Jettie Woodruff - Underestimated

“Honey, you do whatever you want to do here. I don’t plan to spend much time here, now that I have you. You’re going to be running the joint, so make it your home.”

I smiled, relieved as I relaxed.

Friday was the busiest day I had seen since I had started. I sold some of the clothing articles to some high school girls and some of the Indian figurines to some tourist. The coffee had to be replenished throughout the day and we opened up one of the boxes in the back and restocked the shelves with figurines.

“Where do you get these?” I asked Starlight, unwrapping a family of picnicking figurines.

“I go to this trade show in Las Vegas twice a year. I will take you some time. It’s the coolest thing ever.”

My heart sped up at the mention of Las Vegas. I wouldn’t be going anywhere near that trade show.

“How do you get the things here?” I asked.

“They ship it to me after the show.”

“There isn’t a website to just order the things?”

Starlight shrugged her shoulders as she continued to unpack the little knickknacks. “Maybe, but the trade show is too much fun for that,” she smiled at me.

Starlight showed me where to find the petty cash, once she remembered where it was herself. She explained that I could use anything from the storeroom that I wanted and to replenish the shelves with whatever I wanted. I was looking forward to getting my hands on the rat race.

Lauren and I ate the meatloaf special for supper at Millie’s, and it reminded of my Grandma Joyce’s. We got the warm apple pie for dessert and then I let her talk me into going to the town bar. I had never been to a bar in my life. I’d been to elaborate restaurants and fancy clubs, but never to a bar. I didn’t want to go to a bar. I just wanted to go home to my little house, sit on my deck and gaze at the beautiful sky overlooking the ocean.

“Come on, please,” she begged.

I acquiesced, against my will. Why not? I had done things against my will my entire life, at least Lauren had my best interest at heart, sort of.

It was just a small bar with an old wooden floor, but the place was hopping, and packed to the gill. There was a band playing toward the right with an area cleared for dancing. A nice looking guy waved us over and we sat at the table with him right in front of the guy singing something about a long black train.

“This is Joel, Riley,” Lauren introduced the guy and then he kissed her.

I wondered if this was the same guy that had spent the night with her the weekend before. Another guy joined us, and she introduced him as Levi. It was nice to put a face with the voice. We were both brought beers. I took my wallet from my purse and Levi put his hand over mine.

“You are offending me, put that away,” he demanded.

I jerked my hand away, not realizing that I did it with so much conviction.

“Whoa,” he stated, putting both hands in the air.

“Sorry,” I said and noticed the puzzled look on Lauren’s face over my reaction. “Thank you,” I said and turned my attention to the singer on stage.

Can someone say…Idiot?

I kept my attention on the stage, not knowing how to act around people. I felt like such an outsider, and didn’t know what I should or shouldn’t say. The two men and Lauren did all of the talking, and although they did try to include me, it was awkward for me. I was never allowed to speak when I went out with Drew. He was afraid that I would embarrass him or myself, so I played the pretty obedient wife and stood to his side. I noticeably shook my head, trying to rid the thoughts of my memories of being in the presence of Drew.

Lauren stood and made me follow her to the bathroom. There was only one stall in the bathroom, and we waited outside the door for it to be unoccupied.

“What is your deal, girlfriend?” Lauren asked.

I feigned ignorance. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you seen Levi staring at you? He likes you, and you haven’t even noticed. You’re off in some other time.”

I groaned. I didn’t want Levi to look at me. I didn’t want Levi to like me. I didn’t want Levi to do anything. I wasn’t interested in Levi. “I just don’t think I like being here very much, Lauren. I have never been to a bar.”

“You’re joking,” she implied as the door opened and she pulled me in with her.

Lauren dropped her pants and immodestly used the toilet, holding herself up from sitting on the seat.

“I think I am going to take off. I have to open the shop in the morning for the first time by myself.”

“Ry, it’s only nine o’clock. You’re just going to go home and sit by yourself.”

“I’m okay with that,” I assured her, trying not to look at her squatted on the toilet. I was okay with that. I was used to spending my time alone.

“You can’t tell me that you don’t think Levi is cute.”

“Lauren, please don’t try and fix me up with anyone. I don’t want anyone, okay?” I pleaded.

“Okay. If you really want to go, I will get a ride with Joel.”

“So, are you going to tell me about Joel? Was he your company last weekend?” I asked, not wanting to talk about me and my hang-ups with men at the time.

“I guess we are monogamous. He works on the oil rigs all week and is only home on the weekends, best kind of man to have,” she added, teasing.

I didn’t go back to the table with Lauren. She was giving me an easy out, and I was taking it. She gave me her keys, and I drove her jalopy of a car back to her house. I thought my ninety three Honda was bad, that thing was running on one cylinder.

I didn’t leave the porch light on, not knowing that I was going to be out past dark. I walked across the road to my house after parking Lauren’s car, and my heart begun to beat in rapid thumps again . I hated being frightened all the time. There is nothing in there, Morgan, I said out loud and then shook my head at calling myself Morgan. I unlocked the door and pushed it, standing on the porch, peering in. I reached my arm around to the side and flipped on the light without entering. I shook my head again at how silly I was being.

I lay in my comfortable bed and stared up at the ceiling. Would I ever be normal again, wait, have I even ever been normal? What exactly defines normal? My mind drifted to my childhood, and that too, I was sure was as anomalous as imaginable. My Grandma Joyce was probably the most usual person from that time of my life. There were a few things that she had told me that were probably not the healthiest things to be telling a little girl.

I remembered sitting on the front porch of her one room cabin and listening to the stories of her childhood and living through the hard times on the mountain. She had always told me that no matter how bad I thought that I had it, somebody else always had it worse. I am not sure that was possible, but then again, I’m sure it is. I could have been born a lot worse off than I was, I suppose.

I thought about little Justin, although I am sure he’s not so little anymore. He had been put into foster care almost seven years ago. He would be twelve years old this summer. I hoped he was adopted and had a good life. I hated the thought of him being strung about from foster home to foster home. I hated my mother for so long for leaving us and forcing him to live that life, then again my dad could have kept it from happening if he wanted to. I couldn’t imagine choosing my alcohol over my son. My mother, I could almost forgive. I said almost. I still hated her for not taking us with her, even though I could understand her running away from her life of hell.

I was raised in the Appalachian Mountains, a small town in West Virginia where poverty is real, and still exists to this day. I was raised to believe that you grew up, signed up for welfare, and had lots of babies so that you could get more welfare and more food stamps. That was normal, and then after moving to Las Vegas and living the life of luxury that became my normal. Now, well, now this was normal.