunate but necessary step," Bill Reid said.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures."
"We should also examine the option of using volunteers for some jobs,"
Dick Wise stated. "We have a wealth of unpooled talent in this town that we could take advantage of. And volunteerism is an American tradition. Our country was founded on the idea of a volunteer government."
The other two council members said nothing. Hunter Palmyra shook his head.