By Linda Chandanais
The money drawer is short on the days I work. It’s not me, but suspicions pointed my way. I’m extra careful with every ring-up. I like this job.
The morning cook, who’s worked here forever, says her money’s on Sally. She covers the noon rush with me.
The cook has no evidence. “It’s my gut,” she says with wise eyes.
Today Sally’s off and the drawers short. It’s not looking good for me. I really liked this job.
The boss calls me. “Tomorrow morning count the drawer before you open and keep it quiet.”
Now there’s a new cook.
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“(I write) because I don’t knit.” – the writer