My family lived about twenty miles out, two towns over. I hoped they stayed there. I enjoyed my little palace, nestled deeper into the mountains than my hometown had been. Sure, we had less nightlife, which was one way of saying no nightlife at all, but we did have the mountains surrounding us. Like great pillars reaching to the gods around us, they were scalable peaks of wonder. I found myself drawn to them whenever I wasn’t in the diner.
I could make my life there. I could cook for people, make interesting food and be appreciated for it, and then go play in the woods whenever I wanted. Wildlife and hiking and hunting, they were all options for me literally whenever I wanted them. And best of all, my family was far enough away that it was too much for them to bother. They never left the ten-mile radius around their house unless absolutely forced to. Seeing me was not something on their requirement list.
“I just think it’s shameful, leaving her baby all day like that,” a voice said. It had the distinct old-lady warble of Mary, our oldest server. She usually stayed behind the counter and handled coffee and water refills. At the moment, she was making a new tank of sweet tea.
“What do you mean?” Amy asked.
When Mary spoke again, her voice was a bit more hushed, and I could almost feel her eyes on my back as I wiped down a table.
“She’s a single mother, that woman. I know because she lives close to me. She brings her little boy to work with her sometimes, but I can’t imagine how that works out, being around all those gruff men. But then when she doesn’t, she just drops him at her friend’s house off all day,” Mary said. “That poor boy is bound to grow up confused as to who Mommy is.”
“Mary, shut up,” Janet said. “You’re a judgy old bat.”
There was a general laughter that told me that no one was taking great offense, and I looked over my shoulder to see Mary’s jaw slightly open, a look of embarrassment and humor on her face at the same time.
“I’m just saying, is all,” she said. “Back in my day, mothers stayed home with their children.”
“Back in your day, the dinosaurs still roamed the earth,” Janet shot back.
I chuckled to myself.
“My mom worked when I was little,” Amy offered. “She and Dad both worked, but Mom got off about an hour after the bus dropped me home.”
“A latch-key kid?” Janet asked.
“Yup,” Amy said proudly.
“That explains a lot,” Mary said under her breath.
I shook my head and kept cleaning. I knew it was still frowned upon around these parts to live the kind of life the woman from the logging company lived. It was still a pretty conservative area, and people were more like Mary than they were like Janet. Still, I thought it was awesome. Someone with the guts to not only buck that kind of judgment from the people in town, but to do it by working for a logging company? That was badass.
Finishing up the section, I tossed the rag over my shoulder and headed to the back. As I did, I got a text from Roger, letting me know he was feeling better and on the way, and I grinned as I shoved the phone back in my pocket. Things were working out for me pretty well. I only wondered if I had the kind of guts the girl they called Wendy did. I hoped one day the logging crew would come in while I was there, and I could meet this mysterious, gutsy woman.
4
WENDY
I looked forward to Saturday all week. It was by far my favorite day. Even though I really loved my job, the weekdays were always a little bit hard because I didn’t like being away from my son. He was my absolute favorite thing in the world, and if I could have life my way, I would be able to spend all day with him every day.
But that wasn’t an option. It was just the two of us, and that meant I was the one responsible for making sure we had what we needed. Besides, I was driven and determined. Having a good job was more than just bringing home money to support us. It was about proving myself and showing I was worth more than people anticipated from me.
I didn’t remember a time in my life when I wasn’t aware of how people saw my mother and, by association, me. There was always judgment. People gave us looks and whispered under their breath. Sometimes, they didn’t even bother to whisper. They talked about my mother, called her names, criticized her choices, and condemned both of us. All within earshot of us, almost as if they thought they were making some sort of statement.