The VIP Room(119)

No. They had to throw diabetes into the mix, too.

Sophie was diagnosed eighteen months ago. It was a nightmare that Emma preferred not to think about. She didn’t want to repeat even a much reduced version of it if it could be avoided.

Forgive her for caring.

She got up and went into the kitchen, searching the cabinets for something decent to make for dinner. You’d think being around food all day would make her less inclined to cook, but it actually inspired her. She liked to cook. It calmed her nerves and excited her creative side. In moments, she was lost as she sautéed onions and seasoned a thin flank steak that would make a perfect fajita stir fry.

She could actually feel the day slipping away, all the guilt and shame and exhaustion that had been riding on her shoulders going away. And the wonderful smells coaxed Sophie out of her room. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t object when Emma asked her to set the table.

As they settled down to eat, Emma found herself watching her sister. She wanted to reach over and push a clump of blond hair out of her face, but she knew Sophie wouldn’t like it. She was too old for that sort of gesture.

Their life wasn’t all that bad. They’d come a long way from where they started. Their lives were humble, but it was so much better than it had been. And it could only go up from there.

That was something to be grateful for.





Chapter 3





Emma rushed out of her biology class, already ten minutes late for work, and the diner was clear across town from the university. Just her luck, the professor decided that day, of all days, to go off on some tangent that had nothing to do with the day’s lecture. He couldn’t have done it on Monday, Emma’s day off.

The bus, of course, was also running late. She paced at the bus stop, making the poor toddler waiting with his mother nervous. By the time she got to the diner, she was nearly an hour late.

Emma rushed down the alley and grabbed the door with one hand, slinging her backpack off her shoulder so that she could easily drop it in the storage room as soon as she got inside. But the door didn’t open. She was so oblivious to the fact that she nearly smacked her head on it as her forward momentum refused to stop.

It was locked. This door was never locked.

She banged on the heavy steel, calling out to Todd. “Hey, let me in!”

But there was no response.

More worried than annoyed, she retraced her steps and walked around the side of the building. The parking lot was nearly empty, only a few cars taking up spaces that were normally filled by regular customers. Not only that, but strange men were boarding up the windows and someone had taped a sign to the front door that said: Closed Pending Remodel.

“Excuse me,” she said to the man closest to her. “What’s going on here?”

“Place is being remodeled,” he said, gesturing to the sign. “They’re turning it into a something else.”

“What?”

“I heard it was going to be a payday loan office.”

“I heard it was going to be a beauty salon,” another man said.

“What about the diner? Where’s the woman who owns it? Where’s Martha?”

The guy shrugged his shoulders. “We work for the construction company. We only know what they tell us.”

Emma stepped back, nearly falling off the curb. This diner had been there for as long as she could remember. Martha inherited it from her father who started it when he was newly home from fighting in World War II. It was something she swore she would never sell, let alone allow to be turned into some beauty salon.

What was going on?

Martha lived a few blocks away in a squat house that was nestled among other squat houses in a neighborhood that was no longer as middle class as it once was. Emma half walked, half ran the distance, her heart filling with dread. What if something happened to Martha? What if one of her kids was sick or her husband? She knew they had problems, knew they were struggling. What if the struggle had just become too much?

It never occurred to her to worry about her job.

She rounded the corner and could see immediately that Martha’s car was parked in her driveway. That seemed to be a good sign. She walked up to the front porch and knocked.

Martha opened, laughter exploding around her from somewhere in the depths of the house. Laughter even danced in Martha’s eyes until she realized who it was she had just opened the door for. Then the laughter disappeared as the color drained from Martha’s face. “I tried to call you.”

Emma stepped back slightly. “I assume everyone’s okay.”

Martha opened her mouth, then let it snap closed again. She stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door closed behind her.

“Some lady called last night, said her boss wanted to buy the diner from me.” Martha shook her head. “I’ve never gotten a call like that. I told her no, that the place wasn’t for sale. But then she dropped this number…this incredibly huge number.”

“It’s fine, Martha. I get it.”

“No, Emma, you don’t. It was more money than I could ever imagine, let alone see in my bank account. They transferred half of it into our bank account first thing this morning as an act of faith.” She rolled her eyes up to the sky, a sigh of pure bliss slipping from between her lips. “If I never see the other half, my family is set for life. We will never want again, never have to worry about debts or collection calls or having to get up at three o’clock in the morning to get to a job that barely covers the health insurance that will never be enough to cover my mom’s medications.” She focused on Emma again. “This is life changing money. I couldn’t say no.”