Can’t Let You Go

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Can’t Let You Go Page 22

by Jones, Jenny B.


  “You’ve never flunked anything in your life.” I grabbed a chair and pulled it right next to her. “And that’s what really scares you. You’ve done everything so perfectly. Aced every school subject, every college class, anything you’ve ever put your mind to. But this marriage business is unchartered territory.”

  “It’s absolutely frightening. I haven’t slept in two weeks.”

  We both startled as the door shook and fists pounded the door. “Frances! Frances!”

  Her eyes widened. “It’s Joey. Don’t let him in here.”

  “Frances!” he called.

  “You’ve got to talk to him,” I said.

  “You go talk to him.”

  “Me?” I barely knew the guy.

  “Yes. Go out there and tell him. . .tell him I just can’t marry him.”

  “Frances, I don’t think—”

  She shoved me with the force of a WWE wrestler. “Tell him!”

  I made my way to the door, praying for God to send a holy rapture. I was never going to live this day down.

  I eased outside and shut the door behind me. “Hi.” I swallowed and tried to think of profound things to say. “How are you?” Oh, geez. How was he? Joey looked like he’d just watched his life ripped away from him. His face was ashen, his eyes wide and rapidly blinking, as if hoping to see a new picture.

  “I need to talk to her.” Sweat beaded at Joey’s temple. “I gotta get in there.”

  “That’s not a good idea. She, um, she sent me out here to speak to you.”

  “What did she say?”

  Oh, boy. “She said that. . .” I wanted to tell him anything but this. “She said she couldn’t marry you.”

  “Why?”

  “Frances thinks maybe you guys haven’t had enough time to know one another.”

  “So what?”

  “Well . . . maybe if you had a little more time to date.”

  “People get married quickly all the time. Her parents did and look how they turned out.”

  “True. But Frances is worried you two have some obstacles that might be hard to face together. Like money. Responsibilities.”

  “Katie, I love this woman so much.” His pain was sharp enough to pierce the both of us. “She’s my everything.”

  My guilt was boundless. “I believe you, Joey.”

  He fisted his hand and pounded on the door. “Please let me in so we can talk.”

  Silence was his only response, but Joey wasn’t giving up.

  “Frances, I know you think we don’t know each other well enough, but that’s not true. I know so much about you. I know that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. And you’re pretty on the outside, too. I know that you have a kindness that fills me up. You’re the girl who visits lonely people at the nursing home and picks up stray puppies on the side of the road. You’re the girl who never passes a street musician without dropping in change. You smile at the sun and find four-leaf clovers. And your laugh. My gosh, your laugh. When I hear that sound, I have to stop whatever I’m doing and just watch you.” Joey leaned his head against the door. “I know your heart, how strongly it beats for the people you love. How fiercely you care for your family and your friends.”

  A scraping sound came from the other side, like Frances had dragged her chair closer.

  Joey pressed his palms to the door, as if his hands could pass through the wood and reach her. “I know we’re gonna be broke. And I don’t have a handful of degrees like you. But I’m good with the cars, and I can pick up an extra job, work double shifts. We might not have cable TV and steak dinners for a while, but I promise you those years are coming. And I don’t care if I have to eat beans and rice, as long as you’re there with me. We might be poor in Massachusetts, but I’m a rich man as long as I’m with you.”

  “Any luck?” Charlie asked, joining us in the hall.

  I shook my head no.

  “Be my wife,” Joey said. He had spoken more words in the past few minutes than I’d heard from him in the entire last month. “Be my wife, and I promise no matter what we lack in material things, I’ll make up for it in fun, in memorable days, in all the ways I’m going to love you. You know me, Frances. Don’t think you don’t. I’m the guy who would slay dragons for you. The one who will be your biggest cheerleader. The one who will always be true, who lives to hold your hand. I want to hold that hand forever.”

  Joey’s volume dropped. He was now speaking to an audience of one. “I don’t know what’s ahead for us. I can’t promise you it’s going to be easy and we won’t have hard times. But I do promise to be faithful. To love you every day of my life. Let’s do this thing together, Frances. You and me. Let’s have an adventure and figure it out together. We’re all we need.”

  I pulled a tissue from my strapless bra, a little trick Maxine taught me years ago. I dabbed my eyes then blew my nose.

  A rustle came from the other side.

  A sniff.

  Then the door creaked open, and Frances took one step outside. “I love you, Joey.” Her face was splotchy, her nose Rudolph red. “I seriously love you.” She threw herself into his arms and kissed him like nobody was watching.

  And only two hundred or so were.

  Joey held her close, the color returning to his skin. “Will you marry me? I don’t care when or where. But just say you’ll be my wife.”

  “Today.” Frances laughed, a soulful chuckle that indeed turned heads. “Let’s get married today.”

  With her updo completely unraveled and her makeup in artful streaks down her cheeks, Frances walked down the aisle with her fiancé. They stood before the pastor, God, and those who loved them best, and exchanged vows. Promising to cherish each other in sickness and in health. For richer or poorer. With cats or butter and cream.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife.” Pastor Higgins closed his Bible, and his sigh of relief could be heard two blocks over. “You may now kiss your bride.”

  Family and friends jumped to their feet, cheering for the couple.

  Joey tipped his wife over his arm and kissed her but good.

  And I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.

  Today love had won.

  It beat out fear. And darkness. And doubt.

  All because two people said yes.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The diner was extra packed Monday morning. Locals wanted to get in for the blue plate special as many times as they could before Micky’s closed. Though there were more people stuffed inside, including a line that went out the door, the volume was subdued and eerily hushed. Folks carried on conversations in a tone usually reserved for funeral visitations.

  In Between was sad. The melancholy ribboned through every city street, bounced off the rooftops, and was stirred into coffee cups with the sugar and cream. No matter what side a person had been on, it was a loss. There would be no more cinnamon rolls made by Loretta’s rough hands. No free coffee at the hardware store. No more haircuts whose prices varied by how much gossip you could bring to the chair.

  Life moved on. It changed, it grew, it died, it threw out something new.

  I realized I wasn’t good with change, and since coming to live with James and Millie, security had become an obsession. My idol. Somehow I would adapt to life without the Valiant. Life without Charlie.

  Though maybe not today.

  The object of my anger and years of affection now sat with his little sister in table number twelve. My section.

  I snagged Kourtney as she walked by. “Hey, can you get that—”

  “Consider it done.” Her tresses hung extra frizzy and limp today, as if in protest of her impending job loss. Kourtney adjusted the tray she carried. “Thanks for fighting for the diner.”

  “What will you do now?” I asked as the swell of cafe chatter swirled around us.

  “I’ve been thinking about beauty college.” She shrugged. “I think I have a gift.”

  I smiled at my summer friend. “I know you do.”


  I spent the next forty-five minutes hustling it ’til I wondered if my deodorant had given up. I had a pocket-full of tips, and the heart-felt condolences of most of my patrons. But my gaze kept roaming back to table twelve. Charlie sat close to his sister, and I don’t think he moved that I didn’t catch it. He colored the menu with her, smiled at everything she said, and help her cut her steaming waffles when they arrived. And when the little girl wanted to pour the syrup herself, he didn’t say a word when she flooded her plate.

  “Shug, if you keep pouring that coffee, we’re gonna need some extra napkins.”

  “Oh!” I set the pot on the table and yanked a dry dishrag out of my back pocket. “Mrs. Dylan, I’m so sorry. Let me mop that up.”

  “It’s okay, dear.” Her veiny hand patted mine. “Why don’t you go over and talk to that Benson boy?”

  Mr. Dylan waggled his white eyebrows. “You know you want to.”

  “I’m very busy. And he looks busy. We’re both quite busy.”

  “Men do stupid things.” Mrs. Dylan lowered her voice out of the range of her husband’s wailing hearing aids. “But forgiveness is the key. You’ll find they make horrible mistakes and often make us angry. But if I broke it off with my Herman every time he acted the dolt, we wouldn’t have made it past the fifth date. Now you go talk to your fiancé.”

  “He’s not my fiancé.”

  Mr. Dylan set down his coffee mug. “There’s another stupid thing to forgive him for.”

  I cleaned up the couple’s table, brought them a complimentary hot cinnamon roll to share, then gave myself a pep talk all the way to Charlie’s table.

  I could talk to him.

  I could be civil.

  I would not try to rip out his larynx while his sister was present.

  The closer I got to table twelve, the less I felt that white hot poker of anger. It was still there, but my bone-deep sorrow seemed to have dulled the sharp point. I still hated the situation, still held Charlie somehow partially responsible, but I had no energy left to yell or spit venom. And somehow my responsibility in Frances’s wedding meltdown pressed on me until I knew I had to speak.

  God help me.

  “Hi,” I said. All around us tables of In Betweenites pretended not to stare, some better than others. And if looks were bullets, half of the Garden Club would’ve had Charlie lying in a pool of his own blood on the floor.

  “Hello.” Charlie’s eyes searched mine. It was little consolation that he looked just as tired as I felt. “I’d promised Sadie some breakfast before taking her to school.”

  “You were brave for coming in here.”

  He scanned the room, his eyes lighting on people he had known so well. “I think they hate me worse than they did Coach Gilroy after three straight losing seasons.”

  “They just need time.”

  “And you?”

  “I put away my Charlie Benson voodoo doll just this morning.” I twisted that dampened dish rang in my hands. “Charlie, I’m sorry for the wedding interruption. I know what you think, and you’re probably right. I wasn’t as supportive as I could’ve been.”

  He ran his finger around the rim of his coffee cup. “It ended well.”

  “But I didn’t want you to think I tried to sabotage the wedding.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  It was a fair accusation. “At some point I might’ve tried to talk Frances out of marrying your brother. But in the end, I could see the writing on the wall. And I backed off. I did.” Couldn’t we give me credit for that? “As soon as the wedding started, I knew Joey truly cared for Frances. I guess the seeds of doubt had been planted, and it was too late. And I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Frances and Joey or mess up their day.”

  He took his napkin and wiped his sister’s chocolate milk mustache. “Love is messy. It’s risky and scary, and sometimes it just doesn’t make sense. It asks us to take a risk.” He threw down his napkin and trained those hard eyes on me. “I’m glad Frances made the choice she did.”

  The choice I had walked away from. “No matter what it looked like Saturday night, I do want them to make it.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “And. . .I’m sorry as well.” He glanced at his sister, who was hanging onto his every word. “For everything.”

  “I wished things could be different.” All of it—the theater, our relationship.

  “I really hope you find what you want, Katie.”

  Sadie poked her brother in the shoulder. “Are you going to tell her goodbye?”

  Goodbye? “You’re leaving?”

  “Yes.” Charlie’s face showed no expression. “Sooner than expected. I have some things that need taking care of back in Chicago.”

  “I thought you were staying here, helping the community transition.” Unbelievable. The papers weren’t even signed, and Thrifty Co. was already going against their word. “That’s what your boss McKeever said at the town hall.”

  “Thrifty won’t take over the properties for at least six months. Until then, I’ve asked to be relocated.”

  To someplace where I wasn’t.

  So this was goodbye. “You take care, Charlie.”

  His hand on mine stopped my retreat. “Katie.” He swallowed and paused, as if needing a moment to rearrange his words. “I meant what I said at the Valiant.”

  That he loved me? That he wouldn’t take my love on conditions? That I needed to get my life in order?

  “Which part?” I heard myself ask.

  “All of it.”

  “Let’s go, Charlie.” Sadie tugged on his shirt sleeve. “I’m gonna be late for school.”

  “Goodbye.” My words came out hoarse, scratched. And so very final.

  Charlie’s warm hand squeezed mine.

  Then he let me go.

  Tears falling, I quickly made my escape to the bathroom, where I took a few moments to allow the fist around my heart loosen its grip.

  When I returned to the diner floor, Charlie was gone.

  *

  “You just volunteered to work a double?” Kourtney filled a cup of ice with soda an hour later and handed it to me. “You must be in a bad way.”

  I didn’t want to go home. Didn’t want to face the quiet and hear my own thoughts.

  “I’m fine. Too much fun here to leave.” I downed the cold liquid, letting the euphoric burn slide down my throat.

  Kourtney took a long pull from her tea glass. “If you think this is fun, you should get out more. I could introduce you to my cousin Sean. He just got out of the pen and is probably pretty lonely. A good woman could totally turn him around.”

  “Tempting as that offer is, I’m gonna pass this time.” I slid my drink beneath the counter.

  “He was like number one in the prison rodeo circuit.”

  I peeked into the kitchen window to check for my orders. “I just don’t think it would be fair to Sean to be my rebound guy.”

  Kourtney shrugged. “Maybe next week.”

  I grabbed three hamburger specials, two chicken-fried steaks, and a chef salad. “Loretta, look at me,” I said as my boss stepped behind the counter. “I finally did it.” The devastation of the last few days couldn’t stop the bloom of my smile as I balanced three plates on each arm.

  “That’s great.” She stuck a pen behind her ear and grabbed a bottle of ketchup. “You’re a total pro now.”

  At least I was good at something.

  “Oh, and Katie?”

  I brushed past her, my proud arms beginning to quiver. “Yes?”

  “You’re fired.”

  I laughed as I rounded the counter. “Because I asked for a raise and a company car?”

  “I’m serious.”

  I stopped so hard, I nearly dumped all six plates onto the floor. “What?”

  She took three of the plates from me, and I followed her to a table of men in matching coaching shirts. “Here you go, gentlemen,” she said.

  I stood there in a stupor, so Loretta pulled the
remaining plates from my grip and served them as well.

  I followed Loretta back to the counter. “Are you seriously firing me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Am I doing something wrong? I haven’t dropped a plate in a week.”

  “How long?”

  “This morning was a bowl. Totally different.”

  Loretta grabbed a dish towel and wiped the counter down. “Did you know that at some point, a mama eagle pushes her babies out of the nest? She shoves them right out, and they have to fly to survive the fall.”

  “And if they don’t fly?”

  “I guess they don’t buy her a Mother’s Day present. The point is, you’re using this waitressing gig as a security blanket, and I’m not going to be a part of it anymore.”

  “I’m using it as a means to make money. So you’re going to fire me, and you think you can hire someone who’ll want to take a job that will run out in a matter of months?”

  “It won’t be easy. But you need to move on. Katie, it’s time to make some decisions.”

  “But I’m not ready. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” I hated that whiny catch in my voice.

  “Now you have time to think about it.” She punched some buttons in the cash register, and with a beep, the drawer popped out. Loretta reached in and grabbed five crisp one-hundred dollar bills, money that I knew hadn’t been taken in payment today. “Here’s your severance.”

  “I’m not accepting that.”

  “You’re not getting any two weeks notice. I want you out of here today. And you will take this money. It’s going to be my first investment as a wealthy woman. I don’t care how you use it, but spend it wisely. Buy a nice interview outfit. Take some computer class. Use it to get yourself a plane ticket.” At my look of horror she rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe not a ticket. Maybe some therapy for your fear of flying.”

  “I don’t need your money.”

  She grabbed my hand and closed my fingers around the cash. “Thirty years ago, your dad answered a knock on his door in the middle of the night from a frightened woman who had just left her mean husband. I had bruises all over my face, couldn’t see out of a swollen right eye, and three scared kids were crammed into my single cab pickup. I had nowhere to go. James and Millie took me in. Got me some help and set me up in a little rental off of Sycamore. Not only did your dad pay for my legal fees to get that rabid skunk of a husband away from me, he and the police chief would do nightly drive-bys the first few months, just to make me feel safe. I’d worked at this diner for years, and when it came up for sale, I had no way of buying it because my credit was so bad. So your father co-signed, and I never missed a payment. I put my kids through college on scrambled eggs and the fluffiest pancakes this side of Dixie. I know you don’t need this money. But you’re gonna take it anyway. And I want it spent on your new direction.”

 

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