“What can I get you?” I asked them, tray under my arm.
“You look familiar,” one of the guys said. “Do I know you?” He leered at me, trying to look into the shallow V neck of myt-shirt. Roy was always pestering me to go deeper with the Vs, but my cleavage was my own, thank you very much.
I knew who this guy was. Nicholas Barnes, Nick, the wide receiver when Luke had been quarterback.
“Nope, I don’t think so. You guys want to start a tab?”
They ordered, then Luke quickly stood up. “I’ll help you carry it,” he told me, as I looked at him curiously.
“You know, I’m a waitress. It’s my job to carry stuff,” I commented as we sidestepped tables on the way to the bar. But my heart was beating a little faster, and I was glad that I’d worn my pink t-shirt. It was a good color for me—
“I wanted to ask you about Cassie,” he interrupted my thoughts. “I heard she’s sick.”
I turned my attention to the beer tap and began filling four mugs. “Yes, she has cancer.” I glanced up at him. His lips were pursed and he shook his head.
“Man, that’s too bad. Just like her mom.” He paused. “I mean, your mom too. I’m sorry.”
“That’s ok. Loretta wasn’t my mom. Step-mom.” But yes, she had cancer also. And died, way too young.
“That’s right. Is Cassie doing ok?”
I shrugged. “Sort of.” I really didn’t feel like giving out my sister’s health information here in Roy’s.
“Could I stop by and see her?”
I quickly shook my head. “No, I don’t think she’s up for that.” Cassie wouldn’t want him to see her like she was. Vanity hadalways been her Achilles’ heel, but in this case, I didn’t blame her. I put the beers on the tray and he started to reach for them. “No, I have it. Balanced.”
An hour later I had served them three more rounds, but Luke had stopped after the second mug and left that half-full. They were catching up and reminiscing, I gathered, when I picked up their empties. The bar was still hopping when I felt the phone in my back pocket vibrate. Crap. I glanced over at Roy, but he was busy with a customer, so I quickly opened the door to the storage room and slid in.
“What’s up, pal? You ok?”
I heard sniffling on the other end. Crap, crap, crap.
“Charlie? Did you have a nightmare? Talk to me, sweat pea.”
“My tummy hurts, real bad,” he whispered. “I’m sick.”
I blew out a deep breath. I had another hour left of my shift. “Pal, I can’t...”
He started sobbing. “I feel sick, Emmy. And my mom said to stop making noise and go back to sleep, but I can’t, I’m sorry!”
I felt my face get hot from anger. She couldn’t help it, I reminded myself. She was sick too.
“Ok, it’s ok. I’m coming home now. Try to calm down and drink a little water if you can.”
“Ok,” he whispered.
Roy was not pleased, to say the least. “Sugar, I pay you to work a full shift,” he told me, shooting daggers at me from brown eyes perennially at half-mast.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” The customers seated on the barstools listened avidly to our conversation. I felt like telling them to get another hobby, the lushes.
The night was colder, and the sky was huge with stars as I hurried into the parking lot. I put the key into the lock of the El D and knew I was in trouble when I hauled open the heavy door and the dome light didn’t come on. I turned the key in the ignition, hoping against hope, but this time there was no retching noise forthcoming. The car was dead.
I got out and opened the hood. What was I even looking for? I poked around the engine a little, wishing I had taken auto shop. Well, Loretta hadn’t taken me to church for all those years for nothing and it couldn’t hurt now. Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women…
“Need a jump?” a deep voice asked, and I almost leaped into the engine in fright.
“Jesus!” I gasped, turning to look at Luke Whitaker.
