The Johnstown Girls

Chapter 2. Sunday, April 16, 1989

29 T H E J O H N S T O W N G I R L S ■ “Aha, there you are!” her mother says, throwing open the screen door. “I got up early, I was so excited.” Right now it’s only eight. Through kisses and hugs her mother asks, “Where’s your ride? Where did he go so fast?” “Left me on the street. He has work.” “And he’ll be back for you?” “Yes. I don’t know the exact time, but I gave him your phone number. He’ll probably call before he comes by.” “It’s such a short visit!” “Better than no visit, right?” “Yes, yes, I don’t want to be a complainer. I’m ready to make breakfast .” This morning at seven Nina let Ben go out for donuts and coffee and when he came back, she only ate one-half of a donut, rightly expecting her mother to want to cook. “Eggs and bacon?” “Sure. I thought you were going to say cake.” On the counter is a big, gorgeous cake with chocolate icing. “What kind is it?” “Triple Hazelnut.” Nina groans. “Can I take a piece with me?” “You can take several pieces. Give one to that guy who drove you as a thank-you.” Sunday, April 16, 1989 30 K AT H L E E N G E O R G E “I will. If I can stand to give it up.” The house is as it always was. The kitchen has not been expanded, the appliances have not been updated, the single bathroom has the old pedestal sink and tiles. Her mother insists she is totally comfortable and wants to save money rather than spending it, to be able to give it to her only child. “I have no need for your money,” Nina has told her, which is quite a lie. It sure would be nice to wipe out those school loans to ease her new life with Ben when it happens. But surely her mother will retire one day and will need that little pocket of money, just for bread and milk and lipstick. The small square kitchen table is already set for breakfast. “Sit,” her mum says, “Tell me things.” “Nothing much to tell. I work, I go home, I sleep.” “Work is okay?” “It’s fine. I’m still getting, you know, general assignment stuff. Last week there was a guy with a gun in a house, nobody knew who else was in there, police came, there was a standoff, everybody being careful not to rile the guy, and the standoff took forever. Seven hours. My feet were killing me. Turned out he was kind of nuts. There was nobody in the house with him. I had to make a story out of that.” “Suicidal?” “Maybe except the gun wasn’t loaded.” “It sounds interesting to me.” “Well it was, but I didn’t get to write the interesting part—like why he was messed up and what was going through his head, how much of it was showmanship with that unloaded gun and all. I’m supposed to get the facts and make them readable, that’s all. And I did.” The bacon begins to crackle. Her mother puts bread in the toaster and opens the carton of eggs. “Will you stick with it?” “I’m giving it two years. To see if I get moved up to features. If not, I might not stick.” “Two years—anything can happen. Please don’t meet someone who wants to take you to live in California.” Punctuated by a smooth crack of an egg on the side of the skillet. “Not likely.” 31 T H E J O H N S T O W N G I R L S “No, if he’s a good guy, go to California.” Another egg cracks perfectly . “I’ll adapt.” “I’d have you flying out there every two weeks.” “Or vice versa.” Soon they are eating breakfast and talking about other things—the good-hearted neighbor who mows her mother’s lawn. The toast dipped in egg is delicious. She wishes this breakfast for Ben. “You were hungry, starting out so early.” “I was,” Nina says. Nina knew to wear a nice dress and flats this morning. Yesterday’s clothes are in her overnight case in Ben’s car. Soon her mother will mention church...