Page 106 of Girls Night
“So can you make it?” the voice on the phone asked, echoing in the small room.
“Yep, just need to get Mom and Jayna settled. Oh! You’ll never guess who I ran into,” Ashley chirped.
The caller laughed. “No idea, who?”
“Mia Sayne. Remember her? Freaky girl ‘Mia Insane’? She looked exactly the same.”
“No fucking way!” The caller gasped, and I could see it clear as day; Stephanie with her mouth open, her too-close-together eyes rounded in delight at hearing gossip. “I thought for sure she had killed herself by now.” She snorted. “Wow.”
“Right?” The rest was interrupted by the water running and blasting against the sink until Ashley turned it off again. “Still nuts, though. Looked like a fucking ghost, still a weirdo, didn’t even say anything when I said hello.”
Steph tsked over the line. “You did what?”
Ashley laughed. “Hey, I was curious. You know how crazy that girl was in high school.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“Remember summer camp and Adaline?”
“Right? Nuts! Oh!,” Stephanie broke in with a squeal that nearly made my ears bleed, “I forgot to mention… Tray and Mike’s coming too.”
“Seriously?”
I heard the paper towel dispenser click a few times, then I held my breath as Ashley took Stephanie off speaker and left the bathroom, leaving me with the loud silence once more.
Ignore, ignore, ignore,I said over and over to myself.
As the tears fell, I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes as hard as I could. My heart was beating so fast and the sweeping dread was getting closer and closer. I gave it a few more minutes and left the bathroom, all thoughts of Ashley and the past pressed down deep. With my head down, eyes on my boots, my legs picked up pace to the employees-only door, where I’d find Diane.
Diane had been the owner and manager of Café Mint since I was fifteen. After I left high school, she had given me a job. The job—working the front counter—hadn’t worked out for me after that first day, but working in the back as a semi-office helper had. I found the work satisfying and comfortable, plus, Diane had grown to be like a mom to me, my own mother having died when I was four.
“Hey you!” Diane got up from behind her desk as soon as I came in. She gave me a hug, running her hands over my arms as if I had just gotten in from a snowstorm. With red hair and at nearly six-feet tall, her energy was like being in the presence of Athena or some other mythological goddess.
Immediately, I felt safe.
She bent down to my height and looked into my face. “Honey, as much as I love seeing you on these rare visits, you look like your dog died. What’s wrong?”
I wanted to cry and unload all my worries at her feet but, like usual, I kept it all in, not wanting to burden anyone, let alone let anyone glimpse my crazy.
“I’m fine. Just an off day.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Bad morning. It’s good to see you.” I set my bag down on the lone chair in front of her desk and turned away from her searching eyes.
“You need to take better care of yourself, Mia. When’s the last time you spoke to your dad?”
I shrugged. “Last week.”
Diane came around her desk and sat down, folding her hands and tucking them under her chin. Her lipstick was a dark fuchsia, and for the first time today I felt my creativity peek out. Already I could see that color on one of my models.
“Well, that’s good!” she said, nodding. “Sit down, girl. Talk to me. How’s work? And when are you going to do a show and let the city see how talented you are?”
I managed to laugh. “No shows. Work’s good. Why I’m here, in fact.” I pulled out my binder and opened the zippered partition that held my checkbook and bills. “Evan came down with the flu, so I had to come in. I’m working on something that won’t get out of my head, so I need someone like yesterday.” Smiling, I thought about my latest project. Art was the only thing that wiped away the dread, and I tried every day to feed my muse as much as I could.
“Uh huh. Don’t want to unload, as usual, I see.” Diane smiled sympathetically and reached out to grasp my hand. “You call me, night or day, if you need me, okay? I worry about you, kiddo.”
“I’m okay. Promise.” I truly believed my own lies sometimes. But I did believe in Diane’s support, no doubt of it. I squeezed her hand back before pulling away. “So, here’s this. Included is what I’m looking for.” I handed her the small, red envelope, just like the ones I had been giving her for the past few years.
“Thanks, hon. The girls at the House will appreciate it.” Diane put the envelope in her desk drawer.
“How is everything over there?” A big part of the safe house project was for sex workers wanting to get out of the business, and one I helped support monthly. It was one of Diane’s many side ventures. Being a child conceived from a prostitute, I held the project close to my heart as well. The only thing I had to offer, though, was money. Luckily, the man who adopted me was the best father any child could have asked for, making up for all my mom had been unable to do for me before she died and providing everything I needed from a large trust fund when my own income needed extra.
