“Good luck.” Dennis nodded and turned back to his group. I heard him laugh as we walked away.
The first three restaurants we entered said the manager wasn’t there; seemed like a common theme. The next two said they weren’t looking for help.
On our walk back to the motel, Felix dreamed about what life would be like after we started making money. My spirits were lower than at the beginning of the day but not quite broken. Yet.
He kept chattering. “We’ll rent a little place in Cedars; it’s a nicer area than South Dallas. We’ll have a car, so we can live a little ways from work. Maybe we’ll get a job in one of the warehouses, I hear they pay more than minimum and offer insurance. Vacation time, even. We’ll name our dog Oliver.” As if we had finished our conversation, Felix changed subjects. “Hungry?”
“The usual?”
Street tacos were a common lunch offered by vendors on the corner of most intersections. For a dollar apiece, we could fill our stomach on the cheap. I didn’t know for sure, but I had the feeling Felix didn't have much money left. I needed to conserve what I had, too, so we made it a point to not spend what wasn’t necessary. We didn’t have a refrigerator, so we needed to eat out.
“Hey, why don’t we try that place Dennis mentioned. It’s on our way home. I wonder what timethe lunch special ends? It’s probably time for dinner by now. I could really go for a good meal.” His steps quickened and I picked up the pace to keep up.
“Yeah, me, too.”
Elaine’s Kitchen was the best place in Dallas for Caribbean food, as far as Dennis had told us. He said the dinner was a really good deal; for only five dollars, you could get a big piece of jerk chicken, greens, and a huge scoop of dirty rice. Even if it was left over from the night before, or two days before, it was still good.
The chime signaled the opening of the door into a small but full restaurant. A pretty, young brunette turned and greeted us with a smile that reached her big brown eyes. Her hair fell straight to the nape of her neck. After showing us to our table, she turned and brought us glasses of water and menus.
In a shy, unsure voice, she asked if we were ready to order. I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her long enough to look at the menu. She had a gleam in her eye, and I instantly understood that at one point in her life, she had been audacious. She hid her beauty like she was saving it for someone special.
I pushed my glasses up my nose. “I’d like the special, please.”
“Make that two,” Felix added.
Her chuckle made my heart skip a beat. “But I haven’t told you what the special is. Would you like tohear it?”
Felix and I both nodded.
“Jerk chicken, dirty rice, and greens. Five dollars.” She tilted her head.
“I’d like the special, please.”
“Make that two,” Felix added.
Our repeated request was met with a full-on laugh. For a moment, I heard angels singing. While we waited for our meals, she checked on us multiple times between delivering food to other customers.
“You worked here long?” Felix raised one eyebrow. I was unable to form any words. Her aura mixed with the whiskey left me dizzy.
“Just moved here about a month ago.” She shifted her eyes down and played with her apron strings.
Before we had a chance to get to know the pretty waitress, the chef rang a bell. “Order up.”
“That’s for you.” She turned and I couldn’t help watching her backside as she walked away. I knew almost nothing about her, but I got the feeling that she was sweet and maybe a little down on her luck, like us.
WAITING FOR thenight to end, Felix and I sat on the bottom step and enjoyed the finally mild weather. We had only half finished our shared bottle when my friend got froggy. “So, you and the pretty waitress, huh?”
“What?”
“She looked at you like you’re her long-lost love. Like she has a connection to you. Like the two of you belong together.”
“Listen, Vato, women are the last thing on my mind.” I took a hard swig and shook my head. Lowering my voice so no one could hear, I admitted, “I wouldn't know the first thing to do if I was alone in a room with her.”
“What? A good-looking dude like you don’t know what to do. How did that happen?”
The whiskey hit me hard, and I blabbed about everything. Everything. From my dad hitting my mom, to the night they both died, to my time in juvy. I half expected him to laugh; when he didn’t, I expected him to run. I wiped my eyes and waited for his retort.
After a long pause, he pursed his lips. “Moose, man, I’m real sorry. I’ll always be here for you. And if you ever need to talk again, we can. My story isn't that far off from yours.”
