PART 10 – A Phone Call From Earline Made Me Realize That She Still Thought My Paycheck Was Part of Her Retirement Plan

Friday morning arrived with rain.

The diner windows were covered in little drops.

I was preparing onions when my phone rang.

Earline.

I almost ignored it.

But I answered because I wanted to hear what she had to say.

"Angela, I need to speak with you."

"I'm at work."

"This is important."

I put the knife down.

"Go ahead."

She said she had been trying to make an appointment at the salon.

Her usual salon.

Her usual Friday.

The woman there had told her that the payment method on file was no longer available.

I closed my eyes.

Of course.

Even after everything, that was what she wanted to discuss.

"I don't have that account anymore," I said.

"Well, you need to fix it."

I stared at the cutting board.

"No."

There was a pause.

"What do you mean, no?"

"I mean I'm not paying for your appointments anymore."

She gave a frustrated sigh.

"You know how expensive everything has become."

I almost laughed.

I worked in a diner.

I knew exactly how expensive everything had become.

I also knew that I had never been able to afford an extra eighty thousand dollars.

"Then you'll have to make other arrangements."

She lowered her voice.

"Faron is having a difficult time."

I leaned against the counter.

"That's not my responsibility anymore."

"He was your husband."

"He isn't now."

She went quiet.

Then she said something that surprised me.

"You always had a good job. We never thought it was hurting you."

I looked down at my hands.

That sentence stayed with me.

They hadn't thought it was hurting me.

Perhaps because I never showed them.

Perhaps because I always paid.

Perhaps because I had spent years making sure nobody else had to feel uncomfortable about the money leaving my account.

But I had been hurting.

Every month.

Every statement.

Every extra shift.

"I worked hard for that money, Earline."

She didn't respond.

"I paid those bills from my paycheck and my tips. You knew that."

She sighed.

"I suppose you see things differently."

"I do."

Then I ended the call.

I returned to the onions.

My eyes were watering.

I told myself it was the onions.

Peg walked past and noticed my face.

"Everything all right?"

"Yes."

She looked at me for a moment.

Then she placed a clean towel beside me.

I appreciated that she didn't ask for an explanation.

During the afternoon, I received a message from Faron.

He said his mother was upset.

He said I had embarrassed her by making her pay for her own appointment.

I read it.

Then I put the phone away.

I remembered Earline's fresh perm on the courthouse steps.

I remembered the way she had laughed.

I didn't feel angry anymore.

Mostly, I felt tired.

That evening, I stopped at the salon on my way home.

Not to see Earline.

I needed to pick up a small bottle of shampoo I had ordered.

The receptionist recognized me.

"Hi, Angela."

I smiled.

"How are you?"

She handed me my purchase.

Then she mentioned Earline's appointment.

I didn't say anything.

I didn't need to.

I paid for my own shampoo and left.

It was a small purchase.

But it felt important.

I had paid for something because I wanted it.

Not because somebody expected me to.

Click here to continue reading: PART 11: Peg Asked Me One Question About the Register, and I Finally Understood Why Faron Had Chosen That Particular Threat