The Lights of Tenth Street (3 page)

He started the engine and feathered the clutch just so. As the old pickup got underway, he continued their conversation as if they had never stopped.

“You know, my daughter-in-law—Angela Dugan—is a guidance counselor at your school.”

“I’ve seen her a couple times.”

“Why don’t you go talk to her tomorrow? Maybe she’ll have some ideas for you. I know she’ll appreciate your desire to go to college. She went to college, you know. The only one of us to go.”

“Really? Where?”

“Georgia State.”

Ronnie’s eyes widened. “Georgia State! That’s where—I mean, I had been thinking about Georgia State, too. But if I don’t have a scholarship, I’ll have to put myself through school.”

“Atlanta isn’t cheap, you know.”

Ronnie looked down at her hands. “Yeah, I know.”

A few minutes later, the pickup pulled up a narrow side road and stopped. Ronnie gave Mr. Dugan a quick hug and hopped out by a row of mailboxes down the road from her house, glad that excuse had come to mind.

She waved as the truck drove away, collected a short stack of mail, and headed down the road for home.

“Well, I don’t
care
what you think!” Ronnie’s eyes snapped across the kitchen. “I can finish high school by GED and start at Georgia State in the fall if I work enough.”

Her mother shook her head, grinding a cigarette into an ashtray on the counter. “You can get a job here and start college next year if you’re still so wild about it. It’s not like you’ve got anything special to offer an employer. So there’s no need to go so far for work.”

Ronnie made an exasperated noise. “Give me a break. You know how hard it
is to find a good job these days! And I’m a hard worker, but there’s certainly no work in this town that would pay enough for me to
live
on, much less save for college.”

“You can live here.”

“No, I can’t. And you know that.” She tried to hold her mother’s gaze, but the tired eyes flickered down and away. The kitchen was silent a moment.

Her mother reached for the half-crinkled pack lying on the counter beside her, and turned slightly to light another smoke.

Ronnie opened the refrigerator door, looking for something to eat. “At least the beer is still here from this morning,” she muttered. “That’s something.”

“Seth bought a new six-pack before you got home.”

Ronnie pulled a lone apple from the crisper drawer, then set about searching the cupboards for the box of macaroni and cheese she knew was there somewhere. She made and ate her dinner silently, sitting at the kitchen table and staring out at the lawn. Her mother retreated into the living room to watch television, leaving Ronnie alone.

Could she do it? Did she have the guts? Would her friends miss her? She looked down at her plate, her stomach sinking. Did she have any choice?

The sound of a souped-up engine broke her spell, and she moved quickly over to the sink, rinsing her plate and putting it in the dishwasher. She heard the screen door slam shut, and Seth’s heavy steps into the kitchen.

“I thought I told you to clean the kitchen this morning.”

She kept her back to him, rinsing a few of the dishes stacked in the sink. “You did. But I had school, and then the cheerleading tryouts. I just got back.”

He walked over and gripped her arm, swinging her unsteadily around. “Don’t you get lippy with me, young lady.”

She yanked her arm out of his grasp and glared at him, her breath catching in her chest. “You’ve been drinking, Seth. Why don’t you just go sleep it off?”

“Why you—” He slapped her across the cheek. “Why don’t you just sleep
that
off?”

Ronnie stepped back, her face stinging, then pushed past him and headed down the hall. Her mother never looked up from the television.

She swept into her room, closed the door and locked it, then turned and kicked it with her foot, hard. She flopped down beside the bed and pressed a hand to her cheek, trying not to cry. Just another day in the Hanover family. If you could call this a family.

She pictured her coach addressing the rejected cheerleaders, and a wave of despair swept over her. Was she
ever
going to be anybody? Maybe she was just
fooling herself. Maybe she should just accept the fact that there was nothing special about her.

She scooted over to her nightstand, opened the bottom drawer, and lifted out a weathered shoebox. She leaned back against the bed and opened the lid. A white teddy bear, well-loved and worn in patches, stared up at her.

Ronnie smiled and pulled him out. Teddy had a lot of secrets on him, a lot of comforted tears. She set him aside and felt in the box for the folded paper she knew was there.

It was yellowed with age, soft and brown and worn from many creases, many foldings and unfoldings. Ronnie carefully spread the page on her lap, pondering the familiar words, surrounded by little drawings and stickers; perfect for a second-grade child.

A chime from the computer made Ronnie turn, and she carefully refolded the page and stowed it in its hiding place. She checked her e-mail and smiled. Now here was another person who had believed in her … even if some of her crazy plots were a little unorthodox. Including the one she was pushing at the moment. Ronnie clicked on Tiffany’s e-mail.

Ronnie laughed when she reached the end of her friend’s message. Well, why not.

She stood up from the computer and started rummaging in her closet for a duffel bag. Tiffany was right. She thought too much, worried too much, planned too much. There was nothing for her here. Not one of her girlfriends really knew her. And her former boyfriend was pretending she wasn’t even there. She finished loading up her duffel bag, stowed it out of sight, and got ready for another night at her busy, dead-end job.

There was no more reason to stay, and—she shuddered slightly at the thought of Seth’s probing eyes—every reason to go.

“Here you are.” Ronnie slid the round serving tray onto the table. “It’s hot, so watch it.”

The foursome at the table reached for the slices of pizza. One woman looked up. “Oh, can you refill my soda?”

“Sure thing.” Ronnie put on a cheerful face. “Anyone else?”

The others shook their heads, their mouths full of pizza.

As she turned away, a customer at another table caught her eye, motioning at his watch. She hurried over.

“Sir?”

“Remember, I need to be out of here by seven-thirty.”

“Of course, sir. They’re moving as fast as they can in the kitchen.”

“I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes already.”

“Yes, sir, I know, but it
is
a large order.”

A man at the next table motioned at her, and she held up a finger, indicating she’d be right there. The first man was still talking.

“Well, just see what you can do.”

“I will, sir.”

“And refill my Coke?”

“Certainly, sir.”

She grabbed his glass and stopped by the next table. The customer jabbed his finger toward the pizza in the center of the table.

“This is sausage, and we asked for pepperoni.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Ronnie reached to grab the tray. “It’ll take them just a few minutes to get a new pizza out.”

The customer looked annoyed. “I wish you’d checked before you brought it out.”

“I should have, sir, but we are very busy tonight. I really apologize.”

“We’re short on time, and this is going to cost us. I need to talk to the manager.”

“I’ll get him right away.”

The man nodded and turned back to his family’s conversation. Ronnie hustled toward the kitchen, the faulty pizza in one hand and the two empty glasses in the other. A minute later, she had fresh glasses on the first two tables, and had stopped by the third to reassure them that their pepperoni pizza and the manager would be out shortly.

The front door chimed, and she headed that direction. Too few waitresses tonight, and the customers kept arriving. At least she’d make some good tip money if she didn’t make too many mistakes in her rush.

She saw two grade-school-age kids and slowed. “Are you eating here or takeout?”

A young girl looked up at her. “Here. Mom’s right behind us.”

Ronnie grabbed three menus and looked up as the door chimed again. Her face lit up with astonishment.

“Susan!”

“Ronnie.” A woman in her thirties came toward her, arms outstretched for a hug. “So good to see you.”

“These are your kids?”

“Yes, they are.” Susan introduced them, then gave Ronnie an intent stare. “I didn’t know you were waitressing. You look terrific. How’s your back?”

“Wonderful, thanks to you! I was just telling someone about you today.” Ronnie heard a patron calling to her from a nearby table. “Let’s get you seated, and you can look at the menu for a few minutes, okay?”

“Great. Maybe we can catch up if you have time.”

Ronnie laughed as she headed toward the beckoning table. “Time is a bit hard to come by, but I’ll find a way.”

For the next hour, Ronnie sped around the restaurant, taking and filling orders, smiling at the customers, refilling glasses, making change, and stashing her tips safely in her apron. The irritated family man left her almost nothing, but everyone else seemed to think she’d done a good job. In the midst of the rush, she brought Susan and her kids their calzones and drinks, but had time for nothing but passing pleasantries.

Later, as Ronnie cleared Susan’s table, Susan said, “Well, you certainly seem to be doing well. Is it always this busy?”

Ronnie nodded. “It’s finally slowing down, thank goodness. Long day.”

“So, how long has it been, Ronnie?”

“I think my final appointment with you was over a year ago.”

“That long?” Susan shook her head. “Time flies. So you graduate from high school in …?”

“In June. I’m a senior now.”

“Any thought about what you want to do afterwards?”

Ronnie set her tray down on the table and crouched down a bit, lowering her voice. “Actually, I’ve decided I want to become a physical therapist.”

“That’s great!” Susan exclaimed. She winced and looked around. “I guess you don’t want your employer to know.”

“No. The owner thinks I’m going to be here forever. I’m going to have to have a difficult conversation with him pretty soon.”

She wiped an imaginary spot off the table, nervous at the thought of
how
soon.

“Have you decided where you want to go?”

Ronnie grinned. “Where do you think?”

Susan returned the smile. “You’ll love Georgia State, I promise.”

“I know. You convinced me. After all your two-hour brainwashing sessions—disguised as physical therapy—what choice did I have?”

“Well, it’s not just a matter of opinion, you know. They have the best program. And since you’ll get the in-state tuition …” She shrugged.

“It’s a no-brainer, I know. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have a direction.” Ronnie swiped the table for the fifth time, then caught the owner/manager beckoning to her. She sighed. “I have to go. I didn’t even get to hear how you’re doing.”

“No biggie. The kids have a pizza party here next Saturday, so I’ll see you then.”

No, you won’t
. Ronnie tried to smile. “It was good to see you.”

“You, too. If you ever have any questions, give me a call, okay?”

Ronnie nodded as the little family waved and left. She headed back to the restaurant’s cluttered office, where she found the owner sitting at his desk, making up the work schedules for December. He glanced up as she appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, Ronnie. Listen, we’ve got a couple big holiday parties in the next few weeks, which of course I want you to do, so I moved your shift from—” He broke off as he saw her expression. “What’s wrong?”