“Whatever you need, honey.” She seems relieved and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep the hope on her face.
My heels click across the floor as I go across the lobby looking for the packets we give to new account holders.
“You’re doing well with her,” Janie mentions from where she’s appeared next to me.
“She’s a nice lady. Someone should have taken the time to explain to her how things work. I have a feeling she’ll do whatever she’s shown.”
Janie opens her mouth and then closes it. “You’re probably right. Never thought of that.”
Grabbing what I need, I go back to where Mrs. Thomas sits. “Okay, let’s get started.”
Danny
Most membersof Station One hate grocery shopping. Me? I love it. It’s not my money and it gives me time to get my head on straight. All of the issues weighing me down seem to make sense as I’m going up and down the aisles of the Piggly Wiggly.
Even after six months of being with them, there are times when I don’t feel as if I’m included. Just like this morning, but that’s partly my fault too. I’ve not been the type of coworker to offer much about my personal life. Whereas a lot of them treat the bunk area like a high school locker room, I purposely hold pieces of myself back.
Being the youngest is hard.
And I’ve always been there. From the youngest in my family to the youngest at the station. No one ever seems to treat me as if I know what I’m doing and, instead of trusting myself, I look to them for the vindication that I’m doing well. When really, I should have my own confidence.
Then there’s my being from the other side of the tracks as everyone else. Without a doubt, I shouldn’t let it get to me, but I still carry scars of a childhood where my family was looked down upon.
All because of who my mother chose to love.
“Danny!”
Speak of the devil and she appears.
“Mom.” I turn at the sound of her voice. “What are you doing?”
She’s pushing a cart in front of her. Tilting her head. “Same as you. I’m surprised you’re shopping this early.”
“Slow at the house so far; wanted to get a jump on things.”
“I haven’t seen nearly enough of you lately.” Her voice is sad as she gives me puppy dog eyes.
“You always say that,” I remind her, leaning over to kiss her cheek.
“It’s true. Since you moved out, you don’t come by much,” she pouts.
I laugh, putting my arm around her neck, pulling her close. I moved out so I could have a little privacy, which I wasn’t getting at home. “You’re not happy unless you’re all up in everyone’s business. I’m just busy.”
“That’s a lie and we both know it,” she argues. “Tell me, what’s been going on with you?”
If she only knew. But I don’t want to get into it. Not here and not now. There’ll be questions I don’t know the answers to. Demands for information I don’t have, and there’s nothing I want to have to explain to her. Instead, I decide to play everything off, like my life is status quo. “Same old, same old. I’d love to stay here and chat with you, but I gotta finish this up.” I point to the meat section. “And then get back to the firehouse. I’ll try to make it over for dinner this Sunday?”
“Okay, I love you. Please try to make it to church before dinner. I like it when we’re able to pray together.”
Of course she wants church. “I’ll see what I can do. I promise. Love you too, Mama.”
Reaching over, I grab the last of the hamburger I need and then beat feet outta there. The last thing I need is to try to pretend I’m something I’m not for my mother’s sake. There are already times I feel like a huge disappointment, even though I’m doing my best to change what people think of our family. As I push the cart to one of the checkout lines, there are eyes on me.
Used to be because I was one of the only half-hispanic people in town. Now, it’s because I wear a shirt that proclaims me a member of the fire department. One way or another, they all seem to know who I am.
Maybe it’s my lot in life.
But maybe it’s also time to face this is what I want. All eyes on me, looking to me to save everyone. A hero complex.
I wasn’t able to make my mom’s family love us because of who our dad is, but I damn sure will make the town respect us.
I’ll give them no reason not to.