Fancy's Not My Name

Put On Hold

The week had been slow at the diner. The weather stayed dark and wet for days, and it was rare to see anyone outside.

To pass the time Dottie wiped down her station repeatedly. The others did similar things as the day wore on, but spent most of their shifts chatting with each other.

The owner of the diner stepped out from his office in the back and walked to the center of the room. He cleared his throat to gather everyone's attention.

He waited patiently for the cooks to come out of the kitchen and the waitstaff to gather.

"Seeing as we've had next to no customers this week, and none at all today, I've decided to close the diner until the weather clears up." The round and slightly red-faced man said to his employees.

Dottie sighed. She knew this would cause her family even more problems. Her pay check is the only thing keeping a roof over their heads. And now she wouldn't be getting a very good one. She'll be lucky if she can cover rent with the money she made last week.

"Even though I'm technically giving you all a holiday, it won't be a paid one." He continued.

A few of Dottie's coworkers groaned. She'd expected the words though. Her boss had a tendency to skimp out on paying his employees extra—for holidays for example.

They were dismissed shortly after the man's announcement. Dottie stood from her spot in one of the vinyl lined booths dejectedly. Everyone made their way into the back and to their lockers to collect their belongings and leave.

She was the last to exit the diner. The wind whipped her hair around and seeped through the thin material of her cardigan. Rain drops spattered against her cheeks as she walked down the street.

Thunder rumbled far too close for her liking and she quickened her pace. As she turned a corner the wind suddenly grew stronger. It ripped past her ears and drowned out all other sound. Dottie shivered. The black clouds overhead made the street darker and a little less friendly.

She cast her eyes around worriedly. She was alone on the street. The only person crazy enough to be out in this weather. But that still didn't ease her worry that something could happen. She crossed into the familiar neighborhood she'd spent many afternoons babysitting in. A metal clanging behind her drew a startled gasp from Dottie's lips.

But when she turned around there was no one there.

She stayed still for a few moments and looked around. The wind tore viciously at her face and hair. Her clothes were damp now and her shoes were completely soaked.

Dottie stood a moment longer to be sure there was nobody there. She let out a sigh and mentally scolded herself.

Who else in their right mind would be out in weather like this?

She turned back around and continued her walk back home. Dottie panicked as a hand was suddenly clamped around her mouth. She was thrown to the ground, her purse ripped out of her hands.

She sat up and scurried back away from whoever was there.

She watched in scared silence as a man with a long shaggy beard and dirty clothes dumped the contents of her bag onto the pavement. All that came out was her spare key and her name tag. The stranger grunted in anger when those were the only two items concealed in the small, worn out bag.

He threw the purse at Dottie and kicked her name tag into the street before walking off. Dottie stayed in her place, trying to slow her racing heartbeat.

Once she'd calmed down she reached for her key and slipped it back into her purse. She jogged to the middle of the road to retrieve her now scuffed up name tag and returned it to its previous place. She gripped her purse tight to her chest and all but ran to the road that would take her out of town.

She hurried down the path to her house and trudged through the wet grass and piles of mud to get to the front door. She shut the door quickly behind her and kicked off her disgusting shoes.

"What are you doing home?" Her Pa asked gruffly.

"No one was coming to the diner, so Joe decided to close up until the weather clears." She answered meekly.

Dottie noticed her mother sitting in her rocking chair with a sleeping Tommy in her arms.

She was being oddly quiet.  There was no cheerful greeting. No invitation for a small hug. Not even the slightest of smiles from the usually optimistic mother of two. Dottie decided not to question her mother's silence as the tense atmosphere of the room settled in. She assumed her parents had been arguing; something they do often now a days.

It's usually over Tommy. Her father only saw him as a burden and another mouth to feed and tried regularly to get his wife to abandon him somewhere. But her mother always refused.

Dottie slipped behind the curtain separating her parents' 'bedroom' from her own. She slipped off her ruined stockings and waterlogged sweater. She hung the thin blue item from the end of her bed and grabbed her nightgown from under her pillow.

She exchanged her wet uniform for the soft article and sighed quietly at the comfort of dry clothes. She pulled the curtain back once she was finished and walked over to the small kitchen to start on an early dinner.

All they had was leftover broth, two potatoes and a carrot. She chopped the vegetables and poured them, along with the broth into a pot.

It took Dottie a moment to find the matchbook. She struck one and lit the stove to begin heating the family's meager dinner. A crack of thunder shook the house and woke the baby.

His mother hushed him gently as he cried, trying to calm the poor boy down. Dottie searched through the large drawer full of kitchen supplies for everything else she'd need for dinner.

She pulled out bowls and three spoons, as well as a ladle. She stumbled across a nearly empty jar of oregano and decided to add a bit to the stew.

She served the steaming meal once it began to boil. Dottie ate with her father at the table while her mother stayed with her brother to eat. Whatever happened while Dottie was gone must have been bad if her parents wouldn't even eat together.

Even through all their troubles and struggles, Dottie had always known her parents to be loving people. They'd argue like any normal couple. But they'd always get passed whatever it was and forgive each other. This however, felt different than all the other times.

Her Pa kept his eyes locked on his bowl. Her mother didn't even touch her food. Once she'd finished Dottie collected the dishes and filled the wash basin with water.

She washed the dishes in silence and listened to the sound of the rain hitting the roof. It had picked up since she got home. A dark and strong storm had rolled in, drenching New Orleans in another coating of water. Dottie glanced out the window and watched lightning flash in the distance. It was going to be a long night.