Please Please Please by Renee Swindle

Author:Renee Swindle [Swindle, Renée]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-57378-0
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 1999-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

I ended up driving to the nearest coffee shop, a small place with six red booths along the window and a long counter with forest-green stools. There was an old register with those large buttons you have to push down in the front. On the wall there was a picture of the Virgin Mary and a framed one-dollar bill with a note that said WE’RE STILL HERE! taped underneath.

I sat at the counter, and after handing me a menu, my waitress said with a big smile: “You look like a beautiful bride in all that white. You look like you should be getting married today. Very pretty.” I said thank you and immediately started crying into my paper napkin. “Oh, honey,” she said, “let me get you a glass of milk,” and then she rushed off as if something to drink would magically solve all my problems. She was back in a minute with the milk and a handful of extra napkins. I had cried some until I felt her cold hand on my wrist. “Ya, ya, ya,” she said. “Everything will be okay.” I looked up over my tissue. Her name tag read Guadelupe, but from all the blond hair and fifties-style makeup, it might as well have read Cindy Sue or Mary Beth. My guess was that when she was young she probably got it in her head that she wanted to look like Marilyn Monroe and was still trying twenty years later even though she was now old and fat. Her hair was dyed a bright yellow, cut short with a flip, and she had a small light-brown mole over her lip, a beauty mark that probably turned all the boys on when they tried to tongue her in the backseat of those huge cars people drove back then.

Guadelupe made me feel comfortable though, and it felt good to have someone finally acknowledge that I was hurting. When she asked me to tell her what was wrong, I took a sip of milk and explained that it was my ex-boyfriend’s wedding day. He had broken up with me, but I still loved him. I also told her that I had gone to the church before the ceremony so we could talk. “I just saw him,” I said. “He was getting dressed. I think he’s still attracted to me. We kissed, but then he got scared.”

Guadelupe hit her hand against the counter. “I bet he still has feelings for you and now he’s going to go and marry the wrong woman.”

“I know.”

A couple walked in and she excused herself. When she returned, she poured coffee into my cup. She gave me a serious look as if while taking the couple’s order she had figured out exactly what advice to give. She poured herself a glass of milk and leaned over the counter. “I myself never had a wedding because I was married in a courthouse. I was married for thirty-eight years to my husband, Maurice, and thirty-eight years

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