Grant described the certificates as “a flexible full-value retail instrument.”
He mentioned a regional retailer.
He said families could use them for food, household goods, appliances, and gifts.
He said Blackidge was “thinking creatively.”
Someone near the coffee machine laughed.
Evan opened his envelope.
Twelve certificates.
Becket Home and Market.
Different denominations.
He added them mentally.
$4,860.
Exactly the amount Blackidge still owed him in December wages and accrued year-end compensation.
Not approximately.
Exactly.
That was the first thing he noticed.
The second was the retailer.
Becket Home and Market had been shrinking for years.
One location near Sophie’s school had closed.
Another on the north side had paper covering half the windows.
The third thing Evan noticed was the date.
APRIL 30.
Eight months earlier.
He turned another certificate over.
Same expiration date.
Another.
Same.
All twelve.
Around him, the room began changing.
Not loudly.
Curtis Bell held his envelope close to his face.
A shipping clerk named Renee Dawson sat down.
Someone said:
“Wait.”
Someone else:
“Mine says April too.”
Grant continued speaking as if the room had not shifted.
Evan approached Dana first.
Procedure.
That mattered to him.
He held out one certificate.
“Dana.”
She looked at it.
“Have you seen this?”
“Yes.”
“I mean the date.”
Dana looked at the bottom.