The Strawberry Hearts Diner(2)

Jancy Wilson sat down in front of her grandmother’s grave in the Pick cemetery and pulled the dandelions away from the tombstone. She would have brought flowers, but she couldn’t afford them, and besides, Granny had always said that she wanted her flowers while she was living, not after she was dead.

“Mama is gone,” she said softly. “I suppose you know that by now, since it’s been four years since she died. Money has been too tight to visit, Granny. I’m sorry. I understand now how she must have missed you when you died. I can’t stay long. I’m hoping to get to Louisiana by night so I can sleep in a bed. If y’all have any kind of influence up there”—she glanced up at the cloudless blue sky—“send down some luck that my old car will make it that far. I need a lot of help to get me to where I belong.”

She dusted off the seat of her wrinkled jeans and put on a pair of sunglasses that covered half of her delicate face and her green eyes. She settled into the driver’s seat and reached across the console for a ball cap. Pink with a rhinestone heart on the brim, it had been her eighteenth birthday present from her mother. Now it was her lucky hat, and she only wore it when she really, really needed good things to happen in her life.

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road.” She jerked a mousy-brown ponytail through the hole in the back.

While the radio didn’t work and the air-conditioning had gone out last summer, the gas tank was full. If those bald tires would just hold up until she got to her cousin’s place, that’s all she’d ask.

She drove past the place where her granny’s trailer used to sit. Now it was nothing but a field of dandelions and weeds. In Jancy’s mind a little three-bedroom, single-wide trailer with a flower bed on each side of the wooden porch occupied the lot. She slowed down at the church a block down the street. She and her mother had walked there every Sunday morning. A white-frame building with a steeple and a gravel parking lot, it had been filled to capacity the day they’d had Granny’s funeral, but then, she’d lived in Pick her whole life.

Jancy had always yearned for a life like that, but those things didn’t just happen overnight. To be that ingrained into a community, a person had to not only be born there but had to put down roots. She slowed down as she drove through town and passed the familiar places. The old junkyard had entered her rearview mirror when the car first sputtered. She patted the dash and sent up a silent prayer. Evidently God was listening to her mama and granny that day, because it didn’t stall out. She glanced over at the tall fence surrounding acres of wrecked or dead vehicles and wondered if Shane Adams still helped his grandpa with the business.

One block down the road was the Strawberry Hearts Diner. If she had had the money, she’d stop there and have breakfast. Her mouth watered just thinking of a plate of biscuits and gravy, but today she’d finish off the cheese crackers and day-old doughnuts in the back seat. She’d refill her water bottles in a gas station restroom. Food and coffee could wait until she reached Minnette’s place. She sure hoped that her cousin had been serious the last time they’d talked on the phone when she’d said that Jancy would be welcome to stay with her for a spell.

Jancy caught a whiff of bacon as she drew near to the diner. Her stomach grumbled, but then the strong smell of smoke filled the air. She first thought that someone must be burning old tires back at the junkyard, but then the smoke began to boil from the vents. By the time she braked and swung into the diner parking lot, her eyes were watering and she was coughing so hard that she could hardly breathe. Then she saw flames shooting out from under the hood.

She grabbed her purse and hurriedly made her way to the back of the car. Her hands shook as she unlocked the trunk and started throwing the four duffel bags and a suitcase as far as she could. If the fire hit that full gas tank, the people in Pick would think that a bomb had gone off. Was it parked far enough out in the lot that it wouldn’t damage the diner? She broke out in a run for it. Someone had to call the fire department.

God was finally punishing her for the past. Her car burning right there in Pick, Texas—that was too much to be coincidence. It was karma in the purest form coming back around to bite her on the fanny the very week after she was allowed to leave the state of Texas. Two days ago, she’d finally spent her last day in Amarillo and couldn’t wait to get on the road to Louisiana to Minnette’s place. Now all her plans were going up in smoke in front of her eyes.

When she heard the sirens, she plopped down on her old green duffel bag. With her head in her hands, she wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. Never, not once, in all her wandering had she been so destitute. She had sixteen dollars in her purse, half a pack of gum, and a Texas driver’s license that was only good for eight more months. Good luck renewing it without a place to live.

Of all the places in the state of Texas—for that matter, the whole world—Pick, Texas, was the last place she’d want to be stranded with nothing. Hopefully, truckers still stopped at the diner for those blue-plate specials. Maybe she could hitch a ride with one of them.

The red fire truck rolled into the lot, and two volunteer firemen hopped out, unwound the hose, and started spraying water on the vehicle.

“How much gas you got?” one of them yelled.

“Full tank!” She looked up and hollered. That’s when she saw Nettie and Vicky start toward her. Vicky knelt beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Can I help you or call someone for you?”