Page 24 of Eye on the Ball
His dad looked over at us, mildly annoyed. “Rutherford. We’ve talked about boundaries.”
The kid, who was maybe six—and burdened with the nameRutherford—gave his dad the same look of disbelief I did, but the man had already turned away. Stellar parenting, for sure.
I sighed. “Hey, kid. Want a lollipop?”
“Yes!” He shimmied down in a flash.
I pulled my jar of lollipops down off the shelf that also held Fluffy, our taxidermied-alligator shop mascot, and held it out. “Red, orange, or green?”
“Blue!”
“Red it is.” I handed it over. By then, the other kids in the store had locked their eyes on the candy jar and started advancing on me. I had a flashback to Jack’s TV show and suddenly felt like that gazelle running away from lions.
Since throwing the candy in the middle of the floor and shouting, “Let the Hunger Games begin!” felt like overkill, and none of them were older than six or seven, I stood my ground.
When the jar was almost empty, they all started chanting. “One more sucker! One more sucker!”
I wasn’t sure if the sucker in question was me, their parents, or the candy, but this wasn’t my first rodeo.
“Nope. One is enough.” I put the jar back on the shelf and thwarted a running leap one of the older girls made to retrieve it.
“Hey, parents! A little help here.” I smiled when I said it, but I was getting tired of these people, none of whom had even tried to buy anything yet.
The adults all ambled over to where I stood, surrounded by the pack of feral children.
“Is that candy gluten-free?” One woman inquired.
I gritted my teeth and held on to my patience. “Yep. No gluten. No nuts. No trans fats.”
Who knew that gluten-free lollipops were the key to this group’s wallets? The woman who’d asked bought a “darling” bracelet for two hundred dollars, and she didn’t even haggle. Then the rest of the group, not to be outdone, each bought progressively more expensive items from my jewelry case, a few antique toys for the kids, and Rutherford’s dad even took the drunk frogs vase off my hands. I didn’t bother to let him know that sometimes the frogs woke up in the middle of the night and started singing drinking songs. He’d figure it out.
I’d been trying to get rid of it forages.
Eleanor had taken it in on a pawn, but the owner never came back for it, surprising nobody. I’d optimistically priced it at a hundred fifty bucks, expecting to haggle, but he paid without flinching.
However, after I rang him up and handed him his wrapped and bagged purchase, he paused.
“You know, you really shouldn’t give children candy without consulting with their parents first. If they’d choked, you could be held liable.”
If he’d told me this in a quiet voice, or at least without the superior, condescending tone, I might have appreciated it. Since he didn’t, I simply smiled and thanked him for the advice.
And blew out a big breath when they left.
The door opened a sliver, and Rutherford peeked back in at me with a big grin. “Thanks, lady.”
I gave him a thumbs up. “You’re welcome.”
Just like that, my crankiness disappeared. Despite his parents and being saddled with the name Rutherford, there was hope for the little guy.
I was straightening shelves when Eleanor rushed in, looking great in dark blue pants with a white and blue sailor-striped sweater. “Sorry I’m late! So much to do!”
“No worries. We’re having a lull after the rush of hipster parents, mob of feral kids, and the attempted robbery.”
“What?”
I filled her in and showed her Joe Bob’s signed statement.
“It’s a good thing Bill made me quit carrying my gun,” she said grimly.