“You sure you don’t want some pie with that? Coffee always taste better with a slice of pie.”
Delores looked up at the overly friendly waitress. She read her little white name tag—Sally. Sally spoke with a drawl that didn’t sound familiar to the area, over pronouncing theIin the word pie so that it sounded more like ay. Her auburn hair was piled high up on her head in a tight ponytail, a slight kink to the end of it that hinted at hidden curls.
She was pretty—pretty without even trying. The kind of woman that would have been cheerleader captain in high school and most definitely crowned prom queen. And yet now, her life was this: serving coffee to truckers in a diner just off the highway. A dead-end job that would lead to a dead-end future unless she escaped soon. Yet, her face was kind. Tired but kind, and still full of so much life.
Life.Life was so short.
You never really understood how short it was until it was too late.
Until you blinked and your reflection was no longer that of your youthful self. Instead you were looking in dismay at your sagging skin and tired eyes. But still, life went on. Until it didn’t, of course. Until the last breath left you as quickly and abruptly as the first breath had come. Like the slap of air into a baby’s lungs right after being birthed into a strange and frightening world.
“No thank you, just the coffee will do,” Delores replied.
She wondered, for a brief moment, if Sally still had all of her hopes and dreams. Her aspirations for a better life far from here. She wondered if she dreamed of more than this; the right here and the right now. She looked like she did. Even with the creeping tiredness around her eyes, and the worry that was hidden behind her perfect, too-sweet smile. Yes, it was plain to see that this woman still dreamed. She still hoped. Unlike Delores.
“You sure? Because you know, my grandpa always used to say that a problem always seemed easier to work through with a belly full of pie.” Sally smiled again, leaning over the counter to refill Delores cup, her low-cut top revealing too much cleavage. But it was unintentional, not deliberate in any way. The uniform was too tight for her and she pulled at the top half self-consciously. Unhappy, but not complaining. She smiled wider, her eyes meeting Delores’s.
“Your grandpa sounds like a wise man.” Delores smiled though the expression never reached her eyes. “But I’m not hungry.”
They stared at each other for a quiet moment. Two women, alike in so many ways, and yet so very different. Where Sally still had life burning bright inside of her—her spirit still fighting, still clawing for existence—Delores had nothing but blackness.
And she had no one to blame but herself.
Sally still held hope, but Delores never would again.
The pretty waitress patted Delores’s hand kindly before wandering off to serve someone else and Delores turned her attention to the world outside the steamed-up window of the rundown diner.
Summer was at full height. The bright July sun burning down on the cracked blacktop and sending heat waves up into the sky. It was hypnotic, staring at them, watching the strange steam dancing, like souls being released to the heavens. They seemed restless and empowered all at the same time.
Delores sighed heavily.
Restless. Yeah, she knew that feeling. She was restless too. But she didn’t feel empowered, she felt weak, like something had been stolen from her. There was an empty space buried deep inside her and no matter how much she tried to fill the space, it was like there was a hole in the bottom of it and everything leaked back out.
The only thing that remained was the horror of what she’d done.
The blood, the cries, the terror that gripped her heart.
And then the emptiness that remained after it.
The blankness that lived inside of her, mocking her fragility.
Her head throbbed; there was so much in there, trapped inside her skull begging to get out, but when she reached for the desperate thoughts, they slithered away like worms hiding from the sun.
She looked down into her coffee cup again, the inky liquid almost magnetic in its pull on her. She picked it up and took a long swallow, the bitterness sliding down her parched throat. Ironic really, that she would be thankful for a mouth full of bad coffee.
How life changes, ebbing backwards and forwards, forever shifting like the tide of the ocean, and yet, all the while going nowhere.
But not Delores. Shewasgoing somewhere. She had a place to be, a reason for living, for breathing. At least for the moment.
When she got there, to her destination, her torment would be over, forever.
Everyone’s would be over.
She’d get what she deserved, and she accepted that fate with ease.
It was, after all, the very least she deserved.
She sighed again and stood up, before pulling the slender straps of her purse over her thin shoulder, and placed money on the counter for her coffee.
