Returning to the table, I notice another woman has arrived. She’s talking as I walk up to them. “Is James just the happiest man on earth or what?” the woman asks with a twinkling giggle.
“Oh my gosh, at first he was surprised, but last night he came home with onesies and a teddy bear. He is so excited, keeps saying he doesn’t care what it is, but I know he is dying for a boy.” My feet trip, but I gather my composure almost immediately as I set the drinks down.
“Sweet tea,” the other woman announces. With a small nod, I hurry away, not wanting to hear any more about how fantastic that asshole is.
I quickly deliver her tea then take their orders. Thankfully, they don’t ask for anything too specific and complicated so I’m able to leave their table quickly. I check on the rest of my tables before I’m able to slip into the kitchen and take a deep breath for myself.
“Heard you got yourself in trouble,” Lulamae announces with a pop of her gum.
Lifting my eyes to her, I nod as tears fill them. She shakes her head. “Hard being a pretty girl in a small town. I was once in your shoes. Found me a good man, eventually. Slept with a lot of frogs to get there,” she states.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m in this alone.” I shrug. “No more frogs, not ever,” I state as the cook points at me to tell me my next order is up.
Lulamae laughs shaking her head. “Don’t count on it, hun. You’re pretty, young, and bun in the oven or not, some man will want in there,” she winks.
I don’t respond to her statement as I take the two plates from the counter. Carrying them out, I walk slowly to the table. Inhaling a deep breath, I hope and pray that I can get in and run far away without any issues.
“You think he’s finally ditched that little whore he’d been seeing on the side?” Jennifer’s friend asks, taking a sip of tea.
I drop one of the plates with a thud. Both women’s eyes turn to me, and I know I’m white as a sheet. I know, without a doubt that I look as sick as I feel. “Sorry,” I mumble. Scooting the plates in front of the women I ask if they need anything else.
“Nope,” Jennifer says, her P popping.
Looking down to her, I frown slightly. Her hand quickly wraps around mine and she squeezes. I freeze, unable to move as her hand grips my own. “Stay away. I know it was you, you little homewrecking whore,” she hisses.
I hear her friend giggle as I yank my wrist out of her grasp. I take a couple steps back, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. Without saying anything, I turn and hurry toward the back of the restaurant, to the bathroom.
Locking myself in one of the two stalls, I bury my face in my hands and I cry. She’s not wrong. She’s not right either. I didn’t wreck her home. I didn’t pursue James. He came onto me. Then, he abandoned me when I needed him most.
She has him. She has his love, his support, all of him. I have nothing. Nothing except this baby he put inside of me. He left my heart shredded into a million pieces. He used me for his own pleasure, knowing he would never leave her for me. Knowing he could manipulate me.
He’s doing it with someone else, now, I guarantee. A man like that, he will never quit. Why is it that I still love him? Still want him, and think that I need him? Why does it hurt so damn bad?
“Hun?” Lulamae calls out.
“Almost done,” I say, attempting to have a strong voice. Knowing no doubt that it trembles and wavers.
“Went again and checked on all your tables. You just take a minute. Heard what the bitch said to you. Take your time,” she whispers.
Me and Lulamae aren’t close, but I respect her, like her too. Today I love her. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply then let out an exhale. Standing, I open the stall door and walk over to the mirror. Splashing some water on my face, I use a paper towel to dry myself off.
My blue eyes meet my reflection and they look so damn sad, but beyond that, they look scared and heartbroken. I need to let go of James. I need to focus on this life growing inside of me. That is what’s important. That is all that matters. This baby. Nothing else.
Giving myself a shake, I turn toward the door and with my head held high I walk back into work. I’m thankful that when I return the two bitches are gone. I walk over to their table and roll my eyes when I see that they haven’t even left me so much as a penny for a tip.
Figures.
There’s a slip of paper folded in the middle of the table. Picking it up, I chance unfolding it. I shouldn’t. I should just throw it in the trash, but I’m too curious.
Do yourself a favor.
Leave town.
-J
Crumpling the paper in my fist, I toss it back onto the table. The busboy appears behind me and I smile. “Thanks, Braydon.” Walking away from him, I put Jennifer and James behind me. I need to focus on my job, then tonight I’ll drown myself in a pint of cheap ice cream and cry.
I cannot let her affect me. I cannot let him affect me. I’m done. I’m twenty years old and about to become a mother. He no longer factors into my life. My life is all about me and this baby, nobody else.
Chapter Three
RYLAN
“Fuck,” I groan.
Hand digging holes. Who thought this job would be hand digging fucking holes? I grunt, pushing the shovel down and taking out another load of dirt. I’m not complaining though, not really. I’d rather be doing this than anything in prison.
Wyatt is a journeyman power lineman. He climbs power poles and works on electricity. My official title is ground hand, but in laymen’s terms, I’m a goddamn grunt. A thirty-year-old grunt, and honest to fuck, I don’t mind it one bit. Maybe one day I’ll get to be on a pole like Wyatt. It’s fucking fascinating watching him work.
Using the back of my hand, I wipe away the sheet of sweat that’s gathered on my forehead. “You almost done with that, fucker?” Wyatt asks, walking up to me.
I’m surprised to see him on the ground. Last time I looked up from my hole, he was forty-five feet in the air, in his bucket truck. “Fixin’ to be,” I grin.
He shakes his head, lifting his hand and slapping me on the shoulder. “Finish that one and we’ll go to lunch,” he states.
“Lunch?”
This entire week we’ve eaten whatever we’ve brought with us in lunch bags. I don’t mind. Saves me from having to borrow even more money from Wyatt. Although today is Friday, I’ll get my first paycheck.
Wyatt already told me I could use half to pay him back, and the other half to get me by until the next week. Not that the check will be much. Granted I’ll be paid for ten hours of overtime, but at twelve bucks an hour, it doesn’t really add up to much.
Even twelve dollars an hour of hard labor is better than using and dealing. They’re giving me a chance, Wyatt is giving me a chance, and I’m not going to fucking waste even a second of it.
“On Fridays we go to the diner, or somewhere nearby. Today the diner is close,” he shrugs. “Finish that up and come to the truck, foreman’s drivin’.”
Lifting my chin, I turn back to my hole. Working a little harder, and faster, knowing that three other guys are waiting on me, I try to finish up quickly. Once the hole is the right depth, I carry my tools over to Wyatt’s truck and lock them away. Then, I head over to the waiting and running, foreman’s truck.