by Jane West
Then I recalled Ms. Noel rambling about some vile family coming for me. Really? I found that hard to believe. I was a girl pushing newspapers on the wrong side of the tracks. What would be the point in kidnapping me? I hadn’t got a penny to my name. I rolled my eyes.
All at once, I got a weird sensation that jolted me to a sitting position. Quickly, my eyes combed the diner. I narrowed my eyes when I spotted Sara’s boyfriend. He was heading my way. Damn, damn, damn!
“Bonjour, beautiful!” He flashed a lustful smile as he slid into the booth next to me. Instantly I scooted over with my back to the wall. He was the last person I wanted to see. Although I hadn’t officially met the dude, I’d already developed a mistrust. Between his dirty ink hair to his cigarette-liquored breath and the wicked glint in his anthracite eyes, the man made my skin crawl. To sum it up in a nice brown package, I sensed he was a pervert.
“Don’t you have a dish to wash?” I eyed his dirty apron. Sara mentioned that he was the dishwasher. I reckoned that was the best job he could get. He appeared young, around twenty-five, a good fifteen years younger than Sara.
He lit his cigarette, eyeing me like he was summing me up. “I’m on break.” he blew out the smoke. “I thought I’d introduce myself.” He flashed a fake smile. “I’m Francis.”
“Now that you introduced yourself, you can leave.” I snarled. There was something off about this dude. He gave me the creeps.
“Where have you been?” The cadence in his voice was thick of Cajun French. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He laughed as he drew on his cigarette, twisting his lips to the side, blowing the smoke upward.
“I’m fine.” He wasn’t getting nothing outta me.
He snickered as he rattled off French. “Vous aurez comme moi ou nous aurons un problème.” (You will like me or else we will have an issue.) His eyes hardened.
I didn’t have to understand French to understand his jealousy toward me. Still, it was nice knowing the language. I’d taken French in school, a little private joke that I intended to keep to myself.
“Why don’t you just say it?” I challenged him, holding my gaze even.
“I could say the same to you,” he countered with disdain in his eyes.
“What do you want?” I wished he’d just say spit it out and go away. It was evident, he was trying to intimidate me.
He rubbed his scruffy chin as he drew in a drag off his cigarette. He exhaled, eyes fixed on me. “You remind me of a kitten I once had. A feisty little thing.” He inhaled his cigarette and exhaled directly in my face.
Instantly I wanted to gag. The smoke was smothering. I hated cigarettes. The smell was horrendous. Instead of reacting to his lame taunt, I held still. But secretly, I cursed him with every word I knew. I detested him. “I came here to see my mom. Do you mind?” I snapped.
“No, not at all,” his eyes glistened like black obsidian. “First, I have one thing I want you to understand.” He smiled flashing his yellow teeth. “Your mom and I are together. Don’t give her a hard time about me. I’m here to stay, petite fille.” (little girl) He cast a dark smile stamping out his cigarette butt on the laminated tabletop in front of me before he slid from the booth. I glared up at him. How ironic? An ashtray sat only inches from his hand. Francis was trying to be cute. Just the opposite, he was conveying a message. He was the top dog now, and I better watch my back.
With only a smirk plastered across his face, he left, disappearing through the double doors. I suspected the kitchen.
Francis didn’t bother me much. It was only a matter of time before he’d end up in some fatal accident or Sara trading him in for a rich man. He best watch his own back.
Then my mind drifted to Ms. Noel. I felt horrible, leaving her. Sometimes my temper got the best of me. I overreacted. Talking about Dad was a hard subject for me. His death came unexpectedly. After his death, my world shattered. Even Sara changed into an unrecognizable person. Her mood swings transpired from a baking cookies mother to a rage-throwing-dish mother.
About six months after Dad’s death, Sara ended up arrested for shoplifting at Neiman Marcus. When they apprehended her, she went into a fit of rage. As a result, they had admitted her into the physic ward at the local hospital. The doctors diagnosed Sara with bipolar disorder.
Which brought me to understand why Ms. Noel would assume Sara was running. I had to disagree with her on this one. Sara’s instability and paranoia stemmed from her illness.
Thanks to Ms. Noel, she’d stirred my hunger for answers concerning Dad’s death. This wasn’t going to be easy. Sara hated talking about Dad. I get that she wanted to put this terrible memory to rest. And keeping in mind of her mental state, it was hard for her to cope. Still, if Sara knew anything that might help the police find the killer, she needed to cough it up. I wasn’t backing down either, regardless of how many dishes Sara hurled my way. She was going to spill the beans.
I raked over the diner and spied Sara. It looked like she’d finished taking an order. When she stuck the pad in her pocket, our eyes hitched. A slight tug at the corner of her mouth tipped upward. She started etching her way toward me. I noted that only a few customers still having lunch. Good! I might have a chance to talk with Sara.
She had practically moved in with Francis. Oddly, she hadn’t been home to get any of her things. Sara never went without her precious possessions. I had no idea what was up with that.
For the life of me, I didn’t see what she saw in Francis. One word described him, loser! He had no stability, and he was hard on the eyes. Someone needed to introduce him to soap and water. I reckoned the town didn’t have many available bachelors. Then again, it wasn’t beneath Sara to hook up with a married man. Apart from them dying, that was why I didn’t get involved in her affairs.
“Well, hello there stranger!” Sara wore her Mommy-smile today.
“If you’d come home a night or two, I wouldn’t be a stranger.” I smiled back with a little sass.
Sara nearly smiled. “How about I make it up to you? You want something to eat?” She pulled out her pad from her pocket and drew the pin from her ear.
I half smiled. “Just a chocolate shake and fries, please.”
Suddenly Sara’s brows knitted, staring down at the table. “That wouldn’t happen to be yours?” She pointed to the crumpled cigarette butt lying on the table.
I first wanted to roll my eyes, but I stopped myself. “It belongs to your boyfriend.” I shrugged, keeping my irritation undetected.
“Oh… why didn’t he use an ashtray?”
I shrugged. “That’s something I asked myself.”
Sara eyed me for a minute. I knew she didn’t believe me. “Okay, I’ll bring your food to you shortly.” She paused. “Umm… clean that mess up before my boss sees it!” She swatted her hand at me and zipped away before I had the opportunity to protest.
Instead of obeying Sara’s orders, I switched booths. Sara wouldn’t think to check the other booths. By the time she returned, she’d forget. Besides, I refused to clean up after her boyfriend or take the fall.
I rested my head on my hands and propped my elbows on the table. My mind drifted to a time when life was easy. It was so long ago, and as time passed, the memories faded.
When my father was alive, I had the best life. We all were so happy. We lived in a farm community outside of Eufaula, Oklahoma. Dad opened his business in town. He might’ve been an attorney working in a small town, but he was by far a small attorney. He was well respected by the towns' people.
We had a small farm just outside of town. Farm life was wonderful. My favorite thing in the whole world was gathering eggs. I sighed. It was funny how the most mundane things could bring such great pleasure. I would always cherish the memories.
If I had a time machine, I’d go back to that period and stop Dad from jogging that morning. Even delaying it for a minute or two, our lives would’ve been differently today. He’d be alive, and Sara would be a much better person. I withdrew a pain
ful sigh.
Drawing me back to the present, I heard Sara’s heels clanking against the title floor. I didn’t understand how she could wear heels waitressing. I sat up straight, shoulder back. I needed to have my questions in order if I was going to get anywhere with her today. Pulling answers from Sara was like pulling teeth from a rhino wide-awake.
The plate of curly fries was sizzling as Sara set the pile in front of me. I eyeballed the chocolate shake. I couldn’t wait for it as I snatched it up first.
Sara settled into the seat across from me, sipping on her coffee. We shared a moment of quiet while I ate my salty fries.
To my surprise, Sara was the first to start. “Did you have a nice chat with Fran?” She sipped on her coffee.
Oh, brother! “Why?” I wanted to avoid this subject altogether.
“I hope you will give him a chance. He’s pretty special to me.” Sara looked away, sipping her coffee. I noted the tension rolling off her shoulders.
I couldn’t do the pretense any longer. My face soured like an ass kicking and a fifth of whiskey. “What do you see in him?” I dropped my fry back in the plate.
Sara’s head snapped up at me. “What did you say?”
“Mom, I mean that I don’t understand why you like him?”
She snarled. “If you’d give him five minutes of your time and cut out your shitty attitude, you might find that he’s very likable.”
“Mom, he’s a loser, and he’s closer to my age than yours,” I argued.
“Age is only a number. Francis makes me happy.” Sara was on the defense. Forget the cougar, more like a snaggletooth tiger, I thought sarcastically.
“He’s a creep!” I gawked at Sara.
“Fran isn’t a bad man, he’s different.” She defended him. I didn’t expect anything less.
“Whatever!” I folded my arms. What was the point in arguing? Sara was hell bent on keeping Fran.
“If it weren't for the landlord, he’d be living with us.” Sara sounded like a child who didn’t get her candy. “I’ve never met the man. I’ve dealt with his butler. He’s probably some old fart.”
I held back a smile. “Sorry to hear that.” Inside I was breaking out in my happy dance.
Sara snorted. “I bet you are.” She turned her back to me stewing like I had something to do with the landlord’s rules.
“If you give me the landlord’s information, I’ll handle him.” I was glad she mentioned him. I needed his contact info.
“Oh, no you don’t! I ain’t givin’ you nothin’. The last time I gave you that information, you made me look like a fool!”
I rolled my eyes inwardly. “That’s because you didn’t pay the rent!”
“What are you talking about? I gave that man his money.”
I think Sara really believed her own lies. I didn’t want to get into it, so I changed the subject. “Mom, have you heard any news about Dad’s case?”
Sara’s body went rigid. “What do you mean?” I listened to the disquiet in her voice.
“I mean, have the police called on any new findings concerning Dad’s case?”
“No, I haven’t heard a peep.” Her face pinched. “That’s one mystery that will never get resolved.”
My brows furrowed, confused. “Why do you say that?”
“It’s been ten years. The police have not found any evidence. Too much time has gone by. The case is now a cold case.” She sipped her coffee. “It’s a waste of time.”
I hated her cavalier attitude.
“Mom, how can it be a waste of time? If that were you or me, Dad would’ve never stop looking for the killer until justice had been found.”
“Oh, stop making Jon into a martyr. He wasn’t a saint!” Sara snapped, quickly veering off into hostility.
“And you are?” I replied with reckless ire.
“Watch what you say to me. Fran’s on the other side of those doors. He won’t tolerate you sassing me.” Holy crap! Sara was threatening me with her new boyfriend.
I leaned in so only she could hear me. “I think we both know that your boy is doomed.” I leaned back holding my keen eyes on Sara.
She squirmed. “You act like I’m jinx!”
“Remember Charles?”
“I don’t care to talk about him.” She tossed over her shoulder.
I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Sara was a master at skirting around the question. I pushed further. “Then let’s talk about why you have to move every other month.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
I leaned forward, staring at her back. “Okay, have it your way but you need to know that I’m contacting the Eufaula police.
Sara turned to face me, lips tightened. I bet her pink lipstick tasted like venom right now. “You need to move on and forget about Jon.”
I didn’t understand how Sara could dismiss Dad’s death so easily. I bit out. “I’ll move on when Dad’s killer is locked behind bars!”
“I am sure that person is paying for his mishaps in one way or another.” It was like Sara to dismiss Dad’s death. I think she thought if we didn’t talk about it, it’d go away.
“Dad deserves our loyalty!” My anger was starting to brew.
“Your father is dead.” The coldness in Sara’s voice was staggering. “He’s no more than bones now. Move on! I have.”
I scoffed. “How can you say that?” My voice broke. “Moving on isn’t jumping from one abandoned town after another, living in cheap hotels and being homeless, eating out of garbage cans!”
A muscle flicked angrily along Sara’s jawline. “I’m getting tired of your piss poor attitude! You’d be much happier finding a hobby than hanging on my skirt tail.”
“Fine!” I hissed through my teeth. Before I could stop myself, I shoved all the dishes off the table, sending them crashing to the floor in a flurry. The dishes hit with such force that the clatter echoed throughout the whole diner.
When my gaze lifted, I noticed several pairs of marbled eyes watching. The diner became still.
Instantly I felt stifled, and I couldn’t bear to look at Sara’s face anymore. I slid from the booth and in my fleeting moment, I lashed out at her. “All my life, it’s been about you! You’ve cared more about your boyfriends and your liquor than you have concerned yourself with me.” I paused, looking her straight in the eye. “I wonder at times if I’m even your daughter.”
Sara's eyes ignited. “You have no idea, missy, what I’ve sacrificed. And I am dearly paying for it now. So don’t you go throwing your shit at me!” Sara hissed.
I opened my mouth to argue but then I held back my tongue. There was no point in carrying this conversation any further. Sara, like always, never saw her wrong. She acted as if she was the victim.
I refused to stand here another minute. I spun on my heels and darted out the diner. In a matter of seconds, I was on my bike and down the street, putting distance between that woman and me.
Third Encounter
The first week of school had passed, and I’d survived. Gina had pretty much resigned to leaving me alone except for an occasional eye roll. I could deal with that. I’d become more acquainted with Sam and Jen. I viewed Sally as collateral damage.
First class, English, when I entered the room, Sally jerked her head up and smiled brightly, far too brightly. I hated happy people in the morning before I’ve had at least five cups of coffee. With Sally, ten cups might pull me through the suffering of her unabating yammering.
I dropped my books on my desk and flopped down in my seat. My eyes cut to the desk behind me. It was vacant another day. Bane had taken absence for the last week. I wondered if I’d seen the last of him. Maybe his family reconsidered and decided to leave this dead town. Lucky dog. Wish I could do the same.
Without wasting a minute, Sally swiveled in her seat facing me. Oh, brother! “Good morning!” Staring at her loud orange clothing and overzealous smile was giving me a headache. I longed for a pair of shades and aspirin.
“What you reading?” Sally asked, carefree like.
I sighed with a huff as I flashed the book up showing her the cover. Then I went back to reading or attempting to read.
“To Kill a Mockingbird. That doesn’t sound very exciting.” She leaned over to peek at the page I had open.
My head snapped up, feeling slightly bothered. “It’s a classic. You’ve never had a reading assignment?”
“Yeah, but not that book.” She shrugged. “I usually just look at the cheat notes.”
I rolled my eyes not surprised. “You’ve never heard of Harper Lee. Her book won the Pulitzer Prize.”
“Oh,” she shrugged. “Unless it has a cute boy, I’m not interested.”
“There’s more to life than ogling a boy.” Sally reminded me of a horse with blinders.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Sally probed.
Now she was fishing. “Nope! Don’t have time.” I went back to reading.
“I make time. I’d rather have a boyfriend than reading some old book that’s not even current.”
Okay, I think Sally just threw some shade at me. I dropped my book on my desk. “My book isn’t boring. The author happens to be a renowned writer. And dating is pointless.”
“Why do you say that?”
I frowned. “Why start something I can’t finish?” I shrugged. I didn’t care much for exposing my wound to Sally. Sara’s constant need for jump-skipping town after town was a sore spot for me.
