Girl in Pieces

I rub my face with a fresh dish towel, trying to erase the steam and heat of the kitchen. Little drops of sweat fall from my chin into the hot water pooling in the sink. Riley is walking down the corridor from the office, holding a folder of papers. He catches sight of me and frowns. He seems better today. It’s almost eleven o’clock and he hasn’t cracked a beer yet.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he says. “What did I tell you about the shirts? It’s hot back here, sweetheart. I don’t need you dying of heatstroke.”

“I don’t have any.” I busy myself by sliding plates into the tray.

“Well, get down to Goodwill and buy some after shift today.” He sets the invoice folder on the cutting board. “At least roll up your fucking sleeves, though. Just for me.”

I insert the tray in the machine, clang down the door, take up a load of wet silverware from the sink so I don’t have to look at him.

Riley’s voice becomes firm. “Roll up your sleeves, Strange Girl.”

He’s very close to me now. I can smell him through the dish steam, a mixture of sweat and spice, coffee and smoke. I stay very still.

Riley looks over at the front counter, where Linus is absorbed in cleaning the pastry case. He loosens my fingers so that the silverware drifts back into the sink water. Slowly, he pushes up one sleeve of my jersey shirt, just a little at first and then all the way to my elbow. He turns my forearm over.

I sense rather than see his chest suck in, and then out, deeply. I concentrate on the dirty food that floats in the sink, soggy chunks of meat and bread, tendrils of scrambled egg, but my heart is stuttering.

Something is happening as he’s touching me, though, something confusing: an electricity, a wire being strung through my skin.

He pulls that sleeve down. He checks my other arm. His fingers are warm and gentle.

“You’ve been dark places, Strange Girl.” He tucks the folder under his arm, slides the cigarette pack from his shirt pocket. He likes to sit and smoke with the men playing Go. “I remember you saying you tried to kill yourself, but that’s just goddamn annihilation.”

I look right at him. His eyes are dark and tired. He knows something about annihilation, too, which makes me a little less ashamed of my arms, I think.

He fits the cigarette into the corner of his mouth. “But you’ve got to own your travels. You’re a big girl now. There’s no going back from that shit, you know? Buy some goddamn short sleeves and fuck the world, you know?”

Halfway to the screen door, he turns back and hands me an envelope. “Almost forgot. Your first check. You’re finally officially on payroll, no more swanky cash in pocket for you. Sorry it took Jules so long to process it. Don’t spend it all in one place, y’all.” The screen door bangs shut behind him.

After the lunch rush, I open the envelope and my heart sinks almost immediately. The amount is smaller than I counted on, because I didn’t think of the taxes. I stare at the amount taken and the amount left over, which will just barely cover my rent. And then how will I buy anything I need until the next check? It was almost better when he paid me in cash. Tanner sees me looking at the check and he nods grimly.

“Fucking sucks, doesn’t it? I’m up to my ass in loans for school, but I can’t get a second job or I wouldn’t be able to study.” He dips his head in the direction of Linus, ringing somebody up at the front counter. “She works doubles here all the time and still has to sell plasma and shit to send money to her kids. Maybe ask your parents for some help?” He expertly rolls silverware in napkins.

I fold up the paycheck without answering him. Tanner swipes at his nose. “Most everybody here is in school and gets by on loans or money from parents, except for Temple. You haven’t met her. She works nights. She’s got four jobs. This one, driving an old lady to get groceries, working a booth at a sex shop, and tutoring some kid in Spanish.”

“I was lucky enough to find this job,” I say softly.

Tanner shrugs. “Gotta do what you gotta do to get by, I guess. Roommates help, even though that can suck, too. At least I make tips.” He gathers the napkined silverware in his arms and kicks open the door to the front of the café.

In a minute, he sticks his head back in. “Go check with Linus. She can probably cash that pitiful thing for you. I’m guessing you don’t have a bank account? If you try a check cashing place, they’ll just take a slice for themselves.”