Authors: Bonnie Wheeler
Marge realized most women were ignorant as to what men found attractive. Guys didn’t like butch haircuts and baggy clothing on women. They liked seeing a woman’s curves. She also knew to wear her hair long and loose down her back. Marge always told Katie these truths so that her daughter could have the best chances in life. Neither of them could go anywhere without men gawking at them. A fact that she had thought Williston liked.
Marge spit her gum on the ground.
Thoughts of Angela interfering last night aggravated her temper. She wasn’t sure how long the two had been together, but since Rachel was the same age as
Katie,
their anniversary must be in the teens. How Brian could have picked a woman who was so obviously wrong for him was beyond Marge’s range of understanding. He had either married her because her family was wealthy or he thought he saw something in Angela that just wasn’t there.
It must have been the money.
Marge heard that Angela’s family was rich. Her Long Island accent was subtle, but still there. She wasn’t sure if Brian had access to the old money, but she wasn’t concerned. His house was beautiful and his SUV was the nicest in town. The preacher’s lifestyle was a far cry from the trailer park dump she had grown up in. Her father worked as a mechanic doing oil changes at the Jiffy Lube while her mother wiped ass at the old folk’s home in Claremont. Marge knew she was destined for a better life. It only made sense that a man of God would be the one to give it to her.
Riffling in her purse, Marge fished past a pile of store receipts and wads of tissues until she found her cell. Propping herself against the door, she rang Brian’s phone again.
“Hello,” her voice was airy. “So, you’ve managed to answer your phone.”
“What’s up?” Brian responded. His voice was flat and missing the huskiness she was accustomed to.
“I’m at the back door. I’ve been knocking.” Her eyes searched the windows, scanning for any sign of him. One of the curtains rustled. He had been looking at her. Not liking the distance between them, she wiggled the door knob.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m really busy right now.”
Angela has gotten to him
.
Licking her lips, she tried to think quickly.
“I can give you a reason to forget about working. I know you are alone in there.”
“Not today, Marge.”
Her face flushed. He was dismissing her.
“Well, how about you pop your head out for just a minute and at least give me a kiss goodbye. I got all dolled up, just for you.” Digging her nails into the phone as she spoke, she knew his wife was making him do this. This wasn’t her Brian. He would have taken her inside already and the two would be making love.
If Angela wants a fight, I’ll give her a fight.
The phone was silent. Marge felt a thrill surge through her. Right about now her lover would be getting excited and ready to take her. She stared at the door, waiting for it to open.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t talk right now,” he uttered.
Marge opened her mouth, but before she could speak, a click resonated in her ear.
The call ended.
25
KATIE
Friday 10:15 AM
Katie splashed her face with cool water. With puffy eyes and a pounding head, she doubted the heavy application of
cosmetics would hide how crappy she felt. With a practiced hand, she smoothed on a bit of cover-up before defining her eyelashes with indigo liner and her cheeks with a bit of blush.
Almost passable…
The choice to show up late for class was an instant “no.” A quick glance at the time revealed it was just after third period. Imagining the look of annoyance that visited Mrs. Spark’s face each time she disrupted the English teacher’s class was one reason for not going. The second was seeing Davey. After last night, facing the boy was cause enough to stay home.
After a quick brushing of her hair, Katie paired her skinny jeans with her favorite 30 Seconds to Mars Echelon t-shirt, followed by knee length boots. Feeling a little more human now that she was dressed, she wandered into the kitchen with a growling stomach, hoping to find something to eat.
The room was overwhelmed by a large round table with two mismatched chairs. More of an alcove, she didn’t believe the space was meant to be dined in. The appliances were old, but they worked. To help her mother out, Katie took it upon herself to be in charge of mopping the floor and doing the dishes. Unless Pastor Jones was going to be over at dinner time, Marge didn’t cook much anymore. Katie often ate alone.
Opening the refrigerator, the contents were sparse. Despite the carton of Marlboros and a couple of Heinekens, the only food was leftover frozen pizza and a package of hot dog rolls. The door was littered with condiments. Nothing looked appealing. Frustrated with the lack of necessities, Katie slammed it shut, rattling the half empty jars in unison.
Checking the table, she spotted a note and a twenty dollar bill. In Marge’s bubbly script, was a reminder for Katie to pick up some groceries and a box of
tampons.
Crumpling the request, she tossed it in the trash.
Her mother’s idea of groceries usually meant boxed of mac and cheese and cereal bars. For once, Katie would like to have a meal that included fresh vegetables and a salad. A meal that required both washing and prepping, not just slop from a can or cardboard that was supposed to be edible. But twenty dollars didn’t stretch far; it was all that was left after her mother bought a weeks’ worth of cigarettes and the wine she would need for date night.
Stuffing the bill in her pocket, Katie grabbed her sunglasses and leather coat. Already planning to break the twenty by getting a hot coffee, she locked her apartment door and headed down the main stairwell. As she stepped outside, the chilled air whipped tendrils of her hair across her face. Strands stuck to her lip gloss.
With the wind at her back, Katie set off to Lucinda’s Diner. By the time she stepped through the diner’s door, the ten minute walk left her fingers numb from the cold. They didn’t want to move as she ran them through her windblown hair, another casualty of the October weather. As she took her favorite spot at the end of the counter, her eyes perused over the special’s board. Pumpkin pancakes, homemade apple cider donuts, and praline maple French toast were listed for the day. The holiday themed treats all looked amazing.
With a smile, Daisy, the morning waitress, waved a hello. Katie grinned. She loved the redhead’s costume. With cat ears and painted on whiskers – she looked like she was having fun. It suited her.
Katie swallowed back the saliva all of the good smells provoked. As hungry as she was, she couldn’t spend more than a buck or two for her coffee. On the walk over, she made a mental list of some groceries that would stretch another week until her mom got paid. Eggs were cheap and there were a few ways she could cook them so they would taste different. Pasta was another staple. She had learned tossing it with olive oil, garlic and grated parmesan made a suitable meal.
It beats
Spaghettios
.
Glancing around, a few of the diner’s patrons were wearing costumes. A plump woman with an equally round toddler sat in the booth just across the aisle. The mother was supposed to be a witch and the child was a lady bug. Katie questioned if she should even bother doing Halloween. Her mother had no intentions of helping her put together a costume and she was tired of using her cheerleader uniform as a costume year after year.
Daisy rushed behind the counter. With ease, the waitress balanced a pot of coffee in one hand and a solid white mug and teaspoon in the next. Placing them before her, Daisy knew Katie’s regular.
“Didn’t go to school again today,” Daisy observed. Reaching into her apron, she popped down three creamers. “Decided to take the rest of the week off, huh?”
“I’m sick of school.” Katie reached for the sugar jar. Pouring in a heaping mound full, she stirred the brew until the sugar dissolved.
“You’re a senior. You don’t have much longer. By the time you’re my age, it will feel like school flew by.”
Katie smirked.
She always acts like she’s ancient. She can’t be much older than I am.
“I know. My mother tells me that all the time.”
Daisy fussed with her headband. The ears had slid sideways.
“How is your mom these days?”
Rolling her eyes, Katie knew the question didn’t warrant a reply. Small towns liked to talk, especially in diners. From what she had gathered, Marge Finch was a fun topic.
Wiping the counter down with a rag, Daisy kept moving.
“Is she still seeing the preacher?”
“Unfortunately,” Katie said, in between sips. “I think she’s wasting her time.”
“He’s a pervert, that one. Hopefully she’ll wake up.”
Katie recalled her mother’s strange mood last night. After Davey left, she peeked in to see if Marge needed to talk about what happened with Brian. But, her mother was sleeping soundlessly like a child dreaming of sugar plums and Santa.
She’s hooked on that creep.
“I hope so, but I doubt it. Do you think everyone knows about them two?”
“I’ve only heard it from you, but it won’t be long,” Daisy replied with a shake of her head.
Katie’s coffee was delicious. The combination of sweet and bitter flavors warmed her, leaving a pleasurable aftertaste. As she nursed the mug, taking long, slow sips, Daisy studied her with an inquisitive expression.
“Do you want to order something to eat? Everyone’s ordering the pancakes, but my favorite is the apple cider donuts. Loo is frying them on the grill in butter and then rolls them in sugar. They melt in your mouth.”
“No,” Katie said, licking her lips. “I can’t afford treating myself today.”
“Well, you look hungry.” Turning from her, Daisy bent down behind the counter, and popped up with a sandwich covered in cling wrap. “I’ve been trying to stick to my Weight Watchers by bringing in my own lunch. If you eat this for me, I’ll have an excuse to get some of those fried donuts later.”
Raising one eyebrow, Katie wasn’t sure how to respond. Other than eating at Darla’s, no one had ever given her a free meal before. The sandwich was huge and even through the plastic wrap, Katie could see it held lettuce and tomatoes – maybe even a bit of turkey. It looked absolutely amazing.
“You don’t need to diet. You’re beautiful.”
Daisy smiled. With a tilt of her head, the warm highlights in her hair shone under the restaurant’s florescent lighting. “You are too, Katie.”
Hustling past her, and out onto the floor, Katie watched as Daisy took each customer’s order. The waitress worked hard and deserved a better job than serving burgers at a small town diner.
That’s all I’ll be able to do unless I start going to school.
Watching Daisy work the floor, an idea for Halloween night came to mind. Taking a small bite of the sandwich, she chewed slowly while thinking up her plan. October 31
st
was meant for tricks and treats and the opportunity to escape into someone else’s life. Katie couldn’t wait to dress the part.