The life of Sandy Rose

Chapter 4: September 1925

"So who is this infamous friend then?" Johnny asked Sandy when she had arrived home and taken off her coat. He was in the kitchen with a glass of milk, like he were a little child who couldn't sleep.
"She is not infamous," Sandy found herself saying. Mary had her moments, but Sandy found herself wanting to spend more time with Mary and her home. And her husband, though she tried to put at the back of her mind at that moment.
"So who is she?" Johnny pressed.
"Mary Lovett," Sandy said in a calm voice. Johnny did the same thing as her when Mary had first called her, as if he were just thinking and searching his mind as to who Mary was, until he settled and he frowned.
"That bitch is still alive?" Johnny asked rudely. Sandy stopped in her tracks and frowned at him. Her brother wasn't soft spoken, but he never really used words like that, especially around his sister, but there was something about Mary that set him off.
"Johnny...," Sandy put her hands on her hips.
"Don't Johnny me. So what you're telling me is that you've met up with the whore that pushed you in front of that car when you were ten?" He questioned his sister. She didn't recall such.
"She never pushed me. I tripped," Sandy claimed, but she only faintly remembered the incident that separated them and annulled their friendship.
"Of course," Johnny said sarcastically, and he sipped his milk.
"And she's not a whore, she's married," Sandy added, going to the sink to wash the dishes that lingered there.
"That doesn't make her any less than what I see in her. All she did was boss you about and criticise you and remember that time she came over here and turned her pointy, snotty nose up at us!"Johnny suddenly outburst, shocking Sandy, making her drop a plate on the ground and it smashed to prices on the checked floor.
Johnny sighed and Sandy bit her lip nervously.
"Johnny, don't yell at me," she said quietly, but he heard her; he was sorry, but all he wished was to protect his sister, as she was too quick to accept people back; too quick to accept fake love, that it kept him up at night, worrying.
He made his way over to her after getting off all the counter stool. He envelopes his sister in a warm hug, her head resting on his chest.
"I'm sorry," he uttered, " I just want to protect you," he told her.
"Johnny?"she whispered.
"Hmm?"
"I can protect myself," she asserted, and he had to make her happy by trusting her.

The next day at work, Sandy got to work on time and took orders, coolly ignoring pestering men asking crude and insensitive and shameful questions. She ignored Shelly's stupid remarks, but one person she couldn't ignore in her place of work was her boss. He had sat with another man in the Café, discussing, but when his friend left, he got up and watched the staff work, but all could tell his main focus was on poor Sandy, who tried to edge past him and the tables to serve and take orders. He stood with his arms folded, his moustache twitching, his beady eyes following Sandy wherever she walked. She tried keeping her head down, but his stare seemed to bore right through to her anyway. She could just tell he was still focused on her and her only.
Just as Sandy thought he wasn't going to do anything, he cleared his voice and stopped Sandy by holding onto her arm, her holding two plates of breakfast. Her eyes looked up at his and he smiled at her in the midst of everyone.
"Now what does he want?" She thought to herself, annoyed.
"Serve those plates and meet me in my office, Sandy," he ordered her, but his voice was lowered. She sighed, slightly wrenching herself from him and serving the two men waiting for their food. When she turned, Jasper was gone. She hesitated. Surely, he wouldn't come back out to get her?
Shelly was watching.
"You better go, Sandy, I bet it's important," she sneered at Sandy. Sandy blocked her out, but chose to go. She didn't want to lose her job for not following a simple instruction, from her boss of all people.
She went to the back and made a right turn down the corridor to the end of it where her boss' door was. She knocked lightly, taking deep breaths.
Please be about work, please be about work, please be about work, she chanted in her head, twiddling her fingers.
"Come in," she heard his voice answer. She came in and wished to leave the door open, but he came from his desk and locked the door with his key. She swallowed.
She tried to distract herself by looking around the room. It was quite plain for an office, the carpet was plain brown and the walls were a mocha colour with a few baseless paintings and there was a bookcase and a filing cabinet and papers littered on the desk beside a typewriter.
She then froze as Jasper came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She was a fool.