From Bully To Beloved

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TWENTY DAYS LEFT

Colton isn’t the only thing that’s been on my mind twenty-four-seven.

When I arrive at work, Marie is already there to greet me. A tall, thin woman in her late sixties, she has extremely long gray hair that she always keeps tied back in a tight braid. Her blue eyes are kind, and there’s always a cheerful smile on her face. This morning is no different.

“Hey there, superstar,” she says when I walk in. “I ran into Officer Marco the other day. He said there was some kind of incident?”

I love Marie, but she can be behind the ball on things. Not to mention extremely scatterbrained-just like me. I had told her about the incident with the jerky groping customer the day after it happened. I had a feeling she wouldn’t remember when all I got was an “Uh-huh. Yup, okay,” while she kept sifting through the papers on her desk.

“He’s referring to the event I told you about,” I remind her, and she blinks at me a couple of times. “You know, the one with Kelly? And the gross guy who I told you I put on the blacklist?”

She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, my gosh, you’re so right, sweetie! I’m sorry, I don’t know where my brain was. Yes, yes, of course you did. The creepy butt-grab, right? Okay. Did you write down his-?”

“Yes, I wrote down what he looks like and updated the blacklist on the podium.”

“Great, is Kelly-?”

“Kelly’s fine. No, she doesn’t want to press charges. The other waitresses witnessed the incident, and they also know to keep an eye out for him. Not that I think he’ll be coming back here anytime soon. Regardless, everything is handled. No need to worry.”

“Great. You’re the best,” Marie says, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’d be hopelessly lost,” I tease.

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you were going on a day trip upstate.”

“I was on my way, but then I realized that I never signed off on payroll,” she says, taking her seat at the cluttered desk. “Here, why don’t you pull up a chair and see how I do it. That way if I forget again, you can jump in and handle it.”

Lately, Marie has been taking more and more time off, which is giving me more responsibility. I know she wants me to take over from her, and it’s likely her way of testing the waters.

To be honest, I don’t know.

I love my job. I love what we do. Taking over would mean I’d have more say in my schedule, which would help a lot. But… there are too many factors to consider.

I’d only consider leaving if my art takes off and demands more of my time, many years from now. Sure, $750, 000 is a lot of money, but it won’t last me the rest of my life. If I fail as an artist and Marie finds someone else to take over the diner, I’ll be left with nothing but a college degree, several years of waitressing experience, and a dream gone haywire.

I tell myself that I’m being cautious. To a degree, I am. I don’t know how the rest of this month will go, and though I have every bit of confidence I can stick it out, and Coltoncan too, I don’t want to put the cart before the horse.

If for some reason the inheritance doesn’t go through, I won’t be completely left in the cold.

All I know is, I have a real shot at something that could change my life, if I act wisely. For me, acting wisely means planning everything in advance and building in one or two safety nets.

It’s totally not because I’m terrified of hurting Marie’s feelings.

When my mother died, Marie always made time for me, no matter how busy it was.

By now the other staff members are in and getting their tasks done as well. For the next few hours, I lose myself in the breakfast rush, welcoming the distraction. I’ve still got Coltonon the brain, and now he’s competing with Marie and how I think I might feel when she inevitably asks me to step in for her.

“You okay?” Kelly asks once the breakfast rush ends and we’re prepping for lunch. “You’ve been pretty quiet all morning. And you look tired.”

“I’m exhausted, but I’m fine,” I assure her. “The couch I’ve been sleeping on is the most uncomfortable thing in the world.”

Even with the cushions and blankets on the couch, it’s still not the most comfortable. If Coltondoesn’t wake me when he comes home, I find myself waking up at least once or twice a night, trying to get comfortable. I’m not going to complain. He’s issued several invitations to his bed (nice try, buddy), and I made him play more rounds of rock, paper, scissors, but no such luck. He tried to let me win at one point (which was kinda cute), but still no luck. It’s pathetic. The couch has my name written all over it. Coltonsuggested I at least use his bed when he isn’t there (that was also kinda sweet), but I didn’t take him up on that.

Go big or go home. I wanted to win the bed fair and square, and not by giving him any reason to say I didn’t play fair.

It’s a small price to pay for a much larger payout.

Kelly reaches out to squeeze my hand. “Honestly, I don’t know whether to keep scolding you or whether to applaud you for being strong enough to pull off this absurd scenario. I wouldn’t have the guts to do it.”

“Oh, don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re plenty strong, Kelly.”