Reminders of Him

parts of the show are bullshit, I’ll give you an application.”
I could cry. Instead, I fake a smile. “I’ve heard so many jokes about
that show. I guess I need to watch it.”
Amy rolls her head. “Yes. Yes, yes. Best show, best cast; come with
me.”
I follow her to the customer service desk at the front of the store. She
digs around in a drawer and finds an application, then hands it to me along
with a pen. “If you fill it out while you’re here, I can get you in for Monday
orientation.”
I take the application from her, and I want to thank her, I want to hug
her, I want to tell her she’s changing my life. But I just smile and quietly
take my application to a bench by the front door.
I fill out my full name but put quotation marks around my middle
name, so they’ll know to call me Nicole. I can’t be wearing a name tag that
says K
ENNA
in this town. Someone will recognize it. Then they’ll gossip.
I get halfway through the first page when I’m interrupted.
“Hey.”
My fingers clench the pen tightly when I hear his voice. I slowly lift
my head, and Ledger is standing in front of me with a grocery cart full of
about a dozen packs of Gatorade.
I flip the application over, hoping he didn’t already see my name
across the top of it. I swallow and attempt to appear to be in a more stable
mood than all the moods he witnessed from me yesterday.
I gesture toward the Gatorade. “Special at the bar tonight?”
A subtle relief seems to wash over him, like he was expecting me to
tell him to fuck off. He taps one of the packs of Gatorade. “T-ball coach.”
I look away from him, because for some reason that answer makes me
uneasy. He doesn’t look like a T-ball coach. Those lucky mothers.
Oh, no. He’s a T-ball coach. Does he have a kid? A kid and a wife?
Did I almost sleep with a married T-ball coach?

---

I tap the pen on the back of the clipboard. “Are you, um . . . you aren’t
married, are you?”
His grin tells me no. He doesn’t even need to say it, but he shakes his
head and says, “Single,” then motions toward the clipboard on my lap. “You
applying for a job?”
“Yep.” I glance toward the customer service desk, and Amy is eyeing
me. I need this job so bad, but I’m afraid this might make it look like I’m
going to be distracted by sexy bartenders while I’m on the clock. I look
away from her, wondering if Ledger’s standing here talking to me is hurting
my chances. I flip the clipboard back over, but tilt it so that he isn’t able to
see my name. I start writing in my address, hoping he walks away.
He doesn’t. He pushes his cart to the side so a guy can get around him,
and then he leans his right shoulder against the wall and says, “I was hoping
I’d run into you again.”
I’m not going to do this right now.
I’m not going to lead him on when he has no idea who I am.
I’m also not going to risk this job by fraternizing with customers.
“Can you go?” I whisper it, but loud enough for him to hear it.
He makes a face. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, I just really need to finish this.”
His jaw tightens, and he pushes off the wall. “It’s just that you act like
you’re mad, and I feel kind of bad about last night . . .”
“I’m fine.” I look back at the customer service desk, and Amy is still
staring. I face Ledger and plead with him. “I really need this job. And right
now, my potential new boss keeps looking over here, and no offense, but
you’re covered in tattoos and look like trouble, and I need her to think I’m
not going to give her any issues at all. I don’t care what happened last night.
It was mutual. It was fine.”
He nods slowly and then grips the handle of his shopping cart. “It was
fine,” he repeats, seemingly offended.
For a moment, I feel bad, but I’m not going to lie to him. He put his
hand down my jeans, and if we hadn’t been interrupted, we probably would
have ended up fucking. In his truck. How spectacular could it have been?
But he’s right—it was more than fine. I can’t even look at him without
staring at his mouth. He’s a good kisser, and it’s toying with my head right

---

now because I have so many more important things going on in my life than
his mouth.
He stands silent for a couple of seconds and then reaches into a sack in
his cart. He pulls out a brown bottle. “I bought caramel. In case you come
back.” He tosses the bottle into the cart. “Anyway. Good luck.” He looks
uneasy when he turns and walks out the door.
I try to continue filling out the form, but I’m shaking now. I feel like
I’ve got a bomb strapped to me and it ticks down in his presence, getting
closer and closer to exploding my secrets all over him.
I finish filling out the application, but my handwriting is sloppy
because of my trembling hands. When I return to customer service and hand
it to Amy, she says, “He your boyfriend?”
I play dumb. “Who?”
“Ledger Ward.”
Ward? The bar is called Ward’s. He owns the bar?
I shake my head, answering Amy’s question. “No, I hardly know
him.”
“Shame. He’s a hot commodity around here since he and Leah broke
up.”
She says that like I’m supposed to know who Leah is. I guess in a
town this size, most people know most people. I glance back at the door
Ledger disappeared through. “I’m not in the market for a hot commodity.
Just a lukewarm job.”
Amy laughs and then browses my application for a moment. “Did you
grow up here?”
“No, I’m from Denver. I came here for college.” That’s a lie—I never
went to college—but it’s a college town, and my intentions were to
eventually go. That just never happened.
“Oh, yeah? What’s your degree in?”
“Didn’t finish. That’s why I’m back,” I lie. “Registering for next
semester.”
“This job is perfect for that; we can work around your classes. Be here
Monday at eight for orientation. Do you have a driver’s license?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’ll bring it.” I leave out the fact that I just got my
driver’s license last month, after months of working to get it reinstated.
“Thank you.” I try to say that with as little eagerness in my voice as

---

possible, but so far things are working out. I have an apartment and now a
job.
Now I just need to find my daughter.
I turn to walk away, but Amy says, “Wait. Do you want to know how
much you’re making?”
“Oh. Yeah, of course.”
“Minimum wage. Ridiculous, I know. I don’t own this place, or I’d
raise it.” She leans forward and lowers her voice. “You know, you can
probably get a job at the Lowe’s warehouse. They pay twice that starting
out.”
“I tried online last week. They won’t hire me with my record.”
“Oh. Bummer. Well. See you Monday, then.”
Before I go, I tap my fist on the counter and ask a question I probably
shouldn’t ask. “One more thing. You know the guy I was talking to?
Ledger?”
She raises an amused brow. “What about him?”
“Does he have kids?”
“Just a niece or something. She comes in here with him sometimes.
Cute girl, but I’m pretty sure he’s single and childless.”