Chapter 8

We opened Grandmas’ Faith Grocery Store, five months later. There was a lot of hoopla, politicians praising each other for bringing affordable food back to the masses, that sort of thing. The locals just smiled and thanked Grandma Greely and Grandma Vasquez. They were stunned when they unveiled the store logo, both their faces smiling back at everyone walking through the door.

Ms. Chen had wrangled a deal with an independent grocers association, getting access to their prices instead of what jobbers charged to outfit a bodega. They took it on faith, if it succeeded it would lead to more business, and if it failed they could shrug their shoulders and say they tried to help the community. I think they were shocked at the volume we did, rivaling some of their smaller full-service stores.

We opened at eight every morning and closed at seven every night, and we were closed on Sunday. Even though we were in good graces with most of the people who could do us harm, I didn’t want to expose my people to risk any more than necessary. It was one of the reasons I decided not to carry alcohol. It took a lot of temptation away, and besides, I needed that cooler space for vegetables and milk.

I had people. Alice worked from three to eight, three days a week, and eight hours on Saturdays. Miguel’s youngest sister, seventeen, worked the same hours as Alice on opposite days, and Consuela’s Spanish skills helped us tremendously. I even took Spanish classes, and could now speak it, poorly. I think a lot of customers came in just to hear me try, and laugh as they corrected me.

Besides the girls, I had four middle-aged women working the two registers I had to keep open all the time. I also had two full-time stockers, because the place was small and stuff came off the shelves pretty quickly. Both were mature men, happy to have work, and I paid pretty well. The girls got ten an hour, the women and men fourteen when they got to top pay. In the summer, I paid the girls the same, because they worked full-time. I wanted to make money, but I wanted those that worked for me to make a living, also. Even after all these years, I have one of the lowest rates of turnover of any grocery chain.

Everyone who worked a register was trained on how to handle a robbery. Open the cash register, raise your hands, and back away. You also mashed the panic button on the floor as you backed away, and the police usually responded quite quickly. We only had three the first year, pretty amazing really. The fact that I kept two coffee pots going in the office and we never, under any circumstances, charged the police for snacks, probably helped a little. Plus, the guys they caught got the shit beat out of them when they made bail or got out of jail, courtesy of the two “social” clubs. Word got out.

After the first year, I had to give up the farm. I just simply didn’t have time, anymore. It broke my heart, but I realized I could do a lot more good in my store.

The place was a cash cow. I had no competition to speak of and a good reputation in the community. The Grandmas, as they came to be called by everyone, were there three or four days a week, holding court with their friends. If you wanted something known in the community, drop a word to them and everybody heard about it before the day was out.

Dan and Jose came by one Friday with a man that wanted to talk to me. He was there to invite me to a private meeting with the City Commissioners. They had a proposition for me.

It seems the city had acquired a grocery store in a strip mall, by default, seized as part of a drug case. They wanted me to expand to a full-service store, and would sell me the store for fifty percent of its tax value, in exchange for a contract that I keep it open for five years. I got Ms. Chen in on it, and she told me I would be a fool to walk away from the deal.