A/N: So, Souless666 mentioned in a review of Tuesday's Child (an ongoing story I am writing), that they wished they knew what happened to my OC, Ellie, who had a cameo at the end of Chapter Four. They are a pretty regular reader and reviewer, so I felt like they deserved a look behind the scenes, so to speak. If you have not read "Tuesday's Child", you will want to read that first, at least as far as chapter four, or this one-shot will not make any sense.
Reviews are love!
As Always,
EverReader
Disclaimer: This is actually almost all mine, for once. Almost.
"A Space Shaped Like Home-" a tag to "Tuesday's Child"
Ellie counted towns on the long bus ride through the night.
She felt ridiculous for doing it, but she did it anyway. The third town was small, barely large enough to warrant a bus stop and for a moment she worried she was making a terrible mistake by not riding on to Tampa or some other, larger city.
But the intensity in the young man's eyes when he'd issued his instructions still haunted her, and she found her feet moving of their own volition as she got off the bus in Aurora, Florida. Striking out for what she guessed to be 'downtown', she watched as the sun finished rising over the picturesque town.
Remembering the strange instructions she had been given, she stopped an older lady, dressed in jogging clothes who was walking her dog in the early morning chill.
"Excuse me," Ellie said politely, "But can you recommend a good place to get some breakfast?"
The other woman eyed her for a moment, but she answered kindly enough. "Well, honey, I can tell you the only place in this town to get some breakfast. Your looking for the Lucky Day Cafe."
Well, Ellie thought to herself, at least that sounded promising.
"Can you tell me how to get there?" She asked.
The woman nodded. "Well, you're already half way there, dear. Just continue on down this road, take the first right, and then look for the corner where Second Street intersects with Chance Street."
"The corner of Second and Chance?" Ellie asked incredulously, "You're kidding, right?"
The woman laughed. "I know, it sounds like the setting of some cheesy movie, and Lord knows, Margaret, she's the owner, has enough fun with the address, but the food is decent and the coffee is hot."
Well, Ellie thought, in for a penny, in for a pound. She thanked the lady and continued walking, following the woman's directions until she came to a small restaurant. The neat sign proudly proclaimed it the be the Lucky Day Cafe. Sure enough, the diner was, in fact, located at the corner of Second and Chance.
"Okay, okay. I get it, I'm going." She said out loud to the empty air, then, chuckling at her own whimsy, she went inside and ordered breakfast.
The food was good, and the coffee was hot, but unfortunately, the proprietor, Margaret, appeared to be the only waitress on duty that morning, and she was being run off her feet.
When she finally made her way back to Ellie's table, she asked her if she'd like a second cup of coffee, and Ellie answered with a decisive "Yes, please!" That brought a smile to the older woman's face.
Then Ellie settled in and waited.
Eventually, the morning rush began to die down, and soon Ellie was the only one left beside Margaret and the cook. Just as Ellie was beginning to think she would need to pay her check and move on, an elderly lady let herself in. She had to be in her early seventies, with neatly permed white hair and dainty pearl earrings.
She had a slight limp and walked with a cane, but she a wry smile on her face as she greeted Margaret.
"Good morning, Margaret." The woman greeted Ellie's waitress. "I see Susie has left you in the lurch again, that imp." She shook her head, "I'm more glad than ever I decided against renting her the attic apartment."
Margaret sighed. "It's worse than you know, Lenore. That fool girl's run off to Tampa to make music videos or something like that, and Sara's baby sitter isn't free until the evening. And Aurora isn't exactly teeming with girls lining up to wait tables."
Ellie felt her mouth go dry, as her heart began to pound.
Now, Ellie, now, she thought to herself.
"I need a job!" She blurted out, then blushed furiously. "Uh, I'm sorry, really, I didn't mean to eavesdrop..." She trailed off awkwardly.
Margaret was studying her appraisingly. "Hon, you ever wait tables before?"
Ellie swallowed. "No, but I'm a quick learner." She said determinedly.
Margaret chewed her lip for a moment, before saying "Heck, well, why not?" Then she added, "But honey, your obviously not from around here. Where are you staying?"
Ellie deflated as she thought about the sixty dollars she had left in her pocket. The guy had told her to rent an apartment with the money she had left, but who was going to rent her an apartment for-
"Sixty dollars!" Lenore said suddenly, and Ellie stared at her, wide eyed as gooseflesh broke out on her arms.
"I...beg your pardon?" She asked finally.
Lenore chuckled. "Sorry dear, I didn't mean to startle you. I was just thinking aloud. I have an old house, you see, honestly it's too big for me, especially the attic, with this bum leg of mine. My husband remodeled the attic into an efficiency apartment right before he died. I used to take in borders, but no one's been interested in it the last year or so. I normally charge $120.00 dollars a month, but as the month is half over already, you and I could give things a test run for-"
"Sixty dollars." Ellie finished for her, grinning.
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Ellie had been in Aurora for about three years when the drifter came into the restaurant one night, looking thin and haggard, asking about work in the area.
Ellie had took over managing the restaurant a little over a year before, when Margaret had been forced to semi-retire do to a mild stroke.
Ellie took a chance, offering him the dishwasher position on the spot (the job, coincidentally, had just opened up that morning, funny things like that had a habit of happening in Aurora, she had learned.)
They were married that spring, and their daughter was born two years later. They named her Magdalena Margaret, but they called her Maggie.
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Sixteen years later, Maggie would look up from the well worn copy of her favorite book as a sleek black Impala pulled into the Cafe's parking lot.
Two men who appeared to be in their late forties climbed out, one in a denim jacket, and the other, taller man in a plaid button up shirt.
"No. Way." She whispered, glancing down at the book, and then up again at the men as they entered.
The car was right, and they weren't exactly common anymore.
And when she seated the men, she noticed that the shorter man had ice green eyes, while the taller man, with his shaggy hair, had intelligent looking hazel eyes.
At one point, she was sure those same hazel eyes had winked at her, but she couldn't be sure.
Finally, as the men were leaving, she took a gamble.
"She paid it forward, you know." She said.
"A couple of years ago, this college kid named Casey came through. He was trying to make it back for his Mom's birthday, but he'd been mugged, and he didn't have the money for a bus ticket, so Mom bought it for him. It cost $110.00."
Maggie still remembered it clearly, remembered her shock and awe when she had run across the old book only a few weeks later at a yard sale.
The book that had been published right before she was born, by a man named Carver Edlund, and it told a story about two brothers, and how one had once helped a woman named Ellie.
She showed the book to her Mom, and Ellie had spent the next two days reading through it furiously, but she'd never speak about it with Maggie. When Maggie would ask, she'd simply say there was no use looking backward, because they weren't headed that way anyhow.
For a moment she was afraid the taller man wouldn't reply, would, in fact, think she was crazy.
But then he smiled, showing dimples that made him look years younger. "I never doubted her."
They left then, while Maggie stood, flabbergasted in the cafe doorway.
Another surprise awaited her when she went to clear their table.
They had left a more than generous tip.
Folded inside a napkin, she found $110.00, and across the napkin was scribbled two words.
"Your Turn."