Helpless

"Nora! These display cases are still streaky!" Mrs. Williams' shrilling voice echoed through 'Sweet Delights Pastry'.

Nora Hayes turned around quickly, still holding the cleaning cloth. 

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Williams. I just cleaned them—"

"Well, clean them again! Look at these fingerprints. How many times do I have to tell you about proper cleaning?" Nora's employer pointed at the glass, looking irritated. 

"I will do it right away." Nora said quietly.

"This is exactly why I can't trust you with more responsibilities. You can't even handle basic cleaning." The woman snapped again. 

"Please, Ma'am, I'm trying my best. I really am." Nora pleaded, sounding tired. 

"Your best? Well, your best apparently isn't good enough. Do you know how many people would kill for this job?" Mrs. Williams scoffed. 

"There we go again!" Nora thought to herself almost rolling her eyes. 

"I know, and I'm grateful..." She was saying but got cut off. 

"Grateful? Yet you are always distracted, always making mistakes." The annoyed woman pointed out. 

"It is just... My grandmother's medication schedule changed, and I was worried about—" Nora tried to explain with hesitation but got cut off again. 

"I don't pay you to worry about your personal problems. One more mistake like this, and you are done. Understand?" The woman snapped again. 

"The medical bills, the grandmother, yes, yes. Always the same excuses." Mrs. Williams added angrily. 

"I swear they are not excuses." Nora said then heaved a deep sigh. 

"I promise I will do better." She added determinedly. 

"You better. Now clean these cases again and this time properly ." Mrs. Williams insisted. 

The afternoon dragged on with Mrs. Williams finding fault in everything Nora did. At 3:45 PM, Nora grabbed her bag from the break room, hoping to slip out quietly.

"There you go again, Always watching the clock to leave." Mrs. Williams' voice stopped her. 

"My shift at the diner starts at four—" Nora tried to explain but the woman wouldn't have none of that. 

"Ah, your other job. If you have another job, maybe you shouldn't come here anymore." She snapped. 

Nora's heart sank. 

"No, please. I need both jobs. I can't cover the bills with just one—" She was saying pleadingly but as usual the woman interrupted her. 

"Bills, bills. That is all I hear from you." Mrs. Williams groaned as if in physical pain. 

"I will come in earlier. I can start thirty minutes before opening. Please, Mrs. Williams." Nora said quickly. 

At her proposition, Mrs. Williams expression softened slightly. She knew that would work be in her favor. 

"You will clean everything properly and no more excuses about being distracted?" She questioned, pretending to want to think about it. 

"Yes, I promise. No more excuses. I will be better." Nora assured her. 

Mrs. Williams sighed heavily. 

"Fine. But remember—one more mistake... !" She trailed off and Nora got the message clearly. 

"Yes ma'am. I won't ever forget that. Thank you so much." Nora said then hurried out, checking her phone. 

"3:50 PM! I would have to run to make it to the diner." She mumbled. 

 ~~~~~~~~~

Nora's evening shift passed in a blur, and by the time Nora started walking home, her phone buzzed. Diana's name lit up the screen.

"Hey, bestie!" Nora said trying to sound cheerful despite her exhaustion. 

"Why do you sound like someone stole your last french fry?" Diana asked, instantly sensing her friend's weak voice. 

"Just tired." Nora replied. 

"Uh-oh. Let me guess, Dragon Lady struck again?" Diana asked, referring to Mrs. Williams. 

"Don't call her that." Nora said, but couldn't help smiling.

"What happened again?" Diana asked. 

"The usual. Streaky display cases, apparently. Those cases just refused to get clean no matter how they are washed." Nora said, letting out a dry chuckle. 

"That woman seriously needs to get a life!" Diana huffed and Nora chuckled again. 

"Oh my god, speaking of lives—you will never guess what happened at my sister's wedding rehearsal." Diana suddenly changed subject, her cheerful voice filling Nora's ear. 

"So the fiance's best man? Total disaster. He showed up wearing flip-flops! I mean, flip-flops to a wedding rehearsal?" 

"What?" Nora exclaimed. 

"Wait, that isn't even the funny part. He defended them that he would be able to move around smoothly in those. You know what? He later slipped on the stairs, landing on his butt in front of everybody. As if that wasn't enough, he started blaming the stairs for being slippery." Diana narrated. 

"You are kidding?" Despite everything, Nora found herself laughing. 

"I wish! Jenny nearly had a heart attack." Diana replied, also laughing. 

"Poor Jenny!" Nora commented. 

"My sister is threatening to uninvite him if he doesn't promise to wear real shoes." Diana said. 

"She can't uninvite the best man!" Nora said, shaking her head in disbelief. 

"Watch her try. She is on a warpath." Diana responded. 

"Where are you now? Want to grab dinner together?" She added. 

"Almost home, but I need to get Grandma's medication first." Nora said, pausing outside the pharmacy. 

"Okay, my regards to Grandma!" Diana said, ending the call. 

Twenty minutes later, Nora climbed the stairs to their second-floor apartment, holding the paper bag of medications.

"Grandma?" She called out, getting her keys. 

Silence answered her. That was strange. Her grandmother always waited by the door when she got home from work.

"Grandma? No welcome hug today?" Nora tried again, opening the door.

Just yesterday they had talked about this tradition. 

 *FLASHBACK*

"You don't have to wait up for me every evening." Nora had said.

"Nonsense. That welcome-home hug is the best part of my day." Her grandmother had replied with a warm smile. 

"Mine too, it makes all the bad stuff disappear." Nora had admitted happily. 

*END OF FLASHBACK*

But today, the hallway was empty. No Grandma Hazel. No warm embrace to make everything better.

"Are you napping?" Nora called out, walking further into the apartment. 

"Grandma?" She turned into the living room and her heart almost stopped.

Her grandmother lay on the floor, motionlessly, a thin line of blood trailing from her nose.

The prescription bag slipped from Nora's fingers.