by Jamie Knight
“Kelly?” I called out. “It’s early still. You want to sleep a bit more?”
Please, I asked, knowing it was futile.
“Can I come snuggle you?”
“Sure, sweetie pie.”
She came into my room and wrapped her little arms around me in bed. I was suddenly glad I hadn’t found BOB as easily as I’d hoped. I hugged her and smelled her hair, fresh from the bath she’d taken last night.
At eight years old, she was on the cusp of that stage where they still want morning snuggles. I knew that very soon she’d become a dreaded tween and would be saying, “Ewww, Mom, you’re annoying, go away,” every time I tried to hug her.
So, I welcomed any chance to do it now, even if it did interrupt other things I had had in mind to do.
“Mommy?” Kelly said in a sleepy voice, as she buried her head in my chest.
“Yeah?”
“Happy Mother’s Day.”
“Awww, thank you, honey. How did you know it was today?”
“Auntie Kate told me,” she said, using the nickname she’d called my best friend since she was very young.
Kate wasn’t really her aunt by blood, but, as my best friend who’d practically helped me raise her ever since I’d had her young and was quickly dumped by her dad, she might as well be.
“That was very nice of Auntie Kate. And very nice of you to come tell me Happy Mother’s Day,” I told her.
She smiled up at me, then yawned, her eyelids getting droopy. Maybe I could read a few pages of the book I was in the middle of, while she slept a bit more. That would be a nice Mother’s Day treat, since I rarely had time to read these days, either.
“We’re going to go to brunch when you wake up,” I informed her. “It’s at a real restaurant - not a crappy chain one like Mommy works at - and there’s a special buffet full of any kind of breakfast food you could possibly imagine.”
“Will they have Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes?” she asked, her sleepiness having turned into excitement.
“I’m not sure about that,” I said. “I was thinking more along the lines of fancy stuff. Like eggs benedict. Or poached eggs. Or salmon with eggs.”
I didn’t know why I had eggs on the brain. I guessed that was what I wanted to eat at the brunch, although normally I was more of a waffle fan.
“What about cereal?” she asked. “Will they let me have any of that?”
“Maybe,” I said, feeling uncertain, and afraid that this buffet might turn out to be a let down for her.
I had saved up for it, and Kate was pitching in, so I hoped Kelly would like it.
“The good sugary kind you never let me eat?” she pressed.
She was half sitting up now, and all hope of reading a book while she slept some more was dashed. but it was okay, because she was being her smart, cute self and I loved to be around her, even if it meant very little “me” time.
“You can eat whatever you’d like,” I reassure her.
“Lucky Charms?” she asked hopefully, bouncing on the bed a bit in excitement. “Cocoa Puffs? Cinnamon Toast Crunch? Let’s go now, Mommy, so we make sure we don’t miss out on the best cereal selection.”
“I don’t think it’s open yet,” I laughed. “And I’m not sure they’ll have cereal. I hope you like it no matter what they have, though.”
“I will, Mommy, I promise,” she said, looking up at me with her big innocent eyes. “It’s what you want to do on your special day, so I know I’ll like it.”
And that right there was why I loved spending every moment I could with her.
“Thanks so much, Love,” I told her. “I’m glad to be your mother on Mother’s Day.”
“I love you, Mommy,” she said. “But can we turn on your TV to watch Rhino Unicorns to the Rescue now?”
I laughed. Typical Kelly, bouncing back and forth between topics and desired activities like a ping pong ball.
“Sure,” I told her, realizing that maybe I could sneak in a few pages of the thriller I was in the middle of reading. I hoped I could remember what was going on last time I’d had the chance to read some of it. “And I love you too.”
I might not have Perfect Imaginary Man. I might not have a lot of time to myself. But I had Kelly, the best daughter ever - usually - and that was all I needed.
I mean, sure, I’d love a bunch of other stuff. Including a hot, rich guy who was good in bed, plus the time to explore his special talents.
But those things were just fantasies. At least in real life, I had the thing that counted most.
Chapter 2
Molly
Sammy’s Restaurant was well known in our neighborhood for being the preferred destination for working class guys to come relax with a drink. It didn’t hurt that our uniforms were one notch above what was worn at a “breastaurant,” so they got a good view, too.
It was only fitting that I was employed here as a waitress, since I had what boys in high school called “big knockers.” I could still hear their taunting in the back of my mind, along with my mother’s complaints that I should do something better with my life than get knocked up and serve food to demanding customers.
But on this crowded, hot day, I couldn’t care less because all I needed was enough money to handle my rent problems. My landlord was quite strict with me; he always felt that he could find a better tenant to live in the apartment that Kelly, Kate and I shared.
I would wish him good luck with that, but I didn’t think he deserved much good coming his way. The place was a dump and he was lucky to have a paying tenant.
I was only a hundred dollars short, but I was desperate to catch up on the difference, even though that meant working on Mother’s Day. I had enjoyed the nice brunch with Kelly and Kate - they did have a kids’ buffet that included a plethora of cereal options, thank goodness, and pancakes, although we were out of luck on Mickey Mouse shaped ones.
Kelly didn’t care though, and we’d all had a great time. It was well worth the money, but now I still needed to earn enough in tips today to make rent.
Almost everyone in this place today was male, and none of them seemed to know or care that it was Mother’s Day. They barked their orders at me or they shouted out creepy “compliments,” and, as usual, I wasn’t sure which I hated more.
I was moving back and forth between tables, taking orders and delivering food. There was nothing pleasing about the job, but it wasn’t like I had much of a choice.
When I was in school, I spent almost an entire year bouncing around from place to place with some of my friends until it became too expensive for me. My mother was livid with me because my only interest was hanging out with my friends instead of starting to look for a job.
It was my mistake, really, because I was young and dumb and free, preferring to party with my friends than to tackle real responsibility. I felt popular but looking back, it was fleeting and fickle. Things had now changed and I needed to take care of my rapidly growing daughter.
My popularity completely disappeared within my senior year as everybody else - my friends were mostly older than I was - had graduated and began to fit in to a new way of living. All my friends got jobs, got families and soon enough, I was the odd one out.
Since then, everything was a struggle for me. I gave birth when I was still quite young and before I had the opportunity to graduate from college, and Kelly’s father, to his credit, not that he deserved much, had not been expecting to have to be a dad. He gave me some platitudes but in the end, he bounced.
It wasn’t like I loved him, anyway - we had hooked up a few times and weren’t careful about birth control, again because I was young and dumb - and I felt it was better to raise Kelly on my own than have to chase him around trying to force him into something he didn’t want to be apart of.
I was determined to love her and raise her as best as I could, and I believe I had been fulfilling that plan until now, but, looking back, I didn't realize how hard it was going to be a single mother. At first, I got sup
port from my friends and family members, but now it had reached a point where the trouble was squarely on my shoulders.
Today, I was moving about in the restaurant in a short mini-skirt that matched my black, flowing hair. It was a required part of our uniforms - the supposedly “classier than Twin Peaks or Hooters but still a lot to ogle at” ones.
There was club-like music playing and the restaurant was busy. There were a bunch of guys staring at me, particularly when I passed close to their tables.
Then the inevitable happened. One guy literally smacked my ass, giving me an enthusiastic open-palm spank that left me in shock because of the guy’s rude brazenness in doing it.
I stopped dead in my tracks and I felt as though the music in the restaurant also stopped. My heart was beating very fast and I could feel the fury building up inside me.
“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded, turning around to meet a crude smile on a middle-aged man’s face.
He had a moustache on an otherwise craggy mouth and entire face. He didn’t seem at all embarrassed by what he had just done.
I was not sure if other patrons had noticed what had just happened, but I felt as though I was not going to be able to contain my anger.
“Sorry, miss,” he said, sitting there, unmoved. “I couldn’t help myself. You’re really beautiful.”
“So what?” I demanded, “That’s completely uncalled for, sir. You’re in big trouble.”
I felt the blood inside me warming up. I was so angry I actually wanted to slap the stupid smile off his ugly face. But he just sat there, unassuming.
“That’s illegal,” I said. “You can’t touch me like that. Get out of here.”
The man did not move; he just sat there and I immediately realized that my manager was walking over. Some of the other patrons had noticed the commotion and had stopped talking as my manager approached us.
“What’s going on here?” he asked me.
“Your waitress is very rude,” said the man who had just smacked me, as if my manager had asked him the question instead of me. “I did not expect this kind of poor, ungrateful service.”
I could see a frown developing on my manager’s face. I tried explaining myself but he was not having any of it.
“You must respect your customers,” said my manager, looking at me squarely in the eyes.
“He hit me in the ass,” I countered, surprised that my manager was apparently not going to take my side.
“You’re fired, Molly,” he said, pointing towards the exit. “Here at Sammy’s, we show respect to our customers. The customer is always right.”
I felt my heartbeat increasing. I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. I tried in vain to explain myself but my manager’s mind was already made up. The man who had hit me was still seated comfortably with a big smile on his face.
The commotion had now drawn everybody’s attention and I felt as though the ground would open up and swallow me whole. How could my manager take the word of some degenerate asshole stranger over me? Besides, I was the victim here.
Despite the difficulty of my job, my manager was simply not going to support me. Did he not have any respect for me? I would never turn on a customer unless there was actually a serious problem to address, and he should know that, based on my solid history of both good work performance and customer service.
I stormed off into the bathroom to take off my uniform. I was a little glad that I didn’t have to work at the restaurant anymore, but I couldn’t help feeling concerned about the rent money that I so desperately needed.
The week that was coming up was truly going to be hectic. I could only imagine the multiple problems that would be headed my way now that I didn’t have a job to support myself. Things were about to become desperately bad for me and I had no idea what I could do about it.
It wasn’t as if I had liked this stupid waitressing job, anyway, but at least it was a means to an end. I would just have to aggressively look for my next job because I had to survive and take care of Kelly.
Chapter 3
Molly
I got out of the restaurant through the front door. I contemplated making my exit round the back, but I wasn’t scared of facing my manager or the culprit that had cost me my job.
If either of them said another word to me, I planned to tell them to fuck off, together, because they deserved each other and I never wanted to see or hear from either one of them again.
All eyes were on me as I stormed out, but I immediately felt relieved that it was going to be my last day working there.
There were tears welling in my eyes and the hot sun overhead did nothing to relieve me of my troubles. It had been raining all morning but by the time we’d left brunch, the sun had come out and it had gotten hot and humid.
I wanted to head straight home and bury myself in my pillows. I needed to think hard about the course that my life was now taking.
There was a fancy sports car parked right at the front entrance, as if it owned the place, and for a minute, I thought it might belong to the idiot who had just cost me my job. I started approaching the car slowly, thinking about confronting the idiot a little more aggressively now that I was no longer employed at the restaurant.
What did I have to lose? I’d already lost the rest of my tip money, and my sense of dignity.
However, the driver’s side window rolled down slowly and there was an attractive-looking man seated there. I thought I must be hallucinating due to anger and lack of sleep - he was dark -complected, extremely handsome, and broad-shouldered.
He looked like the Imaginary Perfect Man from my dream, but clearly he couldn’t be him, because there was no such thing.
He was staring at me and he waved at me as if to tell me to keep approaching the car. I waved back, relieved that it was not the same man from the restaurant, and once I realized this, I immediately wanted to turn around to leave, hoping that I was not in any kind of trouble.
“I saw what happened there,” the man said, once I was close enough to hear him, as he gestured towards the restaurant. “I can’t believe that your own manager would treat you like that. He should look out for your best interests.”
I whole-heartedly agreed. But I stood there silently, wondering who the stranger was. It was like he read my mind, though.
“I’m Steve, by the way,” he said, extending his hand towards me.
I felt half inclined to shake it and half inclined to shove it away and be on my way. I didn’t need any more weird things happening today.
I could get back to Kelly and Kate and spend a relaxing Mother’s Day evening with them, even though I knew I would be worried about where to get the rest of the rent money.
I never should have splurged on that Mother’s Day brunch. I heard my mother’s voice in my head, telling me that it had been irresponsible.
“I was planning to have my friends over here to Sammy’s for a party,” said the man - Steve, I thought he said his name was, but I was feeling foggy-headed as the sun wore down on me. “But after what I’ve seen here, I’d rather host them at my place.”
“You saw what happened?” I asked.
I was still stuck on that part, glad that a spectator had been on my side, after all. I had felt so alone and outnumbered.
But here he was agreeing with me that the gross guy had done the wrong thing and I had done the right thing. Anyone with common sense or a normal sense of decency would have to agree, but it was like I had been working in Upside Down Land today.
Steve nodded.
“That man simply has no manners,” he said, again gesturing towards the restaurant. “I can’t believe you’ve fucking lost your job because somebody has no manners.”
“Thanks,” I said.
It was definitely very nice to have somebody supporting me over what I considered to be a flagrant violation of my rights.
“I was ready to spend two hundred dollars here,” Steve said, “but I’ve completely changed my mind now.”
<
br /> I remained quiet, looking at the man a little more closely and accepting that he was quite attractive. He really was exactly my type: black hair just as mine, a handsome face and a friendly demeanor.
“Look,” he said, “I realize that job was important for you and that you need the money.”
I nodded and shrugged, confused as to how he thought this was his problem.
“Why don’t you take this two hundred dollars?” he asked. “I’m sure you could use it. And I was just going to spend it in there at Sammy’s anyway. But I'd rather give it to you than support such an awful establishment, now that I've seen their true colors.”
I was completely flabbergasted.
Who was this stranger and why was he offering me that kind of money?
It was going to be a big relief for me, as it would cover the remaining rent and then some. But I did not want to accept money from somebody I didn’t know.
“Look,” I said, “thanks, that’s very kind of you. But I couldn’t possibly take your money.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, reaching into his pocket and removing a wad of bills, “I think that what has just happened to you is very unjust. I sincerely want you to have it. And it's no skin off my back. There’s plenty more where that came from. Go ahead, take it.”
I knew he sounded haughty and arrogant, flashing his wealth around, as well as the fact that to him, two hundred dollars - the difference between a place for my daughter and I to live or to be tossed out onto the street by my unforgiving landlord - was nothing at all.
I told myself to hate the arrogant prick who was clearly trying to get into my pants by paying me off. Did he think I was some prostitute?
But I couldn’t. My panties were too wet; they betrayed me, and my raw lust and insatiable desire for this stranger. And I really did need that damn money.
Finally, I reached for the money, speechless.