Chapter One #3
Mom seemed to gather herself and smiled at the girl, who smiled back. “Thank you for the drinks, Maria. I’m Ruth, and this is my daughter, Holly. You guys look about the same age! She could use someone to show her around.”
I groaned and slumped in my seat. “Mom, please do not force me off onto some hapless girl like a lost puppy.”
Maria’s lip twitched, like she wanted to laugh.
“You would be a very unusual puppy. I heard you’re from Cali?
Maybe I could call you Sunny?” I gaped at her, then reached for my straw like I had suddenly become very interested in trying the drink she had brought over.
Of course, I dropped the stupid thing, and Maria bent over to grab it for me.
I bent over at the same time, and that was when I saw it.
A familiar blue-purple. Another spot of fading yellow.
Her eyes met mine, and she practically threw the straw down and said. “Enjoy your tea!” before disappearing into the back of the restaurant.
I stared after her, trying to process what I had just seen.
Someone had hurt her, like really hurt her.
That one bruise had been fresh, too. No wonder she was wearing the jacket.
What else was she hiding? I was pulled from my racing thoughts by my mother coughing and spluttering like she was a victim of waterboarding.
I looked over at her as she set the glass of tea down on the table and raised an eyebrow in question.
She gestured at the glass. “That is positively foul. That girl said it was tea, and I took a big sip, thinking it would be a nice bit of refreshment from this heat. I think I’ll just stick with the water.
” She pushed it away from her like it might bite and took a hesitant sip of the water before smiling at me.
I tried the tea myself, still thinking of Maria, and found myself agreeing with my mother.
It wasn’t as bad as she had made it out to be, but I could practically feel the sugar gathering on my tongue.
Hard pass. A little tea with your sugar, anyone?
She pulled out her phone while we waited for our food, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
A few minutes later, Maria came back out with a massive tray carefully balanced on her shoulder.
This time, I was sure she had the wrong table.
She didn’t speak much, just naming the dishes as she set them down.
Mom’s salad. My chicken fried steak. A bowl of collards, whatever that was.
Mashed potatoes. Corn on the cob. Yams, which looked like a suspicious pile of orange covered in marshmallows.
And pinto beans. Momma Laverne appeared behind her with a plate of something she called cornbread.
My mother stared at the food, which was easily enough to feed ten people.
I stared at Maria, who seemed very determined to pretend like I wasn’t there.
Momma Laverne ushered Maria back to the kitchen, leaving us alone with our food.
I wasn’t even sure where to start. The smell was unbelievable.
My brain didn’t know what to think, but my mouth watered.
I decided to start with something familiar, reaching for the mashed potatoes as Mom poked at her salad, which was more pieces of chicken and ranch than it was lettuce and other veggies.
Right before I went to take a bite, I glanced over at the kitchen and saw Laverne poking her head over the top of the saloon style door, waiting to see me take my first bite.
Her bushy head disappeared as soon as we made eye contact, like she had been caught snooping, and I smiled.
The second the potatoes hit my tongue, I decided I was never going back to California unless I could take Momma Laverne with me.
They were rich and buttery, with little chunks of potato and even some potato skins in them.
I had never had them as anything but a pureed, snow-white mass.
I reached eagerly for the corn on the cob and took a bite, enjoying the way it squirted in the most unladylike fashion over my chin.
I glanced up at my mom, who was frowning at me, and rolled my eyes when she pushed the napkins towards me.
Not now, Mother. Busy getting lost in food heaven here.
My exploration into the collards and yams was more tentative but if this is what Southern cooking had to offer, we should’ve moved years ago. There goes my waistline.
About twenty minutes later, I was leaning back in the booth.
My mom had long since pushed her half-eaten salad to the side and had watched me eat like I was seconds away from starvation.
I was so dang full they were going to have to roll me out of here.
I was not entirely sure I could even fit in my mom’s little sports car either.
Through my sated bliss, I caught sight of Maria slipping into the bathroom.
Full or not, I still desperately wanted to find out about that bruise.
Which felt more than a little hypocritical, as I had secrets of my own that I was in no hurry to share.
Pushing that pesky thought to the side, I got up to follow her.
The tiny bathroom had two stalls that looked like they should’ve been one, and the fluorescent light overhead was flickering like it was barely hanging onto life.
Unlike the restaurant, it reeked of cleaning products and a cheap lemony spray that made me feel like I was suffocating.
I wanted to leave immediately but instead made a show of checking my makeup in the mirror, waiting for Maria to come out of the last stall.
She must not have heard me come in, because she had taken her jacket off and hadn’t pulled it back on quite yet.
I turned to her as she looked up at me, and we both froze.
It wasn’t just two bruises, it was several.
In her cut-off tank top, I could see them scattered everywhere.
Her arms, her chest, her abdomen. I literally felt sick.
“I thought I locked the door.”
“You didn’t.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“Not saying I do.” We stared at each other for a minute, and then she looked down.
Now that I was here, I had no idea what to say.
She was clearly uncomfortable. But I knew that look in her eyes cause I had seen it countless times in my own.
The fear, the shame, the wondering why. So, I just said something that countless people had told me.
A little tidbit of truth I was still fighting to believe.
“You’re not alone, you know. And it’s not your fault. ”
She looked up at me, “You think you know me—”
“I think I’m a girl in a really, really gross bathroom who saw something I couldn’t just ignore.”
She glanced at the floor again and then muttered, “I have to get back to work. Some of us have bills to pay.”
I didn’t take offense. Not only was it true, but I saw it for what it was, a defensive barb meant to keep people away.
I looked at her for a minute, taking in her beat-up sneakers, torn skinny jeans, and makeup-less face.
We were so different, we came from different worlds, but somehow, I had a feeling we were very much the same.
Except she was softer than I was. And I had already started outrunning my demons and, though I had a long way to go, she was still running with them at her side.
I had been there once. “I’ll go back to my table. Sorry for sneaking up on you.”
At the table, Mom was fending off Laverne, who was trying to give her an entire pie.
Mom gave in and thanked her for her hospitality.
Momma Laverne winked at me as Mom headed for the door, and I smiled at her before grabbing the pen sitting on top of the check and writing my number on a spare napkin.
If Maria wanted, I was here. I refused to let another girl dance with her demons alone. Not if I could help it.