Page 2 of Saving Hanna
Chapter Two
HANNA
My shift was almost over and the only excitement of the day was Mr. Handsome from this morning. Nothing more was said between us, other than the “Thank You,” he had written on his ticket that accompanied the twenty-dollar tip he left, which I thought was overly generous considering his meal only cost $10.56, including tax. I felt bad thatI avoided him instead of thanking him before he left. My lack of confidence, especially in talking with people, got in the way. It seems the words always managed to remain in my head, never making it to my lips. Filling the last of the salt and pepper shakers, I headed through the steel swinging door, looking through the small glass window before entering. The last thing I wanted was to run into Byron on the other side.
Untying my once-white apron, I disposed of it in the canvas laundry hamper and headed to my locker to gather my things. Stopping short at Dotty’s office, I poked my head in and said, “See you tomorrow.”
Even though she was busy punching in numbers on her desk calculator, she gave me a quick wave goodbye. Before I could take another step, her sweet voice sounded, “Hanna, wait.”
Rocking on my heel, I leaned backward enough to see her looking up at me. Making eye contact, I answered, “Whatcha need, Dotty?”
“I justwanted to let you know thatthe gentleman that is renting the apartment above the diner is moving out at the end of next month,” she began. “It’s all yours, if you’re still interested.”
I had been waiting a long time for the apartment above the diner to come available. My current living situation was less than desirable, and with the money I needed to save, it limited me on what I could afford to rent. Dotty knew I was saving practically everything I made and offered to only charge me the cost of utilities when the apartment came available. So “being interested” was an understatement, to say the least. Clapping my hands together, I did a fist pump and said, “My things are packed. Let me know when he is out. I’ll even clean the place myself.”
“I doubt he will leave a mess when he leaves. He’s an excellent tenant and to be quitehonest, I hate to see him go.”
I didn’t know the guy, other than what Dotty told me about him. She always said she would hire him as her personal handyman if he didn’t already have a job. Everything he had done for her was beyond anything she could ever pay him for. So, instead, she reduced his rent. It was her way of letting him know she appreciated everything he did even if it was for no other reason than to help her out.
Loading my backpack with the personal items I had taken out earlier, I exited the diner using the back door and headed down the back parking lot where I had parked my car. When I got to my car, I stuck the key inside the lock and pulled the door open. My beater Toyota might not have been the newest car in the lot, but at least it was reliable. Other than a few minor repairs, I could always count on it getting me where I needed to go.
It was quickly approaching six o’clock, and the sun was beginning to set. I hated getting home in the dark since Parkhurst Drive wasn’t the best street to live on. There was an upside though. The rent was fairly cheap, and aside from the noise of the trains coming and going, the neighborhood was fairly quiet. Nobody bothered me, and as long as I didn’t say or do anything about the traffic in andout of the neighbor’s house across the street, I was just fine.
Parking my car alongside the small house I rented for $450 a month, I grabbed my backpack off the front seat and headed toward the house. I remember when I first rented this house, there wasn’t much of a lock on the door and anyone could push right in. I had begged the landlord to fix for months, but I was wasting my breath. I ultimately ended up purchasing a deadbolt lock, which cost me $150 to have installed. It was well worth the money considering where I lived. Thankfully, soon, I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone breaking in. In a month and a half, I would be in my new apartment above the diner in a much safer neighborhood.
Placing my backpack on the burnt orange couch, I headed to the 1970s kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the olive-green refrigerator. There wasn’t anything about this place I would miss. I definitely wouldn’t miss hearing the 5:00 a.m. sound of the train passing by since the conductor always felt the need to blow the horn.
Taking my water with me, I plopped down on the couch and pulled my phone from my pack. There was only one contact I had in my phone and that was the diner. Since I wouldn’t be contacting my brother, I didn’t feel the need to add his number. Until he was ready to fix the mistake, he made and get me the farm back, I had no reason to call him. Scrolling through my apps, I pushed the music icon and turned up the volume on my phone. Listening to music was the only entertainment I had. I wasn’t much for watching television, nor did I have one.
It was getting late and my eyes were getting heavy. Knowing I had an early shift in the morning, I pushed from the couch, and headed to my room. When I got there, I slid back the accordion-style door to the one and only bedroom in the house. It wasn’t much, but it was my favorite room. Every picture I owned hung on the walls, reminding me of what I had lost. Sometimes it saddened me when I looked at the pictures of Mom and Dad. I missed them so much, and if they were still alive, I knew I would still be back in Danbury.
Grabbing my favorite t-shirt, I headed to the bathroom to wash the grime from the day off my face. I wasn’t sure what the owner of this house had been thinking, but he must have gotten a special deal on accordion doors. Pushing the door tight against the frame, I held it in place as I entered the small room. Other than a sink, a toilet, and a small shower, there was barely enough room to stand. I guess the owner thought there wouldn’tbe much timespent in the bathroom. He must not have taken into consideration that a woman would rent the house.
Reaching inside the shower, I grabbed the pair of pliers I used to turn on the hot water. Having given up on the landlord replacing the knob, I had to use my own resources to get the water on. Waiting until the water got hot, I gazed in the mirror to see a reflection of myself which looked tired and unhappy. I had no reason to be happy other than knowing I would be moving out of this place soon. Lifting my chin, I scanned my facial features and noticed that I was looking a lot older than my twenty-five years. Saddened, it reminded me justhow lonely my life was. Other than having contact with the people from the diner, I didn’t have a social life. I can’t even remember the last time I went out and had fun. Upset,I shook my finger at my reflection and said, “Don’t you dare start feeling sorry for yourself, Hanna.” It was the one thing I promised myself I would never do.
I could have argued with the person looking back at me, but in the end,my alter ego would win out.Turning away from the mirror, I removed my clothes, avoiding any more bad thoughts. Living on Ramen noodles and bread was taking a toll on my body and, other than being more toned, my once chubby body was on the edge of making melook anorexic. At least Dotty offered all of her employees a free meal during their shift.
Pulling back the thin shower curtain, I entered the shower, hoping that the water would stay warm enough for me to enjoy it. Maybe this time I would be able to rinse the conditioner from my hair without freezing to death. The water was just the right temperature. The minute it hit my body it took me to a different place where the only thing I wanted to think about was the warmth of the water hitting my body. Closing my eyes, I tilted my head back only to be greeted by the large crack in the ceiling that the landlord must have tried to fix more than once. He would have been better off replacing the ceiling instead of painting to cover the large amount of caulk he must have used.
My tranquil moment ended as I felt the water get colder. Rushing through conditioning my hair and forgoing the set time of two minutes, I quickly rinsed it off. It was a good thing I founda conditioner I could leave in, extra cheap, to give my hair the added conditioning it needed. I wasblessed with most of my mom’s features, but having tame hair wasn’t one of them.
Feeling ten times better than I did when I got home, my stomach protested since I hadn’t taken advantage of my free meal at the diner. I had been so busy that when my lunch break rolled around, I could only grab a few packaged crackers so I could take care of the lunch crowd. It was always like that when Dotty ran her meatloaf special. I didn’t know what she put in it, but it was the best I had ever tasted. I only wished I had brought somehome to eat instead of my only dinner choice of Ramen noodles or Spaghetti-O’s, which I had been saving for a special occasion. I guess moving out of this place could be considered a special occasion even though it was still more than a month away. Hopefully, one day I could afford real food. What I wouldn’t do for a nice steak!
