Second Chances

Chapter 6

"Take chances; you never know when something good will come out of it."

– Unknown

On the Saturday after moving to the small apartment in Westfield, I went for a walk and came back with a job.

            It was a sunny day and had a high of seventy-eight, the warmest it had been since I moved there, so I threw on a pair of dark shorts, a white tank top, and black Chuck Taylors before sliding out the door with my phone and mp3 in hand. I slipped in my ear buds and put my music on shuffle as I breathed in the crisp, clean air, my sunglasses perched on my nose.

            Dad was busy at the school, prepping for his new job—which I had yet to be told what it even was. Terrance was also out and about, working as a delivery boy for the pizzeria downtown (luckily they had a truck for him to drive, although it was shaped like a giant calzone with 'Toni's Pizzeria' stamped across the side). With the two of them gone and with nothing to do back at the apartment, I figured that I'd go and get some fresh air, maybe check out the town to get an idea of where everything was.

            I walked for a good ten minutes before I smelled the sweet aroma of burgers and greasy fries. My stomach rumbled and I knew I should've eaten before I began my walk since I didn't have any money on me, but I found myself moving toward the smell anyway.

            The scent of fried food led me to a fifties styled diner that said Jo-Jo's on the sign. The building was blue and white with retro red doors that had silver diagonal handles. When I pulled open one of the doors, I was met by a checkered black and white floor and large windows with booths in front. There was a bar across from me that had red leather stools that spun, the two chefs working in the kitchen clearly visible through the large window that resided behind the bar.

            Not only was the smell stronger, but when I looked around, it appeared that nearly every booth and table were taken, only a few bar seats empty. I also noticed one rather frazzled looking waitress hopping from table to table with a tray under her arm, a small pad of paper and pen in hand as she scribbled down people's orders. There was a soft ding that came from the kitchen, followed by a gruff voice yelling "Order up!" before coughing.

            "Hey hon, just take a seat wherever and I'll be with you in a minute," the waitress said with a slight lilt as she walked by me.

            "Actually I'm not—"

            She whipped around and narrowed her eyes at me. "You're not orderin'?"

            "Um, no, I actually—"

            Before I could even finish my sentence she interrupted me again with a relieved look on her face.

            "You saw the ad, thank the Lord. Come with me," she grabbed my wrist and dragged me down a small hallway.

            "Stacey quit yesterday, thinkin' herself too good for us, and then Margaret is on maternity leave for the next few weeks," she explained as she led me to a small storage room where she shoved a white apron into my hand. "I'll get ya a uniform after the lunch rush, for now you can stay as ya are," she rummaged along a low shelf until she found a small pad of paper and a pen, which she handed over to me as well. "We'll consider this your interview. Now I need ya to take the right, and I'll take the left. We are a little understaffed at the moment if ya couldn't tell."