Written in 2021 as part of a school writing project. Like the main character, I was also once a kid working in a little home décor store. While this piece is not my best work, it is a story that lies close to my heart. AND, this will someday serve as a base for a comedic retail drama novel.
When I first met Derrick, I was a shy, quiet teenager. We were both on the newly hired team of a home décor shop set to open, and it was my very first job. I remember walking through the front doors on my first day and the extreme anxiety I felt of not knowing what to expect. There was Derrick though, standing behind the counter, eyes knowing of what was to be done, and how to administrate others doing their own tasks. He quickly set me off on some task or another, keeping me busy.
Derrick, a military veteran, was rather odd. He was a dude, but he fit rather well into the store staff, which consisted primarily of working moms who were all friendly and loved a good store discount. Like them, he also loved sharing his opinion, and there were many conversations of him asking me, “What do you plan to do for college?” and “What do you want to do in your career?”
I was simply to young to realize, but Derrick had my background figured out early on. Little did I know that the following six years of my life, he would gradually peel back the story of my childhood like an onion. Perceptiveness allowed him to ask me a lot of leading questions, which caused me to think deeper into things I had not thought of prior.
“How are things at home?” he would ask.
“About the same,” I would reply, fluffing a pillow before putting it back into the display wall. “No one is talking, and everyone is still mad.”
“Remember, be respectful, even if they are in the wrong,” Derrick would say, gently.
“I know,” I said with a sigh. “It is just that somedays I really wish I could leave. The fighting makes me depressed.”
“Yes,” he would say, with a knowing look. “But remember, showing love is the best way God can work out your faith. Just keep showing kindness.”
This was Derrick’s moral compass, which was to always treat people well. It was very observable with his treatment of his nephews. The store’s staff nicknamed these little boys the “mini-Derricks” as they looked exactly like their uncle. Although Derrick did not have any children of his own, he fiercely loved these kids and was always taking them to sports games, the movies, and even on vacations. As the kids grew up, I watched their relationship with Derrick change. There was a bond and respect between them that I wished I had in my own life with my family. Their unity was unshakable.
While Derrick got along with many people, however, I did notice he often struggled with communicating with some of the older women. Sarcasm was not a language he spoke; he simply did not understand jokes. Often, I would observe people take advantage of him.
One day, I observed a girl on our staff ask him about the “Gorilla Glue Girl” who went viral online for spraying glue in her hair. Derrick’s reaction did not dissapoint. Gleefully, the team watched as he launched into a speech of how stupid people are and what an idiot the girl was for not reading the very obvious warning labels on the bottle. He got so worked up over this discussion that word soon got around the entire store to not ask Derrick anything about the “Gorilla Glue Girl” unless you wanted to be subjected to an extensive thesis.
Beyond these humorous elements though, Derrick was a deeply sincere person. Furthermore, he was hardworking and selfless. While I had thought of myself to be a rather diligent worker, Derrick put my endeavors to shame. He was intensely focused on accomplishing his goals, and I watched him attend community college and hold down a full-time job while still somehow finding time to care for his elderly parents. No matter his workload, he managed to invest in other people, which was inspiring.
Thus, I felt a real draw to Derrick unlike any I had ever experienced. Likewise, he got along splendidly with me as soon as he began to recognize my mischievous nature. Within two years of working in the store, we became a solid team. We survived the craziness of Black Friday and the holiday season many times over together. We laughed at the expense of customers—not to their faces, of course—and became rather an invincible force of labor. We were an unlikely duo, but our friendship was resilient. I was fun and creative, and he, in turn, was wise and calculating. More than anything though, he allowed me to be a young learning adult, which is something I did not recognize how valuable it was until I lost it.
I found myself having to leave the store, and after many years of doing the same thing day after day, it felt like I was losing a major part of my identity. To be sure, I despised selling candles and organizing collages, clocks, and wall art on the ridiculous wall panels, but it was something I had come to be accustomed. I did not want to say goodbye, but it was inevitable.
That last night was rather a blur. I remember vacuuming the floral-patterned carpet for the very last time before taking a quick walk around the store and straightening all the sachet packets in their baskets. Neither Derrick nor I said much the entire evening. What can you say after so many years? I watched as Derrick finished his closing duties and we both went outside into what was a rather cold and dark parking lot.
I will never forget how odd it felt to be walking across that lot for the final time. It was like the final scene of the TV show Friends, as I found myself saying, like Phoebe, “Well, I guess this is it.”
Derrick looked at me and said, “Yeah, I guess it is.”
I uncomfortably looked down into my bag and fumbled to pull out my keys. Having found them, I unlocked my car as Derrick also opened the door to his. I placed my bag inside, before looking back at him. Distinctively, I recall him standing there, the lights of the parking lot reflecting against the hood of his car. He was not getting inside. Rather, he stood there for a long moment before closing the door and walking around his car toward me to give me a hug.
I hugged him back, and we both stood there for some time not saying anything. I could not believe that I was saying goodbye. Tears began to fall down my face as I groggily said into his jacket, “Thank you, Derrick. You have really been everything to me.”
With a sad smile, he let go of me and patted me on the shoulder. I turned to get into my car but then turned back again. I had to say it, even if I was feeling hesitant.
“Derrick,” I shakily said, “I just want to tell you that I cannot believe what you have done for me over the years. You know I have had some bad days. I know you have had some hard ones too, and I just want to say thanks for being there for me. I really have needed someone in my life to look out for me, and you have.”
I did not expect him to start crying.
“It was a privilege,” he said while drying his eyes with his sleeve. “I know how hard it has been for you at home. You are incredibly kind and sweet though. I know that you have needed someone in your life to encourage you…I am so glad that I got to be that person.”
He gave me one last hug and we both got in our cars and drove away. The entire trip home I sat and pondered. While I had known Derrick had guessed much of my pain, I had no idea he knew the incredible weight I held on my shoulders. Unlike many people who have walked in and out of my life though, he cared.
Today, I still drive by the store and reminisce. I think about those many nights Derrick and I spent building displays, all the complaining we would do about stupid store procedures, and the many laughs we had over some of the silliest things. There were both many good and bad times for us, and we were at a level of acceptance with each other which I have not experienced even within my own family.
What was this rare thing we had together? I am not sure I know. I do, however, thank God with all my heart that, for a small window of my adult life, someone had the insight to pay attention, ask questions, and to try and understand me. Derrick, with his eccentric nature, was a true mentor, and, he truly was someone who cared.
©2025 Sanctuary Story