The Things We Do for Love

Angie almost laughed. "Yeah. Shes so good at that. "

Mira paused, then said, "Just be careful, okay?"

Angie knew it was good advice. "Okay. "

ANGIE STOOD IN THE SHADOWS, WATCHING THE GIRL eat her dinner. She ate slowly, as if savoring every bite. There was something almost old-fashioned about her, a round softness that brought to mind the girls of another generation. Her long copper-colored hair was a tangle of curls that fell down her back. Its color was vibrant against her pale cheeks. She had a nose that turned up just a little at the tip and was dotted with freckles. But it was her eyes--unexpectedly brown and filled with an adults knowledge--that caught Angies attention and held it.

You wont want me, those eyes said.

You have so much love to give. It must hurt to hold it in all the time.

Miras words came back to Angie. It had never occurred to her that she was stepping onto the merry-goround of her old choices.

Loss was like that, she knew. She never knew when or where it would strike. The littlest thing could set her off. A baby carriage. A doll. A bit of sad music. The Happy Birthday song. A desperate teenage girl.

But this wasnt about that. It wasnt. She was almost certain.

The girl--Lauren--looked up, glanced around, then looked at her wristwatch. She pushed the empty plate away and crossed her arms, waiting.

It was now or never.

Either Mama was going to let Angie make changes around here or she wasnt.

Time to find out the answer.

Angie went to the kitchen, where she found Mama washing up the last of the nights dishes. Four pans of fresh lasagna lined the counter.

"The Bolognese is almost ready," Mama said. "Well have plenty for tomorrow night. "

"And the rest of the month," Angie muttered.

Mama looked up. "What does that mean?"

Angie chose her words carefully. They were like missiles; each one could start a war. "We had seven customers tonight, Mama. "

"Thats good for a weeknight. "

"Not good enough. "

Mama wrenched the faucets handle hard. "It will get better when the holidays come. "

Angie tried another tack. "Im a mess at waitressing. "

"Yes. Youll get better. "

"I was still better than Rosa. I watched her the other night, Mama. Ive never seen anyone move so slowly. "

"Shes been here a long time, Angela. Show some respect. "

"We need to make some changes. Thats why Im here, isnt it?"

"You will not fire Rosa. " Mama tossed down her dishrag. It hit the counter like a gauntlet.

"I would never do that. "

Mama relaxed a tiny bit. "Good. "

"Come with me," Angie said, reaching out for Mamas hand.