Playing Doctor

Chapter Four

in·sane [in-seyn] - adjective

1. not of sound mind; mentally deranged.

2. utterly senseless.

It took me several days of searching but I finally got another interview, this time at the produce market four blocks from Mena's house.

This job was perfect on a number of levels. One: they sold organic produce from local farmers. I knew my parents would be upset (to say the least) when I told them I was leaving medicine, but the organic part would go a long way toward appeasing them. They were very earth conscious and had gone organic years before it was fashionable to do so.

Two: it was so close to my current home. I could walk, which was ideal since I sold my car before I came back to Portland.

Three: working in a market seemed like a very normal thing to do. Steady hours, little/no overtime, no bringing work home.

And four: I had to find some way to occupy my days or I'd go insane. Not only because I needed to have a purpose again. With a job, I'd have that much less time to think about Kevin and Jenny.

Armed with an improved résumé and wearing a better interview outfit, I left early with the intention of acquainting myself with the market before my interview. But when I arrived, the gate was still closed.

Tapping my feet, I stared into the front windows and wondered why they weren't opening the doors. According to my cell phone, it was five after nine. Late. I shook my head. That would never happen when I worked there.

My phone rang while I still held it in my hand. Looking at the caller ID, I saw it was Kevin. Silencing the call, I was just about to set it to vibrate when the clacking of the metal doors rolling up pulled my attention.

The gnawing feeling in my stomach sharpened. I tugged down the shirt I'd borrowed from Mena's closet and tried to breathe to calm myself. "You can do this," I reassured myself. Ignoring the doubt in my voice, I stood tall and marched in.

"Can I help you?" a boy asked when he saw me looking around.

This was it. "My name is Daphne. I have a meeting with Myra."

He nodded, but I could tell he wasn't paying attention to what I said, maybe because of the way his mouth hung open and he stared at my chest.

Frowning, I looked down. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with Mena's shirt. Was I showing too much cleavage? Based on what I'd seen other women wearing, I thought I had just the right amount exposed. I eyed the boy. He looked like he was eighteen at the most. Maybe Victoria's Secret didn't deliver to his home.

I cleared my throat. "Is your manager in?"

He nodded distractedly and mumbled, "I'll get her." His eyes still wide on me, he turned to leave and walked into a stand of mangoes.

Turning around to put temptation out of his eyesight, I shook my head and noted that I'd have to wear an apron any time he worked the same shift as me.

While I waited, I wandered around and studied the operation. Picking up an apple, I pretended to be completely enraptured by the Fujis while I secretly watched the cashier ring up the first customer of the day.

Inefficient. I could do better than that. She handled everything two or three times. If she rang things up more logically and then immediately bagged them, she'd save at least ten to twenty seconds on each customer. Maybe more.

And the fruits and vegetables were in such disarray. Where was the logic in having the mangoes next to the apples? The first thing I'd do when I started work here would be to rearrange everything in alphabetical order. It'd make it easier to find what you were looking for.