“Nope. I don’t need you as anything but a distraction. You’re perfect.” The truth was refreshing. “The stuff doesn’t hurt either,” she said as she admired the diamond tennis bracelet I gave her for Christmas.
This made me laugh, and right now, laughter felt good. I couldn’t help but think of “Caitlyn, the refuser of desirable rich men.” Why could Rachel so easily agree to this and not Caitlyn? The answer was simple, of course, but I felt daunted. Every little girl had a dream that her prince would show up on a white horse, and yet Caitlyn’d slugged both horse and prince in the face before the prince could even say, “Hello, my name is Charming.” I had to know more.
After Rachel left, I called Ma’s Diner in Connecticut and found out that Caitlyn the Prince Slayer’s name was Ashcroft. A quick Google search told me she was twenty-four, lived with an elderly relative, and had some limited success as a painter. I sat back in my desk chair and pondered my next move. Just then I got a text.
I love love love catfish. You did it!
Smiley faces filled the rest of the screen all the way down to the bottom. I couldn’t help but laugh. If he only knew.
CHAPTER THREE
Caitlyn
That was definitely the craziest thing that ever happened to me. It took a fair bit of time to recover brain function after looking at the amount of money he left. The asshole gave me a fifteen-thousand-dollar tip. What kind of insane madman does that? I didn’t care how much money you had, you don’t just give it to a complete stranger like that. I’d read stories on Facebook that were similar. There was one I remembered about a kindhearted patron who had left a woman with a bunch of kids and a great backstory a hefty amount. That guy was a hero. Their story deserved to go viral cause it made everyone fuzzy and gushy and restored their faith in humanity. But this guy… this guy nearly propositioned me, and I verbally bitch-slapped his inappropriate ass back into its place, then he gave me an ungodly amount of money. This was not Upworthy compatible.
After the delirious haze of shock had settled around me, I realized I actually had to do something, like move, or talk to all of the shocked and surprised faces surrounding me. The first person to pierce my bubble, of course, was Ma.
“Well, I can’t cash that out tonight, hope you’re not expectin’ it right away!” she growled in her usual Ma manner.
“No, of course not, Ma.”
I could tell she was irate with jealousy. I understood, I certainly would have been. I had to think fast. Even though I desperately needed the money, it wasn’t mine. I’d done nothing admirable to get it and frankly, it felt wrong to take it. Someone who clearly had more than they needed dangled a morsel in front of a person they assumed was starving, what a petty little game. While I wanted to be righteous and incensed, I had to admit that his gesture had my imagination fired up. The way his eyes looked at mine and then that crazy unspoken connection… it was hard to ignore.
I was smart enough to know I wasn’t falling for him exactly, no matter how devastatingly gorgeous he was, but I was going down hook, line and sinker for the fairy tale. The idea that someone waltzed in, swept you off of your feet, and made your life happily ever after. That idea was hard to resist. Happily ever after was a free pass forever, inspiring a lifelong motto of “no worries… always be happy.”
“What makes you happy?” he’d asked.
Seeing people filled with joy made me happy, it was still love, but a different kind. I could have given all the money to Gran, but it wouldn’t have made her happy. She never put much value on money, which was why she always just had enough. She would have made me give it back or possibly done something stupid with it like buy a collection of ugly dolls on QVC, just to prove money was momentary. I absolutely needed the money for school, but did I want to earn it this way? It wasn’t enough to change my life forever. I was going to share with Linda, but again… that was just two of us. As I looked at all those shocked and jealous faces, I realized that this money would only bring me their scorn and envy, so I did what made me happy.
“Since there were seven of us working tonight, not just me, I want to split the money. Two thousand for each of us, and then we can donate the last thousand in the restaurant’s name to the Youth Center for the Arts. Okay? That way it’s fair for everyone.”
The shocked and astonished faces slowly morphed into joyful looks of wonder. See, that was happiness.
When I got home, it was nearly three in the morning. Gran had fallen asleep to the TV. An episode of Locked Up was blaring a jarring story about a man’s meth addiction causing him to have an altercation with a prison guard. Bless Gran’s heart. She had a few pen pals in prison, people who the church referred before our scandalous disbarring. She had a massive heart, and I think she watched shows like these to dig a little deeper into humanity, trying to sieve out the infinite truth of existence, especially for those who struggled.
“I don’t know how you can sleep to that, Gran,” I whispered in her ear as I tried to rouse her.
“Hmmm,” she said in a sleep-glazed grog.
“You have to go to bed,” I told her more loudly.
“Right, right. Just making sure you got home okay.” She stood up and headed to her bedroom down the hall. “You have a good night, kiddo?” she asked as an afterthought.
“Better than most. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”
“Night, dear heart.”
I was too wired to sleep. Ironically, I understood why the star of My Fair Lady sang about wanting to dance all night. I shouldn’t have been feeling the way I did about my Professor Higgins because he was nothing more than a moneyed bully. Well, to be fair to ol’ Eliza Doolittle, her Professor Higgins wasn’t too different than mine. He was simply a rich player who liked to toy with people. Despite this fact, everyone at the diner tonight night went home with a tiny piece of happiness.