The Strawberry Hearts Diner(43)
“She’s hung up on that old movie Lucky Seven.”
“I am not,” Vicky said.
“Yes, she is,” Emily said. “She thinks I need to see the world and have lots of boyfriends before I settle down. In the movie, the mama is dying and she tells the daughter that at certain times in her life she will meet a man—like number three will be her first sexual experience in college. But it will be the seventh man who will be her soul mate and the one she will marry.”
“I know. I checked that movie out at the library and watched it about six times before I had to take it back,” Jancy said. “Why do you want Emily to wait until number seven? Is it because you only had that first real love in your life and then you had a baby to take care of?”
“Pretty much,” Vicky said. “I want her to experience lots of life before she settles down.”
“Sometimes life isn’t a substitute for love,” Jancy whispered as she sipped the wine.
Vicky’s head bobbed a couple of times. “And sometimes love ain’t a substitute for life.”
Those words stuck in Jancy’s mind as she made her way to her bedroom, opened the drawer, and took out the second letter from the bottom. She turned on the bedside lamp and propped a pillow against the tall headboard.
“I need to hear your voice, Mama. Even if it’s through words on paper that don’t say a thing about relationships. Shane kissed me and I felt something new and strange. Is that what you felt with Daddy even though you knew he was probably the wrong boy for you?”
She unfolded the letter and read slowly.
Happy birthday, Jancy! I hope that you are having cake and ice cream. Take this ten dollars and buy a fancy cupcake and a pint of rocky road ice cream. Today I’m sitting here in the trailer with the smell of a chocolate cake filling the whole place. It’s your eighteenth-birthday cake. We’ll move again as soon as you graduate. Your father is getting antsy, but he’s promised me that we’ll stay right here so you can finish your education. I’ve got a feeling if we move this close to the end of the year, you’ll never finish, and I so want to see you walk across that stage and get your diploma.
Tonight we’ll have cake and ice cream and I’ve made a little throw for you from scraps that I bought from a remnant bin. It reminds me of the tiny baby clothing that I stitched for you before you were born. You came home in a pretty smocked outfit and you were wrapped in a pink quilt. Each square had a special bit of embroidery. You completely wore that quilt out. I hope you do the same with this throw and that you think of me every time that you use it.
Enough sadness. I’m gone and it’s your birthday. Wherever you are, be happy. Eat cake and ice cream and remember all the good times we’ve had.
Her mother was right. Just remembering that chocolate cake and ice cream on her eighteenth birthday made her happy. She tucked the letter back into the envelope and into the drawer beside the throw that was one of her prized possessions. She ran her fingers over the stitches. She used the throw when she was so homesick for her mother that sadness filled her whole being, and it never failed to bring her comfort and happiness. “But Mama, what do I do? You gave me love and memories, but I need your advice.”
Be happy, her mother’s voice whispered in her head.
Jancy picked up the picture and looked into her mother’s eyes. “I’m not sure I know how, Mama. Can you send someone to guide me?”
I already did, the soft voice said.
CHAPTER NINE
The diner was quiet that Tuesday afternoon. The lunch rush hadn’t been too bad with Vicky taking care of the kitchen and Jancy and Emily dividing the dining room duties. Vicky had just refilled her glass with ice and water with a slice of lemon and was on her way to a booth when the phone rang. She grabbed it, listened for a minute.
Her heart felt like a stone in her chest, and she thought she’d throw up. The room did half a dozen spins before the walls stopped moving. Her glass hit the floor.
“Mama?” Emily asked.
“It’s Nettie. She’s had a heart attack. She dropped in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. They’ve admitted her.” In her own ears, Vicky’s voice sounded to her like it was coming from the depths of a deep barrel.
“Go. Both of you go. I’ll manage the place by myself. I worked in fast food. I can make burger baskets,” Jancy said.
“Hey, ladies.” The bell above the door chimed, and there was Andy. “It’s a hot one out there. Thought I’d stop by for a tart . . .” He stopped with a puzzled look on his face. “Is something wrong, Vicky? You look like you just saw a ghost.”