Love Is Where You Find It

Part 12

Time passes by and nothing really changes. Loretta goes to work and the kids to school. Cissie has her birthday and for a while, she and Ernest are the same age. 

Her own birthday comes, on a Saturday this time. Her parents tell her 'Happy Birthday' and Daddy slips her a crumpled five dollar bill when Mommy isn't looking. Loretta is used to her birthday not being observed and really doesn't care either way. She's too bashful to enjoy being the center of attention anyhow and no one should feel forced to spend money on her.

"Here!" Cissie places a piece of paper on the table in front of her mother. "I made you a picture."

"Thank you, Cissie," Loretta tells her before she's even looked at it. It's a stick figure with wild, curly hair, surrounded by smaller stick figures. On top shaky letters spell out 'Happy Birthday, Mommy.'

A few of the letters are upside down down. There is no way Cissie figured out how to write this on her own. But it looks as though she really put effort into it; it's one of her better drawings.

"I wrote that," Betty Sue says, pointing out the writing.

Cissie glares at her. "You said you wouldn't tell."

"She won't never believe that you wrote it anyway. You can't write."

"And you couldn't when you was that young," Loretta cuts in. "She's gonna learn too. And now Mommy's gonna have to go to work."

"On Saturday?" Cissie whines. "But why?"

"Cause we gotta eat." Loretta grabs her daughter under her armpits, picks her up for a moment to give her a kiss. "I'll see you tonight. You play with your doll."

Cissie had gotten a doll, which she'd carried everywhere all week, for her birthday.

Loretta steps out of the house, hurrying to catch the bus. When she gets to the diner, Henry is waiting for her. Her stomach drops as her mind goes through all the possible reasons why. Was she late? Did she do something wrong? Or worse yet, was she going to be fired today?

"The bus ain't fun, eh?" Henry throws out when she reaches him.

"It is what it is. I can't drive. We decided I wasn't gonna cause Doo can." We. It's a hard habit to break, a dozen years of first person plural. It takes time and distance to remember not to say it, but an entire continent doesn't seem like enough. She looks at the kids and sees Doo, though people always tell her that they all look like her. Loretta doesn't really see it.

Luckily Henry seems to understand. Not what exactly the issue is, but that she is uncomfortable.

Loretta is just about to walk into the diner when Henry says, "Happy Birthday, Loretta." and her head snaps around.

"How do you know that today is my birthday?" Loretta demands without thinking.

"It said so on your resume. I got you a little somethin' somethin'."

Loretta wrinkles her brows at his wording. "Uh-huh."

"Well aren't you excited at all?"

"You didn't have to get me nothing."

"I know. But I wanted to. Now come on." He is bubbling with excitement, grabs her by the elbow and leads her into the backroom.

Lou, the burly cook, stands there with a wide grin on his face. His hands are behind his back and his grin seems to only widen in response to the perplexed expression Loretta is wearing.

"Happy Birthday, little Loretta," Lou exclaims, revealing a small frosted cupcake with a candle on top.

The smile Loretta responds with is genuine. She is somewhere between embarrassed and happy.