Fender Bender Blues by Niecey Roy

pamphlets. A sweet, little talkative nun from the Catholic Church had come in and Rach had gotten wrapped up in helping her pick out stationary for the church administration. When she went back to check on the fliers, there were one thousand one-sided copies sitting in the output tray. Five minutes ‘til the hour, William panicked and Rach was calming him down when Mrs. Mulberry arrived.
    “You could staple the pages together and save some trees,” Rach suggested. It sounded like a great idea. She pasted on a big fake smile, hoping to charm the woman with some optimism.
    No such luck. Mrs. Mulberry gawked. Turning her fury on William, he cringed like a baby kitten in the eye of a snarling bulldog.
    “How could you let this happen? Are you daft?!” Mrs. Mulberry raged. Rach narrowed her eyes and nudged him to the side to take the heat. His face had gone from pale to shades of crimson her own redhead genes would have trouble matching. Beside Rach, William gripped the counter so hard his knuckles turned white.
    “It’s okay, William, just breathe,” Rach soothed, patting him on his bony back.
    If he didn’t remember to suck in air soon, she’d be performing CPR.
    “I think you’re taking this a little bit to the extreme,” Rach reasoned, her patience waning.
    “Do you have any idea what this does to my deadline? I can’t believe I entrusted these fliers to you! I don’t know how you people run a business—it’s unacceptable!”
    William’s parents made their entrance and Mrs. Mulberry found a new target. A good thing, because poor William was almost comatose.
    “Mr. Thompson, if I had known you left important projects for trainees and your son, who apparently hasn’t a wink of common sense in his head, I would have taken my business to Happy Printing around the corner. Look at this,” she demanded, waving two of the copies that should have been on one sheet under the man’s nose. “This is a disgrace. How can someone screw up a double-sided copy ?”
    How indeed, Rach pondered as she sidled to her workstation, but William caught her on the move. He looked like he might throw up any second. Rach mouthed, “I’m sorry,” and he shrugged in response.
    Mr. Thompson—a spitting image of William, minus the metal grille—glanced nervously at Rach while his very unhappy customer did her best to degrade his mentality. His cheeks were the same shade of red as William’s and by his skittering glances everywhere but Mrs. Mulberry, he suffered the same confrontational issues as his son. Mrs. Thompson, sensing both her son’s and her husband’s angst, stepped in to handle the tense situation.
    The pretty, slim brunette assured Mrs. Mulberry the copies would be finished, for free, in less than twenty minutes.
    “It had better be,” Mrs. Mulberry warned and stormed out.
    All eyes turned to Rach.
    “I am so sorry,” she apologized and swung her purse over her shoulder. “This was all my fault. I feel horrible about it. I’m just going to go now—I don’t think I’m a good fit for this business. Thank you so, so much for giving me a chance, though.” She walked quickly to the door before she changed her mind. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else who doesn’t cause so much…trouble. Feel free to stick my check in the mail.”
    Rach snuck a wink at William before slipping on her sunglasses. The attention perked him up a bit, making her feel a little better for the stress she’d caused him. His parents didn’t try and stop her—not a big surprise after the scene with Mrs. Mulberry.
    William raised his hand in a weak wave and she gave him one last smile then bolted. Rach hit the first gas station on the way home. With a cherry slushy in hand, she considered her situation. She wasn’t bitter, but elated. She couldn’t imagine having to deal with another customer like Mrs. Mulberry.
    What she needed now was to move on to something her mom could brag about. Rach needed a challenge and not of the copy