So there they were. Arlene went into a whole monologue describing exactly what was wrong with her mother and what it meant to her. Bottom lines were simple. Her mother was very sick, maybe not going to live for much longer and the treatments she needed were very expensive. This meant Arlene was going to have to work nights and days and be away from her mother much more than she wanted to be.
“Life sucks,” she said.
Bill didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why Arlene was telling him this. He wondered if she had told Tommy or any of the other waitresses. He wondered if she had other family who could help out. He clearly agreed that life sucked.
He listened. He had a bottle of beer in his hands and sipped at it slowly. He looked to his feet and shuffled his butt a little as he sat on the metal milk cases.
“You closing girl?” he asked.
“Yeah,” said Arlene. “But I’m not making any money tonight. No one is.”
“Check the basketball schedule,” said Bill. “When the buckeyes are playing we always have good business. Make sure you get those shifts.”
“It’s not that easy,” said Arlene. “I don’t have any seniority and I don’t have any pull. I know Tommy will help me out when he can, but there’s not much he can do. If I want the good shifts when I want them, I have to screw Drenovis.”
“Life does suck,” said Bill. “Let me see what I can do.”
“What can you do?”
“Give me a few days. I’ll do it quickly.”
“Think anything will happen?”
“Like what?”
“With my shifts.”
“Of course it will.”
“That’s not why I came out to sit with you,” said Arlene.
Bill said, “I didn’t think so. You want a piece of pie?”
“Sure.”
“What do you like?”
“Cherry.”
“Lexi knows you’re out here, right?”
“Yeah. She told me to take my time.”
Bill got up and walked through the kitchen over to the pantry station. He helped himself to a piece of cherry pie then stopped to see what Esserine was doing.
“You eating pie now?” she asked.
“It’s for Arlene. What you up to?”
“Hanging out. Deciding whether I should start to cleanup or not. What’s up with her?”
“I’ll tell you more later,” said Bill.
Esserine said, “You don’t need another girlfriend.”
“It’s not like that,” said Bill.
He walked through the line back into the hall, handed Arlene the plate with the pie on it and sat back down.
He said, “When you go back out, bring me another beer and ask Bebe what she wants for dinner.”
Arlene took a forkful of pie and ate it. Bill watched her, gave her the once over although he couldn’t say why. He wanted to ask her if she wanted to talk but he was hesitant. It seemed, and it felt logical, that she did. Otherwise, he thought, she wouldn’t have said anything in the first place.
Arlene was conscious of him watching her. She shifted on the lettuce cases and made sure her legs were not wide open.
“Pie is good,” she said.
“You’re not supposed to be eating it,” said Bill.
“Yeah, I know.”
“So,” Bill said, “you want to go somewhere after work and talk?”
“I think I do,” said Arlene. “Something tells me you’d be a good person to talk to.”
Bill was about to say something when he heard the automatic doors open in the kitchen. He was about to say that he didn’t know if he were a good person to talk to or not, but he would certainly try to be. But he didn’t get the words out. He heard the bell a second after the doors opened and he stood up immediately.
