Sally cashed up her till and clocked out before heading into the staffroom and began to untie her apron. She always tied it with a double knot to stop it undoing throughout her shift. She took pride in her appearance. It was something she’d been brought up on.
Look good, wear a smile, and things will be alright.
She wasn’t sure if she believed that anymore. Things weren’t always alright. They hadn’t been alright for a long time. Life had been hard, and time had been cruel. Sometimes so cruel that Sally felt like giving in because the heavy responsibility was just too much for one woman to take. But she didn’t give up because she loved her little boy and a future without her by his side, caring for him, would mean an even worse life for him.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, Sally.”
She turned to see Jackson leaning against the doorframe, a grin on his podgy face. He looked up at her through his dark lashes, a hint of the man he once was shining through.
“I’m not asking for much, just one date.” He held up a finger and moved towards her. “I bet you’d be surprised how well we got on. You just need to give me a chance.”
Sally had been prom queen. She’d had a glittering future laid out in front of her before she’d met Taylor’s daddy and had gotten pregnant. Then her life had tail-spun out of control and her future career of being an anchor-woman for Channel Four had crashed and burned. She’d barely graduated high school. And now she was a walking statistic.
Jackson noticed her step back from him and he frowned. “Don’t go being like that, darlin’. You know you ain’t got nothing to worry about with me. I’m a teddy bear compared to some men. I can do right by you, if you let me.”
Sally frowned right back at him and forced herself to stop moving. To turn and face the lion in front of her with grit and charm. “I have to get back to Taylor. I’ll see you at five tomorrow for my shift.” She lifted her chin and forced a pleasant smile. “I cashed out already.” She turned, opened her small locker, and retrieved her purse before turning back around to face him with another smile.
“I could look after you and that boy of yours.”
“We’re fine, but thank you,” Sally said. She swallowed and looked him in the eye, holding the smile on her face.
Jackson didn’t smile back, choosing instead to stare long and hard at her until the air seemed to leave the room and she felt uncomfortable. “No shift tomorrow, sorry, darlin’,” he replied, shrugging unapologetically. “It’s so quiet at the moment,” he sneered. “Damn heatwave is killing off the customers. But I’ll call you if I need you, and maybe you’ll do the same, huh?” He licked his lips before he turned on his heel and left the room.
Sally bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands as she grounded herself, stabilizing herself in the moment so that she didn’t scream out her frustrations. Her gut twisted in anger and defeat, but she refused to cry. Not for this man.
She’d sort something out. She always did. She had to.
*
On her way out of the diner, she paid for the woman’s pie, and the small act brought a smile to her face. She couldn’t afford to buy strangers pie, she couldn’t even afford to buy herself pie, but sometimes you had to see past your own problems for others, and so she had done it anyway, and she had felt good about doing it.
The drive back to the small apartment she shared with her little boy, Taylor, was short. The smell of greasy food clung to her skin and hair and she looked forward to getting home and showering. One of the only perks to the job at the diner was the closeness to her home. If anything were to happen with Taylor she could always be back with him within ten minutes. So far, Jackson had been okay when she’d to leave urgently. She couldn’t help but wonder how much longer that would go on for.
She opened the front door and headed inside. It was dim in the apartment, the curtains drawn to help keep out the heat. The air conditioning had stopped working over a month ago, and she hadn’t had the money to get it fixed yet since all her money was going towards Taylor’s hospital bills. Though the windows were cracked open, it did little to ward off the heat and the air felt heavy and sluggish.
Just another thing to add to the list of things that needed fixing.
Sally slipped off her shoes by the door, her feet grateful for the break from the uncomfortable pumps that she wore to work. Then she headed into the lounge. Where she found Mrs. Harris from next door fast asleep in her chair, as usual. Taylor was playing on his own with his cars on the rug by her feet. Two cars racing each other along an invisible track.
He looked up at her and smiled.
That smile took her breath away. Every single time.
“Mama!” Taylor jumped up and ran to her, knocking Mrs. Harris’s chair and waking her as he did.
Sally scooped up her little boy into her arms and hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head. She looked at Mrs. Harris over his shoulder and smiled. Taylor was still dressed in his pajamas, but she didn’t mind. He was comfier wearing just the soft cotton t-shirt and pants instead of rough clothes with buttons and zippers that would dig into his sensitive skin.
Mrs. Harris was a little over seventy and loved looking after Taylor. Her own grandchildren had moved away to Canada with their mother and father sometime last year, and she rarely saw them anymore. But she was getting on in her years now and looking after a sick but bouncy five-year-old was hard work for anyone.
“You’re early, did your day go okay?” Mrs. Harris stood up, shuffling her feet back into her aging pink slippers and headed to the door to go home as she spoke. Her hair was thick, and almost pure white, and always tied into a tight knot at the base of her neck.
Sally nodded. “It did.” She smiled without pause, not wanting to worry the older lady with her problems. Everyone had problems, it didn’t matter who they were, it was how you dealt with them that made you strong or weak. Sally believed she was strong. She had to be. “How has he been today? Did he manage to eat anything?”
Taylor’s nausea was what bothered him the most. He had gone from a happy five-year-old eating burgers and French fries to feeling sick constantly, nausea ruling his life and stopping him from wanting to eat anything.
“He’s been a delight as always. And he ate a little, but not much. I’ll see you tomorrow, Taylor.” Mrs. Harris picked up her overly large knitting bag and opened the front door. “Four-thirty, right?” she asked, looking back in.
Sally shook her head and placed Taylor down. “Go play, baby. I’ll be over in a minute.” Taylor went back to his cars, happier now that his mamma was home. Sally met Mrs. Harris by the door, but couldn’t meet her gaze. “No, I won’t need you tomorrow. There’s no shift for me. Jackson said the diner is too quiet.”
