Page 193 of Finding Us

“Can I get you something? The smoothies here are really good. We make them with fresh fruit.”

It’s hot out today and an icy cold smoothie does sound good. “Okay, I’ll have a smoothie.”

“What kind would you like? We have lots of different ones. I’ll get you a menu.”

“Just pick whatever’s good.”

“They’re $4. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

She smiles, then takes off for the kitchen. Finally, someone who’s friendly. I know she’s just doing her job, being nice to a customer, but I still appreciate the friendly greeting.

A few minutes later, she comes back with the smoothie. “This one has blueberries, bananas, strawberries, and vanilla frozen yogurt. It’s my favorite, but if you don’t like it I’ll make you a different one.”

I taste it. “It’s really good. Thanks!”

“Do you want anything to eat? We’re done serving lunch for today but we have pastries or pie.”

“No, thanks. The smoothie is enough.”

“Just let me know if you need anything.”

She leaves, then comes back with a rag and a spray bottle and begins wiping down the tables next to me. She’s fast, yet thorough. She even wipes down the chairs.

“Do you go to school at Camsburg?” I ask her.

“No.” She laughs.

I’m not sure why that’s funny. Maybe she’s still in high school. She has a young-looking face and she’s so small.

“Are you in high school?” As I ask it, I realize that if she was, she’d be in school right now.

“High school?” She laughs again. At least she’s not insulted. “I’m 21, almost 22. Do I really look like I’m in high school?”

“Kind of. Actually, yeah, you do. You look really young.”

“Well, that’s good I guess. It’s better than looking old.” She spritzes cleaning solution on the tall table across from me. “I’m guessing you go to Camsburg?”

“Yeah, I transferred here from another college. I’m a sophomore.”

“How do you like it?”

“I haven’t found the students to be very friendly. I guess I shouldn’t say that because I really haven’t met many of them yet.”

“They’re all like that. They’re either popular and cliquey or they’re academics who want to be left alone. At least that’s what I’ve decided after watching them in here the past year.” She sets her spray bottle down and extends her hand. “I’m Sara, by the way.”

“I’m Jade.” We shake hands. “So you’ve worked here a year?”

“Yeah. I’m trying to find other work but there aren’t many jobs in this town and I need a flexible schedule.”

“Because of college? Where do you go?”

“I’m not in college. I have a kid.”

“Oh.” I didn’t expect her to say that. I’m flustered, which means stupid things are about to come out of my mouth. “What kind? I mean, a boy or a girl?”

She smiles. “What kind? That’s funny. I have the crying, diaper-wearing, constantly-needs-to-be-fed kind. A boy. His name is Caleb. He’s six months old.”

---