A Table By the Window (37 page)

The girl eyed her. “You didn't sleep?”

“I slept like a log—once I finally
fell
asleep. And you?”

“The same.”

“We need to talk.”

Brooke sounded relieved. “Okay.”

“Let's finish making breakfast. I can't concentrate if you're flipping pancakes.” She went over to the refrigerator for the butter. “Would you like to try maple syrup this time?”

“Nope. Will you get out the cane, please?”

Carley made a face behind the open refrigerator door. Brooke had bought a quart can of Steen's 100% Pure Cane Syrup from Henderson's. Just a shade lighter than molasses, it had a strong flavor that dominated anything it was poured upon. She realized it was popular here—Uncle Rory ate it with biscuits almost every morning—but her California taste buds simply could not tolerate it.

Once Carley's tea and toast, Brooke's pancakes and milk, were assembled on the table, Carley pulled out chairs and waded into the subject on both their minds.

“I said I wouldn't discuss Brad Travis unless you brought it up. But I have to ask you why you chose him for a boyfriend.”

“I didn't choose him.” Brooke slathered butter on three pancakes. “He chose me.”

“And you were flattered. He must be very cute.”

Brooke colored, but she nodded. “He made a mistake. I'll bet you made mistakes when you were young. Maybe you didn't steal, but—”

“Oh, I stole.”

The girl's mouth parted.

“Lipsticks, earrings, even a pair of jeans one time. I'm ashamed to admit it—and by the way, I've never told anyone this besides the pack of friends I roamed with back then. But I never considered it a
mistake
. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I just didn't care.”

“But you straightened up, stopped doing it.”

“Yes.”

“Well, maybe Brad knows it was wrong too. Maybe he wants to change, like you did.”

Carley's ears picked up a subtle shade of doubt in Brooke's voice, but she did not call her on it. “I would be happy to hear that. But you shouldn't want to be the guinea pig.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's not enough for a person to
say
he wants to change. He has to prove it, not only to others, but to himself.”

“How?”

“Well, if he works hard at a job for a few years, pays his bills, obeys the law, treats everyone decently…”

“A few
years
?”

“What's your hurry, Brooke? You're
seventeen
. Is your whole life centered on waiting for this guy? You're willing to stake your future on someone who hasn't proven himself trustworthy?”

“Easy for you to say.” Brooke doused her pancakes with syrup. “I don't have that many boys wanting to date me, if you haven't noticed.”

“So what? Are only the girls with boyfriends worthy of the good things in life? There's so much more out there for you. If only you could see it.”

A thought entered her mind from another direction, and Carley went with it. “Let me ask you, Brooke. How did Brad treat Neal Henderson?”

“Neal?” Brooke glanced away for the telltale fraction of a second. “He treated him okay.”

“What did he call him behind his back?”

Brooke's expression was saturated with
How did you know?

Tears spiked the girl's lashes. She looked so much better without all the eyeliner, Carley thought, but she was the
last
person to lecture a girl about dependence upon makeup.

“He loves me, Carley.”

“Oh, Brooke…” Carley groaned. “Don't you know? Boys will say anything to get a girl to sleep with them. Did he ever ask you about your dreams, your goals? There's so much more out there for you than being some guy's amusement park.”

Brooke swallowed, whispered, “What's out there for me, Carley? I appreciate my job, but I'm a dishwasher.”

Carley spread her hands. “Everything, Brooke. You're young and bright, and a hard worker. What do you want?”

“I don't know.”

“That's okay. You don't
have
to know right now. But right now is when you start preparing yourself, so that when you
do
know, you haven't locked yourself into a life-style that's impossible to change.”

A very small degree of hope mingled with the resignation in Brooke's expression. “How would I do that? Prepare myself, I mean.”

“Education, Brooke. Why did you drop out of school?”

“I
hated
it.” Her face hardened. “The other girls called me a skank. I won't go back.”

Carefully, gently, Carley said, “So you're going to let them win?”

“What?”

“You'll set your sights low, while they go on to college, just so you don't have to associate with them for a couple more years?” She was well aware that she had not offered the same advice to Alton Terris. But Brooke did not have Alton's advantage of a wealthy family, hence, more choices.

“I'd rather
die
than go back there, Carley.”

“Okay.” Carley sighed again and opened a jar of Uncle Rory's muscadine jelly. “Look, our breakfast is getting cold. Why don't we save this discussion for later?”

“Okay.”

But halfway through her sodden pancakes, Brooke gave her one cautious look, then another.

“What?” Carley asked.

“I want to be a nurse.”

“Really?” Wary of such a quick decision, Carley said, “That just came to you?”

“No. I've been thinkin' about that ever since I was little—how good it would feel to help make people well. I used to pretend-doctor our dogs and cats. And then when I'd see Miss Arleen go off to work in her uniform, I wished I could be like her.”

“Why didn't you mention it when I asked?”

She shrugged. “I don't know how to become one.”

“No one is born knowing anything about anything. How about if I find out? Ruby Moore works for the school board and has all sorts of contacts.”

“You won't tell her why you're asking, will you?”

“Well, that might be difficult.”

“I don't want anybody laughing at me.”

Carley touched Brooke's scarred arm. “All right, no names.”

The telephone rang while Carley was towel-drying her hair in the bathroom.

“I'LL GET IT!” Brooke called.

Carley could not help but smile at the sound of bare feet thumping. For all the emotional ups and downs of having a teenager in the house, it was not boring.

The kitchen wall telephone was just around the corner past the short hall. Through the door, Carley overheard, “I don't know. I think I'd be embarrassed.”

After a short silence “You wouldn't mind?”

Another silence, then, “Okay, I'll be ready.”

“You're not gonna need me for anything tomorrow mornin', are you?” Brooke asked when Carley walked out in her robe.

“No. I'm going out.”

“Oh,” Brooke said with flat voice. “With Chief Dale?”

“Brooke…we're just going on a picnic. As friends. Who was on the phone?”

The girl took in a breath. “Miss Helen invited me to church. She said it's mostly just old people, and that if I get uncomfortable, they'll take me home. And we'll go to the Old Grist Mill afterward.”

“It's good of you to agree,” Carley said with a twinge of guilt. “That'll mean a lot to them.” She walked on into the kitchen, where her teakettle was sending out a tinny little whistle. “Thanks for putting on the water.”

“You're welcome,” Brooke said, following. “Anyway, I have a feeling they're the ones who bought the clothes, so I couldn't really say
no
. But it might be interesting. I've never been inside a church.”

Carley set the Natchez Trace mug on the breakfast table. “Not even for a funeral or wedding?”

“We didn't go to any of my grandparents' funerals. And my kin aren't really into marrying. Anyway, Dad chased away the Vacation Bible School bus. He says his folks beat religion into him when he was a boy, and that church people are hypocrites.”

“He shouldn't judge people he hasn't even met,” Carley said before thinking.
Wonderful,
she told herself.
You're in league with Melvin Kimball
.

****

“Sour-Bessie plain, egg-pie, Popeye,” Paula sang to Rachel and Lisa in the kitchen of Annabel Lee Café.

It both disturbed and amused Carley that she was able to figure out their verbal shorthand. Roast beef on sourdough with no mayonnaise, quiche Lorraine, and spinach salad. Whatever helped to break the monotony, though there was little monotony on this Saturday, with most or all tables filled at any given time.

When Carley squeezed in time to telephone Ruby, her neighbor insisted she and Brooke come over after work for German chocolate cake and a game of UNO.

“Now, what did you want to ask me?” Ruby asked, dealing cards at her dining room table.

“Oh, just something I'm curious about,” Carley replied without looking at Brooke. “With two hospitals in Hattiesburg, there must be some nursing education available in this area?”

“Absolutely,” Ruby replied. “And the newspaper often mentions a nursing shortage. It would be a good field for a young person to look into. But I thought you were happy with running a restaurant.”

“It's for me, Miss Ruby,” Brooke said, having either decided Ruby could be trusted, or that this was worth risking being mocked.

Carley had to restrain a smile at the pretend surprise in Ruby's expression. “What a good idea. You'd make a fine nurse.”

Brooke flushed with pleasure. “Why do you say that?”

Ruby winked at her. “Because you're not a wimpy little girly-girl. When I had my hysterectomy nine years ago, my favorite nurses were the tough ones.”

“Thank you.” The girl hesitated. “The problem is, I dropped out of school. And I don't want to go back.”

“Can you read on an eighth-grade level?”

“I think so.”

“She can,” Carley said.

Ruby rose to write
Pearl River Community College
on an index card. “It's in Poplarville, not too far away. You can get into the LPN program with your General Education Diploma, and the state gives free online courses to help prepare you for it. Check out both Web sites.”

Carley did, in her own living room an hour later with Brooke hovering at her shoulder. The girl would be required to score an average of forty-five on her General Education Diploma exam, and then an eighteen composite score on the ACT.

“But you have to be tested first, to see which GED courses you need to take,” Carley said. “You'd have until July to get all this in, if we're thinking about next fall.”

When Brooke did not comment, Carley turned and caught the panic in her eyes.

“It says I have to be eighteen to take the GED.”

“But not the online courses, Brooke. And you'll be eighteen in January, right?”

“Well, yeah. But what about my job?”

“The courses are available twenty-four hours a day. And
I
can help you as much as time allows.”

Cautious hope entered the girl's expression. “When you see the steps all laid out like this, it…doesn't seem impossible, does it?”

“I won't lie. It won't be a cakewalk. Not with your job.” A way to lighten that load came to Carley's mind. Mentally she pushed it away, but it bounded back. Stifling a sigh, she said, “And we'll cut your hours to part-time.”

Panic flashed again in her eyes. “Please don't.”

“But why not? You have minimal expenses here, and eight hours is a long time to stand at a sink anyway. You'll burn out if you don't have time to take a break now and then, even watch a little
Columbo
.”

“But what about the dishes when I'm not there?”

“I'll hire a high schooler to come in at four. They're always applying. You'll still have five hours every day—enough to put away some money for nursing school.”

Brooke bit her lip.

Carley smiled at her. “Teal green uniform with
Brooke
on the badge? Making sick people feel better?”

The girl smiled back, said dreamily, “Wouldn't that be something?”

“It would.” Carley's fingers returned to the keyboard. “But horse before cart, remember? Let's find out the date for the next test.”

****

“Did you know Poloma is Choctaw for
Bow
?” Dale said, driving the Mustang across the bridge north of Tallulah, where Main Street melded into Highway 589.

“No.” With new eyes Carley looked to the right and the left, where the sandy-banked river dipped southward several hundred feet past the bridge. “But I see how it fits.”

They rode in companionable silence, passing a field of sugar cane with four-foot-high green stalks. Carley smiled and thought of Brooke and her cane syrup. The girl had actually seemed pleased when Aunt Helen and Uncle Rory came for her this morning. She was dressed modestly in her khaki skirt and a sea green knit top that enhanced her green eyes. Her hair still stood out in spikes, but that was Brooke.

“Brooke's being tested to see if she qualifies for GED online courses the Friday after next,” Carley said.

“Why doesn't she just go back to school?” Dale asked.

“She said she'd rather die.”

“Are all teenage girls so dramatic?”

She smiled. “Yep. Pretty much. Anyway, we're aiming toward nursing courses at Pearl River Junior College next fall. If she qualifies, I'll hire a high schooler to share her shift.”

“Does that mean she agreed to dump Brad Travis?”

“Yes.” Or at least Carley thought that was the agreement.