Jancy would never forget what her mother said to her that day. “I loved him enough to say vows, and I won’t break them. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”
“You drove way too fast,” Nettie scolded, bringing her back to the moment. “Have you had lunch?”
The way Vicky smiled at Emily reminded Jancy of her mother. She’d had that same look on her face the night Jancy got her high school diploma.
Emily shook her head. “I hope you saved me a piece of meat loaf. I’ve been starving for your cookin’ for the past four weeks. God, I missed this place. I wish I never had to go back to school.”
Vicky kept an arm around her shoulders and led her toward the kitchen. “It’s only one more year and then you’ll have a fancy business degree. You’ll be able to get a job anywhere in the whole world.”
Emily stopped at the swinging doors and locked eyes with Jancy. “Hello. You haven’t changed a bit since you were sixteen.”
“Just six years older and fifty years wiser. You haven’t changed, either.” Jancy blew off the comment with a wave of the hand. “Y’all go visit. I’ll sweep up and man the front while we’ve got a little bit of downtime.”
“Thank you,” Emily said. “I smell meat loaf and real mashed potatoes and green beans with bacon. I’m never leaving the city limits again.” Emily led the parade through the doors. She grabbed up a platter instead of a plate and went straight for the pots on the stove.
Jancy picked up the broom and started at the north end of the diner. There was little on the floor, but she needed to keep busy. Tuesday when she’d gone to the town meeting, she’d felt like she fit in. Wednesday and Thursday she and Vicky had worked out an unspoken arrangement in the diner, and she’d even entertained notions of staying longer than two weeks. But when Emily arrived, all the old insecurities surfaced. She became again that nerdy, shy girl who wasn’t accepted in any of the high school cliques.
And I was crazy to think I’d ever be more than that. Why can’t I learn not to trust people? It was my mama’s failing. She was constantly getting hurt by people she put her faith in. I should have learned from her mistakes.
Emily brought the loaded platter out into the diner and sat down at a booth. Nettie and Vicky followed along after her like a couple of hungry little puppy dogs and slid in on the opposite side.
“Did you do well on all your finals?” Vicky asked.
“I’m still holding on to a three-point average.” She grabbed the saltshaker and shook it over her food.
“You could be a four point if you’d work harder. You have the brains,” Nettie fussed.
Jancy kept at it until she reached the middle of the room, and then she swept her small pile of trash into the kitchen. After she’d cleaned it up, she set about tidying up the workstation and washing the pans that had been piled into the sink. She didn’t want to hear their conversation, but with no one else in the diner, Emily’s voice floated right on back to her.
“Now, Nettie, start talkin’. Tell me all the gossip that I’ve missed.”
“You’ve heard about Carlton Wolfe?” Nettie asked.
“Mama told me about him. Has he been back? Do we need to make some oleander tea special for him, or maybe fix him a strawberry tart with oleander in the crust? Now that would be poetic justice, wouldn’t it? He would probably tear down our diner, and instead our diner takes him down.”
Jancy peeked out the serving window to see Emily shovel a forkful of mashed potatoes covered with gravy into her mouth, shut her eyes, and groan. “I mean it, Mama. I’m going to pitch a tent on the forty acres and get fat and sassy on diner food.”
“Hush! You are going to be a big shot executive somewhere like New York City. Or maybe London,” Vicky said.
Emily looked up in time to lock gazes with Jancy. “I wish I’d majored in culinary arts so you’d let me come home and work right here the rest of my life.”
Jancy quickly bent out of sight and duckwalked over to the workstation, where she pulled out a stool and sat down. It wasn’t that Emily had ever been mean to her, but indifference could be even more painful. Emily had always looked through Jancy, not at her. If she did speak to her, it was with a curt hello and nothing more when they passed in the hallways.
Deep in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear Emily come back through the swinging doors until she was already in the kitchen. When she realized all three women were joining her in the tiny space, she hopped off the stool and grabbed the broom.
“I’ll get that other half now that y’all are finished. We should be getting the afternoon coffee drinkers here soon,” Jancy said.
“You don’t have to leave,” Nettie said.
“No problem. I’ll get everything ready for the supper run.” Jancy managed at least half a smile.
“Don’t put on that apron,” Vicky said.
At first Jancy thought she was talking to her, but then she glanced over her shoulder to see that Vicky was shaking a finger at Emily.
“You go on to the house and get settled in. Tomorrow is soon enough for you to start working here,” Vicky said.
Well, rats! Now I know I’m leaving at the end of next week. I’d hoped that she’d have her own things to do—like keeping her toenails and fingernails all pretty and maybe washing that gorgeous thick hair twice a day. But working here? That I do not need or want.
“I’ll unload my things after work. I’m not leavin’, Mama. This diner is like vitamin pills to me. I love waitressing. I get to see everyone and talk to the people.” Emily came through the doors wearing a bright-red apron, picked up an order pad and stuck it in her pocket along with a pen, and then swept her hair up into a ponytail that she secured with a tie from the pocket of her jeans.
“What needs to be done now, Jancy?” she asked.
Was the queen talking to her? Had she held out the golden scepter and given her permission to speak?
“I just work here. Vicky is the boss,” Jancy said.
“Okay, then, Mama, do you want me in the front or in the kitchen?” Emily asked as she picked up a bar rag and dusted off the cake domes, a job that Jancy had just finished.
“You and Jancy can work the front. I’ll help Nettie in the kitchen,” Vicky answered.
Jancy bit back a groan at that idea. But she’d only have to work with Emily one more day, because payday was Saturday night in most restaurants. That meant she could hitch a ride to Palestine and catch a bus to Louisiana on Sunday morning. Now that Queen Emily was in Pick, they didn’t need her anyway.
That would be jealousy rearing its ugly head. Her mother’s voice rang loud and clear in her head. Anyone can run from a problem, but you might make friends if you stick around awhile.
But Emily doesn’t like me, she argued.
The voice in her head didn’t say another word.