Page 121 of August Lane
It was nearly closing time, which meant they’d be doing clean up. August drove to the restaurant, intent on being useful. When she arrived, there were more cars out front than she’d expected. Mavis’s sparkling Land Rover was parked near the entrance.
The door was locked. August knocked and a young woman she’d never seen before walked to the door and yelled, “The kitchen is closed!”
“I work here,” August yelled back, and the woman stared blankly, unmoved.
“Let her in,” Mavis shouted. The new employee sighed and finally unlocked the door. August was stunned to see her cousin wearing brown dungarees and plastic gloves. Her hair was covered with a scarf.
“What are you doing here?” Mavis asked.
August tried to walk inside but the new girl, Anita, based on her temporary name tag, blocked her path. August tried to stare her down, but Anita stared back, unintimidated.
“I will pay you to move,” August said.
“That’s my boss,” Anita countered, gesturing over her shoulder. “She pays me once a week.”
“She’syour boss?” August met Mavis’s eyes. Her cousin sighed and told Anita it was okay to step aside.
“I knew you’d do this,” Mavis said. “I told Silas the minute they added you to the lineup that you’d run off and bury your hands in dirty dishwater like it’s a better use of your time.”
“They want me to sing a song I’ve known for years. Might as well be useful while I wait.” She looked Mavis up and down. “Why are you here?”
Mavis peeled the gloves from her hands. “Cleaning the grease catcher.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Or I was about to before you interrupted.”
“You mean before I saved you?” She pointed to Mavis’s scrub brush. “This isn’t the right equipment. You need a face mask, nose plugs, and a bag of edibles.”
Mavis sat at a table. “I’m avoiding my husband.”
August sat across from her. “Why?”
“He wants kids. I don’t.”
“Does he know about…”
Mavis nodded. “I told him. He claims it’s okay, but I don’t think it is. He was fine with it just being us before he knew, now he acts like having a baby will cleanse me of sin or something.”
“Oh God,” August whispered. “You know that’s not true.”
“Yes. But it means I’d rather clean a grease catcher than face him.” She stared at her hands. Her wedding ring was missing. “I don’t want a divorce. But I’m tired of arguing. And I think if I hadn’t given up my career that I wouldn’t feel guilty about not wanting to be a mother. It’d be easier for him to love me if I loved myself.”
August grabbed her hand. “I love you. I always have.”
Mavis squeezed her fingers. “You don’t count. It’s in your nature.” August tried to pull back, but Mavis held on. “Which is a good thing. But you never made us work for it. You give and you give, and we all take without acknowledging it.” August tried to interrupt, but Mavis spoke over her. “I should have helped with Birdie. I should have defended you to Phillip when he banned you from the choir. Telling Jessica Ryder that you had an abortion instead of me was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I have to do better by you.”
August immediately wanted to reassure Mavis that none of it was necessary. But then she thought about what the last decade of her life might have been like with someone to share such a heavy load. She might have started writing again. Maybe she would have been brave enough to call Luke and they could have reconnected sooner. Maybe there’d be an album out there with her name on it because someone offered help instead of pretending not to notice she needed it.
“You’re right,” August said. “I needed you.”
The tears in Mavis’s eyes spilled down her cheeks. She looked relieved, like being held accountable had set her free. “You have me,” she said. “Starting with me taking over this place, so you don’t have an excuse to avoid launching your career.”
“You’re not seriously working here.”
“I’m buying it. Silas agreed to sell it to me last week. I want something of my own.”
August looked her cousin up and down. “So, what you’re telling me is that you’re secretly rich.”
