Blood Ties

When John Frost opened the door to Maxie’s Diner, he immediately took note of the cacophony of sound: the tinkling of the door bell, the clink of cutlery on plates, the sizzle of the grill, the buzzing of voices, and the chime of the cash register. It was busy, but he knew that Maxie’s was a good restaurant, and his teenage daughter loved it, so he wasn’t surprised.

The young girl at the host stand, harried and in a stained uniform, gave John a tired smile, and asked him how many would be dining tonight. John responded, “I want to place an order for takeout. Can I go to the counter for that?”

“Yes, you should be able to find a spot there. Maisy will be your server.”

“Thank you,” John made sure to say. He felt bad for her, thinking that she was probably a student in one of the city high schools, maybe even his own where he taught social studies, and he knew she was probably as busy and tired as he was.

He maneuvered carefully with his backpack through the crowd seated at close tables and found a spot at the counter next to a large, bearded man in blue work pants and a matching shirt with his name, Joel, embroidered over the left breast. The man was hunched over a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns. He had doused ketchup over the entire plate of food. John slid onto the stool next to him, pulled his backpack off, and swung it slowly down and around to sit on the floor between his feet.

He looked up and down the counter, but he didn’t see a server. John rubbed his hands over his face, then placed them on the counter in front of him, one atop the other. He thought about getting some papers out to grade but decided to wait until after he placed the order. He was tired and needed a chance to breathe a bit. The fares from his part-time job as an Uber driver were very chatty tonight, and he felt obligated to engage with them in conversation. It was exhausting, but he knew that if he were friendly with his passengers, they would tip him better. And they did. He only took a couple of fares tonight, but he had enough to pick up dinner for himself and Maddie.

“Hi. Maisy is around here somewhere. I’m sure she’ll be right back,” the bearded man suddenly spoke.

“Oh, thanks,” John replied.

“I’m Joel,” he said, sticking out his hand to shake.

“I’m John.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Same here.”

“Oh, hey, here she comes,” Joel said. John saw a middle-aged brunette walking toward him.

“Hi, hun. I’m Maisy. Need a menu?”

“No, thanks. I know what I want to order.”

“Great, what can I get you?” Maisy grabbed a pencil and notepad out of her apron pocket and prepared to write.

“I have two orders to go. I want your meatloaf, a baked potato with butter, Bacon Bits, and sour cream, and creamed corn. That’s the first order. The second order is a hamburger, medium well, lettuce and tomato on the side; crinkle cut fries, no salt; and a side of mac and cheese with extra parmesan on top. I know that sounds really picky, but my daughter wants it the way she wants it, you know?”

Maisy kept up with John, and then said, “Okay, I got it. We’ll have that right out. Do you want something to drink while you wait?”

“Sure, I’ll take a Diet Pepsi. Thank you”

Maisy stepped back from the counter, tore the top sheet off the notepad, and handed it through the window to the cook behind her. He was a tall man who had to bend down to see her. Maisy walked to the end of the counter and disappeared around a corner.

John reached down, unzipped his backpack, and pulled out a batch of papers. Reaching in further, he found a red pen. He wasn’t one of those teachers who thought red pens were a tool of the devil. They said that it looked like you were bleeding on the paper when you wrote in red. He figured that other colors would be the same; you were just bleeding in green or purple or blue instead.

Maisy came back and set a glass of soda in front of John, careful to avoid setting it on the papers. “Here you are, hun.”

“Thank you.”

John sipped from the glass, and then started reading the first paper.

“Hey, whatcha working on there?” Joel asked.

A small feeling of irritation prickled. John turned toward Joel and said, “Got a few papers to grade, that’s all. I’m a teacher.” He turned back to the stack of papers.

“Wow, a teacher. That’s cool. I’m in HVAC myself.”

“Mmm. Interesting.” John kept reading, hoping Joel would refocus on his meal.

“What do you teach?”

“Social studies.”

“Oh, these kids today don’t know anything about history or government. That must be a really hard job.”

John put his pen down and turned to face Joel. “It’s not bad actually. Kids today are better critical thinkers than we used to be. They don’t memorize facts because they can always just Google them. Now, if it’s okay, I really need to get back to these papers. I promised the kids I would have them back tomorrow.”

“Oh, sure. Sorry to interrupt.” Joel picked up a fork and continued eating.

John picked up his pen again. He started reading the first essay on the stack, and he immediately noticed that the formatting was wrong. Not a good start. As he really dug into it, he could tell the student completely misunderstood the directions. He sighed and put the paper down. He could feel the anger begin to build. He went over the directions in class several times, and this kid was notoriously bad about ignoring them in favor of playing on his phone. He put his head in his hands and sighed again. Here he was, speaking up on behalf of the kids with this yahoo next to him, and then this kid royally screws up the assignment.

“Looks like they’re not doing too well,” Joel said.

“Nope. Not this one.”

“Yeah, dumb kids, anyway.”

“Again, kids aren’t bad or dumb. It’s just one kid who can't follow directions.” John was getting more irritated, and he realized, as he tasted copper, that he had begun to bite the inside of his mouth. He did that when he was anxious, or when he was flustered, or when he was angry. And he was getting angry.

“Okay,” John said, “I really have to grade these now, so please leave me alone.”

“Geez, sorry. You don’t have to be rude about it.”

John took a deep breath. He felt the anger inside him, like a hard rock. He continued to take deep breaths for a moment, making a physical effort to tamp down the anger. It worked. He felt the rock begin to diminish and shrink. “You’re right. I apologize. I’m just really frustrated right now.”

“I gotcha. No problem. I’ll let you be.”

“Thank you.”

John returned to his papers, but now he was distracted. He tried to refocus his attention; instead, he found himself thinking about Maddie, his daughter. She was a bright girl, definitely one of those critical thinkers he mentioned to Joel. And yet, she was all emotion when she interacted with John. Just last night when he texted her good night, she accused him of thinking of her simply as a financial obligation. True, he was better about making child support payments than he was about spending time with her. He was so busy, though, working two jobs so that he could support her. It was nearly impossible to find time to focus just on Maddie. But tonight would be different. He decided to pick up just a couple of fares after school so that he could take Maddie her favorite dinner from her favorite restaurant. He thought that might help her understand how much he cared about her.

Maisy appeared before him with a bulging plastic bag. “Here you go, hun. Here’s your ticket. You pay at the front.”

“Thank you, Maisy. Have a nice night.”

“You, too, hun.”

John put his papers and red pen back in his book bag. He slung the backpack over his shoulder and picked up the plastic bag. At the register, he paid, and then he walked out. As the door closed behind him, the sounds from inside died, and he walked in peace and quiet to his car. This was going to be a great night to reconnect with Maddie.

*****

By the time John pulled up to his ex-wife’s house, his car was filled with pleasant smells of cooked meat, potatoes, and cheese. He was eager to show Maddie that he cared so much about her that he knew her favorite meal. He was certain that he would be in her good graces again by the end of the night. John walked up the sidewalk and knocked on the door. His ex-wife, Sheila, answered it.

“John, how are you,” she said stiffly, making it a statement rather than a question to which she didn’t care if she received an answer.

“I’m good. Thanks for asking, Sheila. Maddie’s home, right?”

“Yes. Come on in. I’ll call for her to come down. It looks like you have dinner for the two of you.”

“I do. Thank you.”

John stepped in and Sheila closed the door behind him. “Maddie!” she called. “Your dad’s here.”

“I brought Maxie’s!” John called out, hoping that would entice Maddie to come running. He walked down the hall, into the dining room, and began removing the meals from the plastic bag. “Sheila, can I use some silverware?”

“Of course. I’ll get it.”

Maddie clomped down the stairs and trudged into the dining room. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, Maddie. I brought your favorite,” John smiled and handed her the box with the hamburger and fries. She took it and sat down at the opposite end of the table. John looked in the bag for the mac and cheese, found a small container, and walked it over to Maddie. She took it, without making eye contact. By that time, Sheila was back with forks and knives, which she handed Maddie and John.

John brought his food to Maddie’s end of the table and sat down. Maddie opened her containers, and then looked up at John. “This isn’t my favorite.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t like sweet potato fries, and I eat mac and cheese, not potato salad.”

“What? That’s not what I ordered!”

“I’m sure,” Maddie scoffed. “You don’t know me at all, do you? And here you are, trying to buy my love with Maxie’s. Whatever, Dad.”

“No! That’s not what I’m doing! I’m trying to have a nice dinner with you and talk about how things are going. I love you, Maddie, and I want to spend time with you. It’s just so hard with two jobs, and your activity schedule.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? That’s so lame. This is just bullshit.”

Sheila yelled from the kitchen, “Maddie! Watch your language!”

“Whatever, Mom!” Maddie shouted back. “Dad, I’m not really hungry, and I have a lot of homework to do anyway. Let’s just call it a night.”

“Maddie, I really want to spend time with you,” John pleaded.

Maddie ignored him and walked out of the dining room, down the hall, and back up the stairs. Sheila came in from the kitchen. “It was a good effort, John.”

“Thanks, Sheila. She is so mad at me, and I just don’t know what to do,” John lamented.

“Keep trying, John. Don’t give up. She would never forgive you if you did that.”

“You’re right.”

Sheila led John down the hall toward the front door. “Good night, John.”

“Good night,” John said as Sheila closed the door. John stood there, staring at the door for a moment. He should have checked the boxes before he left Maxie’s. But would it have made a difference? Maddie was so sullen around him. One nice meal with her might have had little impact anyway. It wasn’t enough. John sighed and then turned to walk back to his car. He wasn’t enough, for Maddie, anyway.

What could he do? He needed both jobs to make ends meet, but he needed more time to be available for Maddie.

John opened the car door, and then stood still, thinking. Suddenly, he dropped the bag of food and walked to the rear window of the car. He stared at the Uber sticker in the window. Making up his mind, he went back to the open door, leaned in and reached for the Walmart bag on the floor of the passenger side front seat. He rummaged around and finally found what he was looking for: razor blades. Opening the package and carefully extracting one blade, he straightened up and walked to the rear window. Leaning over, he began to scrape at the sticker.

He began slowly, but the sticker was stubborn. He couldn’t get an edge started. He worked at it harder and harder, until he was frantically scraping and scraping. He began to grunt, and sweat started to bead on his forehead. John worked at it and worked at it, ignoring the blood as it ran in red lines down the car window.