What luck! Brendan silently exulted in the fact that the Kaufmans thought education was so important. As long as they didn't try to educate him, he was happy to take Abraham's place.
"Yes sir. I'll be here on time, and I'm a fast learner." He grinned, although he was a little worried about the last bit: getting along with the customers. People were so much more annoying than animals. But, just like working with animals, working with people was something he could learn.
But before the deal could be completely sealed, Brendan knew he needed to make Mr. Kaufman aware of his recent past. He shifted his weight, then came out with it.
"There is somethin' you oughta know. I got caught up in a...a real mess a couple weeks back. Pretty near got accused of murder. It's mostly blown over now, but I don't want this to come back to bite ya."
If the man wanted more details, he could give an ear to gossip. But Brendan had done what he'd thought best. Just a few weeks ago, he'd have been prone to hide the truth as long as he could. But Crabbe's death had forced him to rethink the way he'd been living and consider more how his actions affected others. And this was something that could very well affect Mr. Kaufman's business, if Granny Miggins hadn't been set straight about what really happened, and if she had as much influence as she pretended to.
Of course, he'd left out the part about his relationship with Bridget. No need to alienate the (presumably) very straight-laced man any more than he needed to.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Mr. Kaufmann seemed to have found an employee, well a prospective one. The final test would be could he show up responsibly and do all that required of the job? So nothing was certain yet but the veteran butcher was willing to give the young an opportunity here.
Seemed the young needed to tell him something though too.
"There is somethin' you oughta know. I got caught up in a...a real mess a couple weeks back. Pretty near got accused of murder. It's mostly blown over now, but I don't want this to come back to bite ya."
"Oh...oh so you are the fellow. My daughter, Miriam, was telling us about that at the supper table recently. My wife procured a copy of the local paper to follow up on this. You were never charged with anything by the marshal. So if the law says you are innocent of any such thing, then who am I to question it," Mr. Kaufmann explained.
"Miriam also said that she believes you to be a decent fellow and she knows some other people who know you personally. I do value my daughters input on such things. Me, I tend to just focus on the business and let life go on all around me. I am a very single minded man, as you will no doubt find out."
Brendan cringed as Mr. Kaufman recognized him from the account in the paper, but soon realized that it wouldn’t put his new job at stake.
”Yessir,” he agreed with a vigorous nod of his head. “It was all just a misunderstanding. Looked bad at first, though.”
He smiled a little at the mention of Miriam’s friends. The band of misfits at the saloon (Caroline wasn’t part of that, of course…she was too perfect to be called a misfit) really were his friends, no matter how you sliced it.
Mr. Kaufman would be quite a character to work for. Single minded, letting the world go on around him. Very different than Brendan, who somehow managed to get himself involved in everything.
“That’s a good way to be,” he said solemnly, then glanced around the shop. “Something you need me to do now? If not, I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow.”
Although starting with good intentions, Brendan’s natural flightiness would soon put his commitment and determination to the test.
"No Irish!"
The door to the street opened, and who should walk in but Mrs Wigfall, owner and proprietress of the boarding house just down the street, and a potentially good customer, for she had many more mouths to feed than most other women in the growing burgh of Kalispell. But she was the kind of woman who was hard to please (as her two worn-out children and her incredibly henpecked husband could attest - even some of her guests had felt the rough edge of her tongue before now!)
She entered the brand spanking new Butcher shop with eyes searching all around: was the place clean? Was it too big, too small too hot, too cold? what was the service going to be like, suitably grovelling, she hoped; more importantly, what would their selection of meat and meat products be, would it be too pricy? Would it be suspiciously cheap? Just exactly what WAS in those sausages?!!!
She didn't expect more than a third of these questions to be answered to her satisfaction, of course. She looked at the men behind the counter: the short bearded one, very Jewish looking, she thought, with the hindsight of knowing he was Jewish.
"Ah, Mister Kaufmann, I presume? I am Mrs Wigfall, our daughters Jemima and Miriam work together, you know..." then her eyes drifted to the tall handsome hunk of prime cut beef standing next to the owner of the place. She instinctively adjusted her bonnet and her shawl.
"Oh... and who might you be? Miriam's brother, perhaps?" she smiled, an action almost painful for want of recent exercise. Why, the last time she had laughed, or even smiled, was a good two months ago, when her husband had fallen down stairs.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening followed by the entrance of a customer. Mr. Kaufmann warmed at the very prospect of a customer and stood behind the counter with a smile.
"Good day, ma'am," he greeted her.
"Ah, Mister Kaufmann, I presume? I am Mrs Wigfall, our daughters Jemima and Miriam work together, you know..."
"Yes I am Ezekiel Kaufmann," the man vaguely recalled his daughter talk of Jemima though the last name meant nothing to him, "Yes Miriam works with her at the dress shop."
He really knew nothing more than that bare detail, Miriam's acquaintances were her own business. Well except for that busybody Arabella Mudd. One could not forget meeting her but she was one of those people best in small doses.
"Oh... and who might you be? Miriam's brother, perhaps?" the woman now asked of his brand new employee.
"No, Miriam's brother is thirteen. This is my assistant, Brendan ..........."oh dear, he already forgot the fellow's last name. Turning, he let the young man finish out the introduction.
"No Irish!"
"Yes I am Ezekiel Kaufmann," the man vaguely recalled his daughter talk of Jemima though the last name meant nothing to him, "Yes Miriam works with her at the dress shop."
Mention of her daughter's name didn't seem to spark any great enthusiasm in Kalispell's new master butcher and, frankly, Mrs Wigfall didn't blame him: the girl was an unattractive drudge.
"Oh... and who might you be? Miriam's brother, perhaps?" the woman now asked of his brand new employee.
"No, Miriam's brother is thirteen. This is my assistant, Brendan ..........."oh dear, he already forgot the fellow's last name. Turning, he let the young man finish out the introduction.
"Not Brendan Connelly?" asked the boardinghouse mistress, her eyes brightening and her mouth displaying a carnivorous white smile. Yes, she had heard of the ruthless killer Brendan Connolly all right, and Mrs Mary Blodwyn Wigfall (née Ap Evans) had a penchant for ruthless men; she had conducted a long running affair with the late Richard Orr (funny how nobody noticed how her two children looked nothing like her weedy, pasty faced, balding husband, or that she was now wearing widow's black) and his unfortunate demise had left a gaping hole in her life.
A hole, perhaps, that the brutally handsome Mr Connelly, with his tasty looking rack (of lamb) and his temptingly large sausage selection might be able to fill. Truth to tell, in the following weeks, she was not the only lady of a certain age in Kalispell to start to visit the new butcher shop for more than just a pound of chump and a few slices of bacon.
"Why don't you show me what you've got, Mr Connelly?" she asked, longingly.
For a moment Brendan wanted to play with the older woman and say that, yes, he was Miriam's brother. But of course Mr. Kaufman couldn't let him have that little bit of fun. The older man spilled the beans that Brendan was just an employee...but he said "assistant!" as he was introducing him. Well, that was a good sign.
He wasn't sure that he liked Mrs. Wigfall's tone as she realized his last name. It wasn't shocked, or frightened, and in fact the woman sounded quite intrigued. Brendan wanted to be polite in front of his new employer, so he nodded and flashed Mrs. Wigfall a smile. "Yes, ma'am, the Brendan Connolly." Even though the publicity about him wasn't all that good, it did feel nice to be recognized.
That woman was just hankering for her meat. What was so titillating about picking out a piece of meat? he wondered as he moved to where the larger cuts of meat hung from the walls. And then suddenly it hit him. It wasn't the meat. It was him.
Caught off guard for a moment, he stared at a side of beef, his mind whirling. He was used to the younger women fawning over him, but this was different. This woman was...well...old! Not as old as Granny Miggins (and thinking about that woman gave him the creeps), but still too old.
He moistened his lips, uncomfortably aware of the way Mrs. Wigfall was watching him. "Well, this here's a side of beef." He could tell that just by how big it was. He looked at the one hanging next to it, clueless for a moment, then realized that it could only be pig. "And this here's a hog leg. Or we got some sausages over here." He led the way over to the display case, glancing at Mr. Kaufman.
The owner hadn't told him to help Mrs. Wigfall, but she'd asked for him, so he'd oblige her...to a point.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
The customer seemed interested in engaging with his new employee so that was just fine with Mr. Kaufmann who could finally get back then to some work in the back, bloody messy work it was too so thus never in view of the public.
"Very well, Mr. Connolly, take care of Mrs. Wigfall. When she has decided on her purchases, let me know and I can handle the money end of things," and just like that Ezekiel turned and disappeared into the back.
"No Irish!"
It didn't really matter what Mr Kaufmann did, he could have done the Hora dance with a string of sausages around his neck and Mrs Wigfall would have still been all eyes on the handsome Brandan. She didn't even notice the owner go back to his chopping block in the back.
He moistened his lips, uncomfortably aware of the way Mrs. Wigfall was watching him. "Well, this here's a side of beef."
"Oh, Mr Connolly, you're so knowledgeable!" Mrs W cooed.
He looked at the one hanging next to it, clueless for a moment, then realized that it could only be pig. "And this here's a hog leg. Or we got some sausages over here." He led the way over to the display case, glancing at Mr. Kaufman.
She followed him over, and then glanced back at the side of beef.
"Hmmm, I think I'd like to take four pounds of your tenderloin, please. Oooh, you must be very strong to be able to chop it all up with your little mashie." she sighed, reaching up and touching him on the bicep. "Oh, and throw in a dozen sausages, too. You've forced me into it, you silver tongued rogue, you!" she beamed.
This was too easy. Now, Brendan knew every customer wouldn't be such an easy sale as Mrs. Wigfall, but he was content to ride the wave of his success for now. He was even able to keep from pulling away when Mrs. Wigfall tried to get a feel of his muscles.
"Oh, and throw in a dozen sausages, too. You've forced me into it, you silver tongued rogue, you!" she beamed.
"Shucks, ma'm." He ducked his head and looked at the older woman with feigned embarrassment. "You didn't even let me get started."
He spread his arms invitingly and gestured at the display case. "See anything else you like? Take your time. I'll be gettin' your purchases ready." He headed back over to retrieve the side of beef from the hook on the wall, knowing that Mrs. Wigfall's eyes would follow him.
And strangely, he didn't mind as much as he had at first. It was nice to have someone appreciate him verbally and flirt with him. Bridget couldn't do that. It still didn't feel completely right, but as long as the woman didn't throw herself at him, Brendan would go along with her.
He lugged the beef to the back to announce to Mr. Kaufman, "She wants four pounds of tenderloin and a dozen sausages. Might want somethin' else, too."