Maggie
The gas gauge was nearing E, and there was only one dollar left from the tips I managed to scrape together after my shift. The snow was thicker here in this small, no-name town. This wasn’t Bronxville like I thought. I’d missed my exit and was at least two towns from where I needed to be.
I’d never make it to my aunt’s. In reality, I wouldn’t make it another mile. Not with the snow, a snoring baby, and no money to get me there.
I had to face facts. I was lost. Stuck in some Hallmark-movie version of Little Italy. I gazed out the windshield, taking in the twinkling Christmas lights, and sigh. The only thing making this town remotely shady was my secondhand rust bucket of a car. It was idling on the street across from a cozy-looking restaurant that, from the looks of it, the entire town seemed to be at in celebration.
Everyone but me.
Because I was stranded.
And lost.
And a little pathetic.
Because my boss was an idiot.
Kip, the diner’s manager, didn’t care that my sitter flaked out on me. He didn’t care that I was left with a sick six-month-old with three hours left in the busiest part of the Christmas Eve rush. Kip only cared that Mateo, my sweet son, was crying loud enough to disturb the customers.
“Shut him up, Maggie, or get the fuck out of my diner,” the asshole who made the Grinch seem sweet yelled at me.
“But...” I needed half an hour to get him calm, then Vi, another waitress, would finish her shift and take him off my hands. But Kip didn’t care about anything but the rush and the baby crying in my arms.
“I just need…”
“You need to go home and take that screaming brat with you.”
He wouldn’t get my tears. “What about my tips…and my check?”
“You can square that up on your next shift.” He winced as Mateo’s crying grew louder, his shoulders curling as if the sound of a baby’s cry was going to make his ears bleed.
“Kip, I need that money to get back to my aunt’s tonight,” I begged, rocking Mateo, hoping to quiet him.
“Not my problem,” Kip growled, making me flinch.
Mateo seemed to pick up on my fear and screamed louder, his sobs drawing the attention of the customers. Kip threw up his hands and hurried into his office, slamming the door in my face before I could make him see reason.
“Ay, Dios mío…” I whispered, staring at the door, my eyes growing wet, my heart pounding.
“You all right, sugar?” Vi’s soft, rasping voice sounded over Mateo’s cries.
I turned, blinking quickly to keep myself from crying. “Kip’s just being…”
She’d always been so sweet to me. Like a mother—or, from the looks of her white hair and deeply lined face, grandmother was probably more accurate. But Vi had her own troubles. Everyone did. She didn’t need any of mine.
“A rotten prick?” The older lady shook her head as she glared at the closed door. “Always has been, always will be.” She tugged her purse over her shoulder, glancing down at Mateo’s red face, her focus on the way he pulled at his ear. “He’s teething.”
“What?” I asked, peering down at my son.
Vi nodded, touching the baby’s chin to open his mouth. “Run your finger over his gums.”
Mateo went quiet at my touch. There were two small ridges that scraped against my fingertip, making me wince.
Vi smiled, brushing the thick hair from his forehead. “Get him a teething ring. If you can’t afford that, stick a wet rag in the freezer, and when it’s ready, let him chew on it. If that doesn’t work, dip the damn thing in some whiskey. It won’t hurt him and might give him and you a little relief.” She exhaled, staring atmijolike she’d never seen anything sweeter. “If you don’t have any whiskey, I’ll steal some from Albert when he passes out.”
That would be bad for Vi. Her husband was the kind of drunk who probably kept a close eye on his stash.
Mateo calmed a little, his small body slumping against my chest as I followed Vi toward the door. “I didn’t know you had kids.”
