God was finally punishing her for the past. Her car burning right there in Pick, Texas—that was too much to be coincidence. It was karma in the purest form coming back around to bite her on the fanny the very week after she was allowed to leave the state of Texas. Two days ago, she’d finally spent her last day in Amarillo and couldn’t wait to get on the road to Louisiana to Minnette’s place. Now all her plans were going up in smoke in front of her eyes.
When she heard the sirens, she plopped down on her old green duffel bag. With her head in her hands, she wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. Never, not once, in all her wandering had she been so destitute. She had sixteen dollars in her purse, half a pack of gum, and a Texas driver’s license that was only good for eight more months. Good luck renewing it without a place to live.
Of all the places in the state of Texas—for that matter, the whole world—Pick, Texas, was the last place she’d want to be stranded with nothing. Hopefully, truckers still stopped at the diner for those blue-plate specials. Maybe she could hitch a ride with one of them.
The red fire truck rolled into the lot, and two volunteer firemen hopped out, unwound the hose, and started spraying water on the vehicle.
“How much gas you got?” one of them yelled.
“Full tank!” She looked up and hollered. That’s when she saw Nettie and Vicky start toward her. Vicky knelt beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Can I help you or call someone for you?”
Jancy shook her head slowly. “Nobody to call, and I don’t think anyone can help me. Y’all still get truckers coming through every day? I’ll hitch a ride with one of them.”
“Jancy Wilson?” Nettie frowned.
“That’s me, Miz Nettie.” She nodded.
“We haven’t seen you around here in, what? Five years?” Nettie asked.
“Six,” she answered and pointed toward the diner. “Are y’all really hiring? Where’s Emily?”
“Finishing up her last week of the year in college,” Nettie answered. “She’ll be home on Friday. And yes, we are hiring. You want to apply for the job?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jancy swallowed hard and nodded. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d lived in Pick—an eternity since she’d been that young, naive girl who’d wanted so badly to fit in and never did.
That Emily got to go to college didn’t surprise her. She’d been the most popular girl in school—a cheerleader, smart enough to win all kinds of awards, pretty and actually kind of sweet even if her group of friends could be downright bitchy. And Jancy would be long gone by Friday. She just needed enough money for a bus ticket to New Iberia. Minnette would drive down and get her from there. With good tips and minimum wage, she should have that much in a few days.
“Got any waitress experience?” Nettie asked.
“Started working in fast food when I was sixteen. Moved up to the better places when I graduated high school. It’s all I’ve ever done.”
“Can you start right now?” Vicky asked.
Jancy nodded again. “Got a place I can store my stuff? And would you mind if I throw a pillow in a booth and sleep in the diner a few nights—just until Emily gets here and takes my place?”
“Come on inside where it’s cool. We can talk over a cup of coffee,” Vicky answered.
“My stuff?” Jancy looked around her as she stood up.
“It’s okay right where it is for now.” Vicky extended a hand. “Where have you been the past six years?”
“Louisiana and Texas, mainly. A few months in Oklahoma. These last few months, I worked as a waitress at a steak house in Amarillo.” She put her hand in Vicky’s and let her haul her to a standing position.
“You’re Emily’s age, aren’t you? I remember when y’all moved back here and were in school together for a year or two. How is Elaine these days?” Vicky dropped her hand and led the way to the diner.
“She and my father are both dead. Mama passed right after I graduated from high school, and Daddy died a couple of years later.” Jancy opened the door to allow Vicky and Nettie to go inside before her.
Nettie headed straight back to the kitchen. “I’m sorry to hear about her passing. Sounds like you picked up some of that deep southern accent, girl.”
“Been a long time since anyone called me a girl.” Jancy managed a weak smile.
“Honey, I’m seventy years old. That makes you a kid in my eyes. I was your grandma’s friend, and even if you hadn’t worked as a waitress, I’d be willin’ to train you to get some help in this place,” Nettie said.