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Daddy sometimes tried to tell her she was expected to come home every day after school, but she never minded him; he was always too drunk to carry through whatever threat he issued. Daddy doted on Charly, so I had my doubts he'd ever discipline her anyway. He saved all that for me. Hence, the reason I was in such a hurry to try to have dinner ready when he stumbled through the door.
Today was payday, so he'd no doubt stopped off to drink some of his earnings before coming home. Counting on that, I'd stayed late at school getting some extra help on a science project with my favorite teacher, Mrs. Kissinger. She always smelled so good and was so kind to me. Anytime I imagined my mother, she was a lot like my teacher. Except now, Mrs. Kissinger was going to leave to get married to some lawyer guy. Time went so fast, I didn't notice how late it had gotten until I saw the long shadows on the school desks.
Now, I had to hurry to make sure we had something to eat. Even though we'd had spaghetti two nights ago, it was the fastest thing I could get ready. Choices were limited, since the cabinets and refrigerator were almost empty. I needed Daddy to go shopping for more food. I hoped Trigger remembered his promise to me.
I had been scared, but last week I'd snuck into the bar I knew my daddy usually went to. It was dark and smelled like stinky cigarettes. Sunlight tried it's best to shine through the dirty windows, but it mostly only looked like a dim light bulb. A few fluorescent signs with the names of beer were the only other lights that time of day. Thank goodness, it was mostly empty; the shift at the lumber yards wouldn’t happen for almost another hour.
"Are you lost, little lady?" a deep voice boomed. I looked up to see a huge man standing behind the bar wiping a glass. He wore a blue denim shirt covered by a leather vest with a few pins stuck on it. I thought it was kind of funny since I thought only girls wore pins. He had a gray beard that I had a feeling matched his hair, but I couldn't tell because a red bandana covered his head.
My knees were knocking, but I forced myself to speak with my best manners. "May I please speak to the owner?"
His eyes widened, but he nodded and came around from behind the bar. He was probably twice my height, so he squatted in front of me. "M'name's Trigger, and I run this joint. What can I do for you? You're too short to buy a beer."
I hated being reminded of my size. It wasn’t my fault. I crossed my arms. "My teacher says good things come in small packages. Besides, beer's yucky."
His lip twitched. I hoped that was a good thing. "Well, your teacher is smart, and you're a right pretty little package. And how do you already know beer is yucky? Wait, never mind. I’m not sure I really wanna know. Now, what can I do for you, little lady?"
I stood up as tall as I could and said in my most grown-up voice, "My father is Jacob Stone, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't let him buy more than one or two beers when he's here." I was proud of delivering the words I'd practiced in my head over and over.
He scratched his chin. "You're ole' Jacob's girl, huh?"
I nodded.
"Any particular reason I shouldn't sell him more? This is a business you know. That's how I make money." His words weren't mean, but he did sound like I should have a good reason, the way Ms. Kissinger sometimes sounded when kids got in trouble in class.
My face fell. This wasn’t how I thought it would go when I practiced this in my mind. I had imagined the owner being so impressed by my maturity that he'd immediately do what I’d asked. I thought fast and decided the truth was always the right answer. "Well, Mr. Trigger, you see, I need the money to buy some food." I was so embarrassed he had to lean close to hear me.
I started to squirm when he remained quiet. I was about to turn and run out when he finally grunted something under his breath. It sounded like a slew of curse words, some I knew and some I didn't. I made a mental note to ask Charly what ‘cock-sucking’ meant.
His fingers stroked his beard like he was thinking. "Well, lil’ lady. I'm glad you happened to come in. You see, ole Jacob, he’s pretty regular-like, so I was going to wait 'til tonight to give him somethin', but since you're here now, I reckon it’d be easier for me to give it to you now, ‘for it gets too busy and I forgit."
He straightened up and got something from the cash register and came back to stand before me. "Ya see, when your daddy paid his bill last night, he didn't stick around long enough for me to give him his change. Now, you'd be doin' me a mighty big favor if you'd just take this." He handed me two twenty-dollar bills.
My eyes widened as I took them from his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Trigger. I'll make sure to give it to him."
He shook his head. "Well now, your daddy, he mentioned to me last night that he was gonna to the grocery store after he left, but, well, I bet he couldn't 'cause he left his change here, ya see?"
I slowly nodded. "So this is the grocery money?"
Trigger looked relieved. "That's right, lil' lady. Why don't you go on down and buy what your Daddy would have gotten you last night. You'll be savin' him the trip, ya see?"
I nodded. "I'll go right now." My stomach growled right on cue, relieved it wouldn't have to go hungry that night. And I'd done as I promised, buying the same kinds of food that I knew how to cook: pasta, sauce, soup, peanut butter, crackers, milk, and bread. There usually wasn’t any money for extras like cookies or anything.
But now, most of that food was already gone. Hopefully, Daddy remembered to pay the power bill so I could use the rest of his pay to buy more food.
I hurried to clean up the spaghetti sauce jar and box. Our trailer wasn't fancy, but I did my best to keep it straightened up.
The front door opened, and my father stomped in, Charly right on his heels. He greeted me with an angry stare and a greeting of, "What's for dinner, girl. I'm hungry. Damn Trigger wouldn't let me have another drink." He yanked a chair out from the table, grumbling, "Like my money isn't good enough."
My relief that Trigger had kept his word was quickly replaced with worry. Usually, when Daddy came home, he was more mellow, thanks to a few drinks. But apparently only two wasn't enough, and now he was pissed off. Even Charly moved carefully around him.
I quickly scooped a pile of spaghetti on a plate and topped it with sauce and placed it in front of him. "Here you go, Daddy."
He stared at the simple meal in front of him. "What the hell is this? Didn't we just have this shit a coup
le of nights ago?"
"I'm sorry, Daddy. The only other thing we have is soup, and we had that last night. I thought you'd like this better."
