The Boys Down South by Abbi Glines

3

scarlet

Today was the date. The one looming over me. I filled coffee cups, smiled at the customers, pretended to laugh as the retired men from the Lions Club sat at their Saturday morning breakfast table and told me jokes when I brought things to their table, all while my head was elsewhere. For the first time since I left, my thoughts were in Malroy. It was Dixie’s wedding day. Guilt ate away at me at my absence from her happiest day. But she didn’t know how bad coming back was for me. No one did.

I had filled out the invitation RSVP last week while eating a piece of apple pie Ethel had sent home with me after work. Writing “1” by attending guests had eased some of my guilt. The next morning, I hadn’t been able to mail it because I knew I couldn’t go. I left it there to remind me why I couldn’t be there. Dixie’s phone calls still came every week. And I still ignored them.

The night she got engaged to Asher, I’d stopped talking to her. Not because I wasn’t happy for her. But because she was going to be okay. She didn’t need me anymore. She had Asher. I could leave that life behind, knowing she was okay and happy. Hearing her beg me to return was too hard. Many times, over the years, I came close to telling her. Just a little. Not all. But some. Hoping maybe she could keep me from the thoughts of how easy closing my eyes and never waking up again would be.

Dixie had never known the dirty world I’d lived inside of every day in Malroy. Every time I tried, I could never tell her. Not even a little of it. I had to learn to live with my secrets.

The calls had become painful, so I had stopped answering. After a long day working until every muscle in my body ached, I just couldn’t listen to the begging and reasons I should return. Not having Dixie by my side was just as painful for me, but I no longer had anything to say when she called. The girl talk we once shared was gone. What was I going to tell her about? The fact that Mr. Roy wore deodorant today and I didn’t have to smell his body odor when I picked up the orders from the kitchen. Or that Ethel made a new potato salad recipe she found online and all the Lions Club members caused a riot! Our lives were no longer the same. Rolling my eyes at the idea of my life, I filled the waters for the tourists at table five.

Their beach sundresses and their sunglasses perched on their heads along with the smell of sunblock gave them away. They were always easy to spot. They tipped a lot better than the Lions Club members and the locals. The old men wore me out with requests and thought leaving me two-dollar tips were generous. But they were kind. Jolly. And what I thought a grandfather would be like. The normal kind. The kind I never had. The normal I never knew.

“Scarlet!” Ethel called loudly across the diner. Ethel and her husband Jim owned the place, and if she wanted to yell out across the dining room, she could. Although her daughter, Mae Grace, always reprimanded her mother for doing so when she was here. I didn’t like Mae Grace much. She was uppity and her kids made a mess when they came in. She’d married a banker in town and the way she carried on would make one think she’d married Prince Harry.

I turned to Ethel and walked toward her before replying, “Yes, ma’am?”

She held out a spoonful of what looked like potato salad. “Try this one before I send it out to those old codgers. They’ll bitch if it ain’t to their liking.”

I did not want to taste more potato salad. I didn’t like potato salad. “It’s breakfast. They didn’t order potato salad,” I reminded her confused.

“I don’t care! They’re gonna like this one.” She had a fierce look on her face.

“Is it the kind you made before? The recipe they want?” I asked stalling.

She leaned close and whispered, “No, but it’s better. We need to upgrade the menu. If I can find a new and improved potato salad, then I’ve made a step to getting that done.”

I looked at the spoonful. I already knew looking at the nasty stuff it wasn’t going to work. There wasn’t enough mayo and I saw no pickle relish. They’d complained about the last one because she had left out the bacon and added ranch seasoning.

“Just leave it the hell alone woman! Jesus,” Jim grumbled as he walked by us.

She scowled at him. “Don’t listen to him. He knows nothing about bettering himself. Just look at him. Forty years of marriage and he’s not changed a damn thing.” It sounded harsh. To hear them talk, one would assume they had a bad marriage. But I had worked with them long enough to see the smiles they gave each other at the end of the day, and I’d seen Jim slap Ethel on the bottom and wink when passing by. They had what most didn’t. They had the normal I craved.

“Just taste it,” she urged.

I did. And it was warm. It wasn’t so bad warm. Cold potatoes I was not a fan of, but this was decent.

“Well?” she asked.

“They will complain. But I like it.”

She shot a scowl in their direction now. “Bunch of old geezers. I almost married Billy, you know? He and I were high school sweethearts. Then Jim came to town one summer to work on his grandpa’s farm and that was it. One look and I was sunk. Can’t thank my lucky stars enough because look at that grumpy old goat!” she was whispering too loud. I had also heard this story more than once.

“Go on, feed it to ‘em,” she said with a look of determination. She turned to the kitchen window. “Serve it up, Netty!” she ordered the cook, who was also Jim’s younger cousin by a couple years. Mr. Roy would come in at lunch. But Netty normally handled the breakfast crowd.

“Them bastards are gonna pitch a fit,” Netty replied but did as she was told. I agreed with Netty on this one. Jim would bitch about it the rest of the day. Telling Ethel to leave the menu alone. She’d curse him. They’d yell at each other and then at the end of the day, they’d hold hands as they walked back behind the diner to the house they’d lived in for the past thirty-five years.

I waited while Netty served up the plates and prepared myself for the drama about to unfold. When she brought them to me, she whispered, “I got a batch of the other in the fridge. When they bitch, just tell ‘em if they stay until lunch, I’ll have the other.”

I nodded, relieved, and headed toward their table. However, I only made it three steps when my eyes landed on table three. The eyes staring back at me caused me to pause. A reminder. A piece of my old life had invaded my new one. He was a reminder of all I was trying to forget. He was a reminder of his older brothers, of Malroy, of a town that never accepted me. Dallas Sutton shouldn’t be here. Today he should be at home preparing for a wedding.

He sat alone watching me. He nodded in greeting when our eyes met. I had no response. Seeing him was the last thing I expected. I had potato salad to deal with and had no time for this. I wasn’t going to the wedding. If that was why he was here, then he’d wasted his time. And possibly messed with my stability. Emotionally at least. I’d worked hard to get to this place within myself.

“Hurry up, girl, you can flirt with the good-looking customer in a moment. Lord knows I would if I was forty years younger,” Ethel said, as she nudged me toward the table of men waiting on their food.

I focused on my task and did as I was told. When Billy said loudly, “Good LORD this potato salad is warm! Are you trying to kill us, Ethel?” lt was enough to carry across the entire building, but I didn’t even cringe. My thoughts were on table five.

“It has over one thousand five stars on Pin- tur-est!” Ethel called out even louder. “Stop being so damn difficult!”

“It’s WARM! When was potato salad ever supposed to be warm! It’s a salad!” Billy replied.

“Fine! I’ll go stick it in the freezer for you!” Ethel said, stalking toward us. I stood there knowing this was only a short distraction. Soon, I’d have to face him. Soon, I would have to tell him to leave. But he’d seen me. Seen this. And he could tell them about my job. How I was living. I didn’t want that. I had gone far enough away so this wouldn’t happen. Yet he had found me. That life, that world was behind a large closed door. One I wanted locked and the key lost.

“Go get the stuff they want from Netty. I’ll deal with Ethel,” Jim said as he walked up to the table.

I didn’t look at Dallas while I completed the task. But I felt him there. Reminding me I had to face him. Deal with this, with all of it. The guilt of missing the wedding, the regret I couldn’t be strong enough for Dixie, and the reminder that Bray Sutton was no longer my safe place.