16. Violet
CHAPTER 16
VIOLET
I wipe at the table like my life depends on it. My elbow is starting to hurt. Part of me says I should hurry up and finish wiping down so I can head out to my car. If I stay behind after everyone else, then I’m setting myself up for another situation with Jay.
And while part of me desperately wants to have sex with him again, I’m not sure if it’s the right choice. I was so sure about it two nights ago, but when I woke up yesterday morning, it felt wrong.
I never wanted to avoid Jay, but I’ve also never been great at expressing my emotions. It’s part of why I couldn’t just tell Jay that being friends with benefits isn’t enough for me when he suggested it. I want more, but I know he isn’t open to more. He just wants the sex.
And then, when someone else catches his eye, he’ll drift away. And I have to accept that, because it’s what I signed up for.
I want to talk to him, I really do, but I can’t bring myself to be honest.
I can imagine the conversation right now. Jay would stare at me like I’m an alien with two heads. “You like me? I thought we agreed to sex only. I don’t want anything else. I’m a guy. You’re hot. What do you expect? You’re way too grumpy to try to maintain a real relationship with.”
Maybe he wouldn’t say it quite like that, but I can read the look in his eyes. I know what it means. He sees me as a woman, as a body, as someone who can make him come way better than he can with his own hand.
But that’s where it ends.
Hannah warned me about this—about his treatment of women, and I ignored her warning. Now, here I am, stuck in a situation that no woman should ever have to deal with.
I take the tray of empty and half-empty cups up to the counter. Jerry and Jay have both moved into the kitchen, so I go through the process of rinsing out the glasses quickly to ready them for the dishwasher. If I move quickly enough, I can be out of here before either of them reappears.
Harold, our last customer who always likes to stay late, is sipping at the dregs of his beer, and I feel his eyes on me. “Everything alright, Violet?”
Normally, someone like him talking to me, learning my name, and constantly starting up conversations would set off alarm bells in my head. But there’s something about Harold that doesn’t quite do that.
I slow down in my crazy dish-washing pattern to figure out how I want to answer him. Do I tell him the truth? Or do I keep putting on a brave front?
I decide that I’m not ready to delve into things. I keep my eyes trained on the glasses. “Just a busy night.”
“Busy nights can be stressful, especially when you’ve got a demanding table like you did. I saw them calling to you every two minutes.”
I smile because the other option is to break down in tears, and that’s not something I’ll allow myself to do. “Yeah, they were needy. But the tip wasn’t bad. So… it all works out in the end.”
Harold continues to watch me, and I feel like his gaze is piercing through the front I’ve put on to the real me underneath.
Just as I’m placing the last glass on the counter, Jay reappears from the back. I wonder if Jerry is still on the premises. I assumed he was in the back with Jay, but maybe he wasn’t.
Suddenly, my throat feels very dry at the thought of us being alone. Harold has already settled his tab. He could stand up at any moment, wave his goodnight, and disappear out into the cold, autumn air.
“Now that everything has been cleaned up,” Jay starts. But I don’t want to hear it. I’m not ready to talk. I don’t know what I can say.
“Jay, I’m…” I close my eyes and search for honesty. I can’t tell him about all of the crazy thoughts swirling through my head, but maybe I can try to capture some of them. “I need to figure things out, and I’m perfectly capable of doing that on my own. I don’t…”
My phone rings just then, and I want to thank it for its perfect timing. This conversation is going nowhere, and I need some sort of saving grace.
I slide my phone out of my pocket and take a few steps away to indicate that I would prefer some privacy. Jay moves to the tray of glasses I’ve just rinsed and starts rinsing them again before he takes them into the back.
His movement annoys me even though I’m trying not to watch him.
I keep my voice low, barely above a whisper. It’s my mom calling, which is strange in and of itself. Though she’s had some trouble sleeping since my dad passed, I can’t imagine her calling me to chat when she knows I’m on shift.
“Mom?” I ask. I can hear some background noise like she’s driving. There’s an unfamiliar voice in the background, and all sorts of worst-case-scenario images pass through my head. Would someone kidnap my mother? It’s not like we have any money.
What is she doing out this late?
“Mom?” I shout more loudly.
I hear a groan, then an unfamiliar voice comes on the line. “This is Ernest. I’m a paramedic with Greening County EMS. Your mother is being taken to Winchester Hospital. She wanted me to call you and tell you to meet her there when you can.”
My heart starts pounding out of my chest, and I am not sure how to respond. I’m not sure I can even get my mouth open to say something. I swallow. “Can I… talk to her?”
“She’s not in a position to be doing any talking right now. I need to get back to my job now that you’ve been informed.”
Questions clog up my throat and I can’t get any of them out. Then, the paramedic hangs up without telling me anything else. What happened to my mom?
I feel like I’m six years old; lost and scared for my only surviving parent. I’m not ready to be an orphan. I’m not ready to be alone.
She’s obviously lucid enough to tell the paramedic to call me, but I feel sick. I feel like I’m going to pass out. I grab the edge of the table and force myself to be strong. I need to get to the hospital as soon as possible.
Dropping my phone into my coat pocket, I run out of The Rusty Oak and all the way to my car.