You and Jennie Bee sit outside at Lupita's

"Mexican," Jennie says. "I like me some coffee in the morning, and some pie at night, but for lunch you can't beat tacos. Ma'am," she adds respectfully. "Can we sit outside? I'm a little sweaty."

"Wherever you please, Jennie. Nothing wrong with honest sweat. And do call me Mary, I'm a working girl myself. A working woman. Like you." Sarah would chew your ears off of she heard her mother calling herself a girl.

You get a taco salad and a sweet tea. Jennie gets a big plate of tacos and the biggest fountain cola, half plain soda. You settle
Jennie is halfway through a plate of tacos, juice dribbling from her chin, when she looks up and gets a thoughtful expression.

"You a union organizer, Mary?" she asks. "Or a reporter? I mean, why'd you take me to lunch?"

"Oh, hon, no, I'm a waitress. At the Atomic Truckstop. I recommend the pie."

Jennie looks a little puzzled. "You recruiting ladies for your church or something?" She tilts her head and frowns. "Or a girlie picture thing?" Her frown changes to a smile, and she laughs. "I kind of did that. Lost a bet to my sister, had to be in the volunteer firefighters calendar showing skin and pretending I was on her squad."

"Oh, that's precious," you say. "At least it was a good cause! No, hon, I liked you when I met you a couple days ago and wanted to be sociable."

Jennie smiles. 'That's sweet of you," she says.

"Do you still have any of those calendars?"

"Haha, no, Mary, it showed practically my whole butt, they sold out the whole printing and I wasn't gonna keep one. Who would think I was actually pretty? From that picture? It's not like I have no butt, it's that my butt is, you know, square? Not like my sister's. She could be a swimsuit model."

Brian would, especially from that picture.

"Jennie hon, why would you ever worry that any part of you isn't pretty? And why would it matter in your life?"

Jennie sighs. "I always feel like I'm in my sister's shadow. She's smart, pretty, and popular. Me? I'm not even brave"

"If you stayed out working in a lightning storm, seems braver than I've ever been. Standing out in the road all day telling drivers what they can and can't do. Braver than me. Now what's really the matter, hon?"

You reach across the table with an open hand. Jennie Bee takes it and clasps your hand on hers.

"Not here," she whispers.

"I'll take you someplace quiet, hon. Unless you need more time."

"No, let's go."

You find a shady lane that dead-ends at a landslip.

Jennie looks unhappy and her lips are working like there's something sad about to find a voice.

You sit, listening to Jennie's uneven breaths.

"Mary, I," she starts. "Ah." She takes a breath. "I..."