Page 19 of Beyond The Maples
"Tough day?" I say, startling Marta.
The handkerchief she has secured to her head bounces straight up, as does the rest of her. She curses vigorously at me.
"What's yer problem? Ya tryin' te kill me?" She scowls, but then chuckles. She can't stay mad for long. She scans my face and cocks her head slightly. She may be feisty, but not much gets past her.
"What's up?" she says, a little concern lacing her tone.
"Everything is ok, but I'm so sorry to do this to you. I'm leaving." I hesitate, and then decide that Chef isn't the one for gentle goodbyes or careful words. "I enlisted, and I leave tomorrow."
She sighs, blowing out the handkerchief that keeps flopping down along with the grey hair out of her face, letting out a low whistle.
"Why?" is all she asks.
"Willow's medication has tripled in cost... I have no other choice. I'm sorry."
I twist my skirt in my hands anxiously, my hands blending into the rough beige linen. I hadn't thought I'd get emotional. I don't love this job, but Marta has been a constant for me. Her gruff, honest ways greeting me every day since I was a teenager doing dishes here. You never realize what people mean to you until it's too late.
I almost gasp as emotion overtakes Marta's beautifully wrinkled face, and she waddles over and pulls me in for a giant hug.
"I'm sorry," she whispers in my ear.
"It isn't your fault," I respond, with glassy eyes.
"Ye, but it's not somethin' ye shouldhaveto do. I understand though. If there's anythin' I can do ye let me know, ya?" she says, pulling me back and holding me out with her arms.
"Well, actually, I was hoping you'd check in on Willow and Linden for me. I'm sure they will be fine, but they've never been on their own without me, and they could probably use a stern talking to every once in a while."
I chuckle as I say this, imagining how flustered Linden would get if he ever got into trouble with Marta.
"O'course! I'd be happy to!" She nods sincerely. I walk towards the kitchen door and pause, my knuckle tapping on the old worn wooden frame.
"Thank you. I really appreciate it. And everything you've done since I started here. Really, I mean it." The bridge of my nose tingles as I hold back tears.
"Any time, kid, I mean it. Ye write any time, if ye need anythin'."
She smiles at me, throws the towel she had been holding over her shoulder, and turns back to work. I think that's about as good as an "I love you" from her.
I walk towards the main doors, and I see Giles slithering through the crowd towards me.
"Treow, where do you think you're going?"
I can't help but recoil at his slippery voice. He is a walking, talking wet blanket. I straighten, slipping on a confident mask.
"Oh good, you're here. I actually have to talk to you."
I lead him to the nook on the other side of the door, so at least if he yells it will be away from the customers slowly trickling in. He grins.
"And what do we have to chat about today, Maple?"
I take a deep breath.
"I have some bad news. My personal situation has changed drastically, and I have to give my immediate notice. I enlisted. I leave tomorrow."
I wait for the explosion, the threats, but he just blinks at me blankly. Slowly, a twisted smile forms on his cruel mouth.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear you'd rather sling a weapon than join me in my chambers, but maybe our paths will cross again. Good luck."
I stand there, dumbfounded, watching him walk away. Like I was no more than a speck of dirt on his shoe. Like he hadn't been obsessively pursuing me foryears. That was unexpected. It was like the fun of the game just ended for him as soon as he knew I was leaving. I turn, and all the air is heaved out of my lungs at the figure looming in the entrance.
