Walter turned to the manager. “Please put those turkeys back in the refrigerated section.”
“You can’t!”
My son kept making excuses for you.
“They haven’t been purchased.”
“I have every right to buy them!”
“And this store has every right to donate its inventory. We’re sending those twelve turkeys to the community food pantry.”
Applause erupted.
Beatrice had no idea this was only the beginning of her troubles.
Please put those turkeys back.
Walter turned toward the grandmother. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Margaret.”
“Margaret, we’ll prepare groceries for you and your grandson, free of charge.”
She covered her mouth. “Thank you.”
Beatrice folded her arms. “This is ridiculous. I’m calling my husband.”
This was only the beginning of her troubles.
“Excellent,” Walter replied. “I’ve been meaning to discuss him.”
“Oh, this should be interesting,” I whispered.
