Lanna Kirby took a deep breath and shoved the huge cardboard box into the storeroom. Emitting an involuntary squeak at the effort, she pushed until the box was wedged in the far, cobwebby corner. She wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, squinting when a drop sneaked into the corner of one eye.
When would people get off their duffs and pick up their mail? It wasn’t like she had a ton of room in the post office. It was not their personal storage facility, after all.
Maybe she should start charging storage fees or selling their stuff online. That would get them in here fast.
Dusting her hands off on the front of her faded jeans, she raised her head when the cowbell clanked above the door. As if she needed another reminder she no longer lived in a big city. Scurrying to the lobby counter, she smoothed down her wayward red curls. With humidity off the charts, her hair seemed to have a mind of its own. It didn’t help matters that she had to rush around the small office at breakneck speed. Saturday mornings were busy.
A tall, older woman with white hair pulled severely into a bun and wearing a yellow flowered housedress stood ramrod straight on the other side of the counter. Frowning. The furrows in her brow appeared deep enough to plant corn in. She resembled a giant, unhappy dandelion.
Lanna swallowed hard. The stirrings of a headache threatened at her temples. This woman was an annoyance with a giant, irritating A. Lanna did not need this today, not with everything else going on.
She sighed. “How can I help you today, Mrs. Billings?” It was all Lanna could do to not roll her eyes at her.
The woman glared at her with fiery blue eyes. Lanna imagined sparks flying from them. Should she duck behind the counter? Get an umbrella? She was sure she’d seen some in a box somewhere.
Mrs. Billings leaned toward the counter, her eyes narrowed. “Well for starters, where are the dress patterns I ordered last week? They should be here by now.” She looked at the clock on the wall behind Lanna, as if just by checking the time, she could force the mail to arrive faster.
Good luck with that, lady. If that were the case, Lanna would have had those dress patterns here a long time ago, just to get Mrs. B off her back. She would even have gladly delivered them to the old hag’s front door.
Lanna took a deep breath. Why did she always get blamed for the tardy U.S. Postal Service? It would be nice if, just every other Wednesday or so, they’d cut her some slack and own up to their own sluggishness.
“I’ve been tracking the package for you online, Mrs. Billings. It should be here in the next day or two.” She put her hands behind her back, twisting her fingers together, willing the other woman to just go away. She’d only worked here for two weeks, and had the displeasure of dealing with Mrs. Billings every day. Surely at some point, the snooty bat would find someone else to bother.
The other woman harrumphed, pointing a bony, arthritic finger at Lanna. “I don’t think you even know what you’re doing here. Maybe you should go back where you came from.” Her gaze lowered to the floor behind Lanna. She frowned. “And just what is that? You got an animal running loose in here? “
Lanna took a deep breath, knowing the other woman had spotted her cat’s food dish and toys. Perfect. Now there was another reason for the woman to dislike her. Mrs. B. obviously was not a pet-person.
“Yes, that belongs to my cat. But he—”
“Filthy, disgusting animals should be nowhere near people. You’d better be careful, or you’ll be devoured by them in your sleep.” Thumping her fist on the counter to emphasize her point, Mrs. Billings spun on her heel and left.
Lanna had to hold in a laugh. If Mrs. Billings could see her fat, lazy, orange cat, she might not be so quick to think about him devouring anyone, unless they were covered in catnip. Or tuna. True, Gordon could be moody, but she loved him more than anything.
Click. Click. Click.
Speaking of her baby, that sounded like his claws on the bare floor.
Lanna turned around to see her cat’s tail disappear into the storeroom. Guess he knew better than to show his furry face when Mrs. Billings was here. Smart cat.
She worked all morning sorting mail and filling mail slots. In between, she answered customers’ questions and arranged and rearranged boxes in the miniscule storeroom.