Crystal Ball

Dottie and my dad ended up joining Janie and me for lunch. As promised, I took my daughter to Gillman’s, which in my eyes was far better than Mickey D’s. I think Janie believed so, too, because she had not stopped smiling and laughing since we stepped in the door.

Gillman’s Family Restaurant was a local establishment, built by an aging couple that wanted to provide a safe, fun, family eating environment. Along with providing all the family-friendly favorites of pizza, burgers and hot dogs, they had a slew of arcade games, an indoor and outdoor playground and an outdoor stage where live music was played weekly.

I tried not to think of the many times I had spent at that very spot as a teenager, and instead searched the playground for a head of brown ringlets. Janie was currently running around the perimeter of the sand box, a boy around her age on her heels.

“So, Emma?” Dottie started, gathering my attention. “How have you been?”

“I’m doing good. I finished high school on time,” I commented, a proud smile on my face. “And I got a job working at a local club so I could support Janie and myself without constantly relying on my grandparents, or dad.”

“That sounds wonderful, dear. Are you in town long?” she asked curiously.

I faltered for a moment, not able to keep my smile in place. “I actually moved back. I leased an apartment downtown. Honestly, I just wanted to give Janie a chance to know Dad and Justin.”

“Well, I know they’re happy to have you back. Your father missed you terribly.” My eyes instinctively found my dad’s eyes as he pretended not to be listening to our conversation, and I smiled slightly. “And I know everyone else will be too, when the find out you’re home.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I said under my breath as I looked to the playground, finding Janie easily.

“Well, I am. I know your dad and Justin are not the only ones who missed you. Robert and I missed you, too, and Alex and the boys. You were one loved girl, missy.”

I smiled ruefully. “How is Pops?” I asked, ignoring the latter end of her list.

“He’s good. He has been working overtime a lot lately. I feel like I barely see him. You should stop by and say hi.”

“I will,” I promised, though under the table, my fingers were crossed as I hoped that when I got around to it, a certain twenty-one year-old boy would not make an appearance as he had earlier in the day.

Just then, Janie bound over to us, a smile spread across her tiny face. “Momma? Can we get dessert?” she asked, batting her long eye lashes unknowingly—an action that reminded me of my past.

“How about we get you cleaned up? And then we’ll get an ice cream on our way home?”

“Okay!” she nodded desperately.