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14
Charlotte, North Carolina
Fifteen and a Half Years Ago
Birdie openedthe front door of her apartment, toed off her shoes one by one, and sank into the oversized sofa she purchased at the Goodwill in uptown Charlotte.
Twenty minutes prior, she had finished her shift at the Munch Box Diner and had the night off.
In her new city and new home.
And more importantly, alone and in complete and utter silence.
No sister with a shit ton of attitude or her sister’s loser of a boyfriend, who spent more time trimming his nineteen eighties mustache than looking for a job.
For the first time in her life, she had no one to depend on or to look out for other than herself.
Heaven.
After leaving the apartment and her woes behind in Myrtle Beach, she checked into a run-down motel on the outskirts of town, hired a towing company to move her parents’ car to a nearby repair shop, and had the slashed tires repaired. Luckily, three of the four tires were slashed on the tread which made it repairable so she only had to pay for one used tire that she was able to run down at a used tire store nearby.
She never even knew used tire stores existed.
Lucky for her and her pocketbook, they did. A week later, she was tooling down the road, heading north and eager for a new start.
And what a wonderful new start it was.
Months after leaving Myrtle Beach and shooting Maisie and her creepy boyfriend the virtual middle finger, she was on her own, paying her bills, and the most recent hire at The Avondale. An exclusive restaurant for select customers who considered large tips a charitable contribution and status symbol.
The owner had interviewed her himself. She took the time to get dressed up, show him she could be classy with some clothes she’d bought from a nearby secondhand thrift shop, and then dazzled him and the head chef with her ability to appear demure and accommodating.
An hour after her interview, she was back in her diner uniform with a new job and, if the owner wasn’t pulling her leg, the potential of earning three times the tips.
She was right.
Things were definitely looking up.
She had heard nothing from Maisie. Tried calling her a few times once she had made it to Charlotte, but her stubborn love-drunk sister never called back.
Probably a good thing.
Life sure was nice when you were only responsible for yourself and your own decisions.
Granted, she didn’t have a TV or any sort of device connected to the internet, except for her phone. The apartment hadn’t been furnished like the last one. The first couple of weeks, she’d slept on a blow-up raft and some scratchy sheets she’d bought at the local thrift store. Then she splurged on the sofa which she couldn’t afford, but couldn’t walk away from. Now she slept on it every night.
Slowly, she’d be able to afford a table and chairs.
Life was good.
As she was about to open the Styrofoam container of food from the diner, her phone began to vibrate.
Glancing at the screen and assuming someone was overly concerned about the warranty of a car she didn’t own, she noticed her sister’s name on the screen.
No.
Not now.
Not when she was getting her life together and slowly making something of herself.
