Uncharted Fate by Cynthia Racette Read Free Book Online Page B

as she stepped into the diner. On the inside it looked like one of those places from a sitcom about the fifties or sixties, what was it, Happy Days ? Only this was the real thing. They were actually playing oldies, too. She could hear the strains of “Peppermint Twist” coming from a speaker in the ceiling. It might be interesting to work in a place like this.
    The diner was slightly run-down, but clean, with a row of red vinyl-covered stools in front of a gray Formica counter, and booths along one wall. Although the décor was less than glamorous, the diner did a good business, especially at lunch. Businessman and shoppers frequented it because they served good, home-style meals at reasonable prices. It wasn’t the Ritz, but it was a decent, homey place, and she decided to apply for the job. Her situation was beginning to get desperate and she couldn’t afford to be choosy anymore.
    After waiting for five minutes by the cash register for the waitress to get a second to come over, Anna was told the proprietress was in a small office in the rear. She knocked on the doorframe, and a small plump woman with blue-gray hair, probably Betty, looked up from a ledger. "Yes? May I help you, miss?"
    Anna smiled, anxious. "I’d like to apply for the waitress job. I saw your sign in the window."
    Betty looked at the expensive wool dress Anna wore, hanging below her short, black, fur jacket. The woman started to speak, perhaps to say ‘no.’
    Then she looked into Anna’s eyes and something she saw there must have changed her mind. "Come in and sit down, please." She pointed to a black vinyl kitchen chair opposite her overcrowded desk.
    Anna sat on the edge of her chair. "I’m afraid I have no experience."
    "No doubt." Betty raised one eyebrow and sat back in her chair, chuckling. "I get the feelin’ this is the place where I’m supposed to say, ‘What’s a classy dame like you doin’ in a joint like this?’ Because lady, you don’t look like you need a job at all, let alone a waitress job in a diner."
    "I know." Anna shifted in her seat and smoothed the blue wool over her knees. "I was dressed for an interview with an employment agency. The interview fell flat." As Betty raised her other eyebrow, Anna explained, "You see, I’m not really qualified for anything."
    Betty shook her head. "This next question has got to be on the list of questions I’m not supposed to ask, nevertheless, my curiosity is killing me, so put an old lady out of her misery, will you? Why do you need a job like this?"
    "My husband was killed in a car accident last November. We didn’t have enough insurance and now I have to get a job."
    "Poor dear." Betty shook her head in sympathy. "November, you say. He wasn’t the man who was killed by that robber, was he?"
    "Yes, he was."
    "What an awful thing. It was a cryin’ shame. The guy who’s a criminal is never the guy who gets nailed. It’s always some poor innocent fella with a family." Her eyes were warm and sympathetic. "If you’re applyin’ here, I take it you didn’t have no luck any place else." She held up her hand. "Don’t get me wrong. I love this old place and it’s been my life for a long time, but I got no illusions. We ain’t on Times Square and this ain’t no fancy French restaurant."
    "The way the man at the employment office put it," Anna said wryly, "I have no 'marketable skills.' All I have are three years of college with a useless major in English Lit. I’ve been looking for a job for four months. I’m willing to do any sort of work. I know I haven’t got any kind of waitressing experience, but I’m a good cook, and I’ll work hard. I’d learn fast. I’m sure of it."
    "I admire your spunk." Betty looked down at her application. "Missus, ah, Lamoreaux, isn’t it?" Anna nodded. "I’ve got no doubt you could handle the job, and if you want it, it’s yours."
    "Oh, wonderful." Anna sighed in relief. She’d finally done it. "I’m very grateful."
    "I only hope you feel