Chapter 15 Nights That Burn the Past
POV Scarlett:
So this is it.
I think as I hold the waitress uniform in my hands. I tried to find a job that would pay more, but unfortunately, I couldn’t. What’s left for me to do is to be grateful that I got this one, and make every tip count. What matters to me isn’t what I’ll be doing, but knowing that at the end of each day I’ll have money in hand—and with that, try to balance the household debts. In time, things will fall into place.
At least, that’s what I hope.
After what happened at Blackwell Company, I understood that I needed to get a job, no matter what kind. The debts are starting to pile up, my father is sinking deeper into the bottle, refusing to see anything beyond his pain. The money in the bank is running low, and I know that if I don’t act fast, soon we’ll be in a complicated situation.
And I refuse to let it get to that point.
That’s why, after much thought and weighing what truly matters, I decided to take this job. Working as a waitress at the small diner in Ann Arbor will help me restart my life—and my father’s. And the fact that it’s here and not in Detroit will help me cut down on gas expenses.
“You start tomorrow at 5 p.m.,” Mrs. Arlete’s voice snapped me out of my daydream.
“All right, thank you very much,” I said, feeling for the first time that I was doing the right thing.
“See you tomorrow, Scarlett. Until then.”
I said goodbye and left the diner with a huge smile on my face.
I did it!
...
When I got home, the loud sound of the television already told me what I’d see next: my father slumped in the armchair, a bottle of whiskey in hand, and his bad mood once again brought on by alcohol. I left my purse on the way to my room, where I put away my uniform and changed clothes. Then I went to him to see if he’d eaten the food I’d left on the chair beside him. My father’s been getting more stubborn every day, barely eating, and that worries me a lot. I don’t want him sick; I don’t want to lose him.
“Do you call this an hour to come home?” His drunken voice made me close my eyes for a few seconds, bracing myself for what was to come—as always. “Can I know where my whore of a daughter went?”
I knelt in front of him to pick up the beer cans scattered on the floor, along with the plate of leftover food.
He ate. I sighed in relief.
“I went to the diner that needed a waitress, and I got the job,” I said, feeling proud. Soon things at home will get better.
“A waitress?” he sneered, and I clenched my fists, not liking his tone. “I paid for your college, gave you the best of everything, and now you’re going to work as a waitress.” He laughed. “You’re completely worthless.”
I got up from the floor, determined not to listen to his cruel words. When he’s like this, I know I have to leave him talking to himself. I can’t confront my father in this state. So I go to the kitchen to make something for us to eat—and maybe by then he’ll have fallen asleep, flushing some of that alcohol out of his system.
I love my father. I love him deeply. I know things between us haven’t been great since he found out about me and the Hawthornes, but deep down inside that man, beneath all the pain and resentment, my father is still there. The loving father, the proud father, the father who would do anything to see his daughter happy. And it’s because of that man that I can’t give up. It’s because of him that I can’t turn my back during this difficult time.
It hurts to hear him call me a whore; it hurts to feel his disdain. But I know this will pass. It has to pass.
In a small corner of my mind, I think about them again. I know I shouldn’t—especially with everything going on with my father—but I can’t help remembering how my life was ten months ago. How happy I was to have them with me, my mother alive and well, my father loving and affectionate. A tear slid down my cheek, and I wiped it away as fast as I could. I won’t cry anymore. I refuse to cry. Everything happened the way it was meant to happen. Enough of thinking about a past that makes no difference to my present, even if it hurts—it’s time to let them go.
Pushing away the memories, I focus on making dinner. It doesn’t take long before a smile returns to my lips, knowing that tomorrow I start my new job.
Everything will be all right.
...
My first day at work was far from great. I dropped several glasses, messed up orders, mixed up the other waitresses’ trays… In short, my first day was a disaster. As soon as my shift ended, I locked myself in the bathroom and cried quietly, spending several minutes letting out all my frustration. When I felt I’d cried enough, I gathered my things, the few tips I’d made, and went home.
And now here I am, sitting on my bed crying again. As if a terrible first day at work weren’t enough, I had to come home and listen to my father’s cruel words. All I want is one peaceful day—a day when I can let out all this sadness and frustration that’s been killing me little by little.
Everything that’s happened in my life has been like an avalanche. Every time I think I’m ready to stand up again, a stronger one comes and knocks me down. How many more times can I get up before I finally stay down? I’m trying not to be pessimistic, but everything that’s been happening doesn’t make it easy to feel confident.
I can’t give up. I have to be the strong rock in this house. If I collapse, what will become of my father? Maybe what I really need is to go somewhere and release everything that’s been eating away at me all this time—anger, frustration, sadness, resentment, longing.
Thinking about that, I get up from the bed and look for a beautiful outfit to wear. Tonight, I’m going out to have fun, dance, and smile. Maybe spending some time with myself is exactly what I need to keep from falling apart completely. For a few hours, I’ll step away from this house, from my father, from all the sadness of these past months. Just for tonight, I’ll have fun. I’ll allow myself to be happy without thinking about anything else.
...
As soon as I walked into the nightclub, I was greeted by loud electronic music and bodies colliding with mine. I felt the adrenaline rush through my veins, screaming freedom. It’s been so long since I remembered what it felt like to feel this way. I’d been shut inside my own world for so long that I forgot how much I loved this. Back in college, one of my favorite things was going out dancing with my friends.
And tonight, I’m bringing back the old Scarlett—the fun, cheerful, uninhibited, brave, and happy one. And to start, I’m going to drink. I know exactly what I’m looking for tonight, and that’s why I made the right choice coming by taxi.
I sat down in front of the handsome bartender and ordered a drink, knowing it would be the first of many. Tonight, I just want to enjoy myself, and the only thing I ask is for the music not to stop.