Cherishing You

Chapter 1-3

ShannonWhen I finished my late shift at the Scarlet Maple, I grabbed my purse from the employee storage room in the back of the bistro and said goodbye to Jimmy, the night cook, and my boss, Penny Gerber. I pushed open the back door, and the heavy air of Texas summer sank over me.

My place was within walking distance of the restaurant, but I always drove. Double shifts waiting tables made another fifteen minutes on my feet more than I could take.

I worked six days a week most weeks, doing doubles at least three of those days. Despite the constant fatigue, I loved the growing pool of extra money.

That’s how I’d been able to move out of the aging apartment a suburb away and into the top floor of a two-level apartment building in an up-and-coming neighborhood nearby.

The move saved me a mint on gas and cut my commute from twenty minutes to two. Plus, in another year or so, the rental manager told me, it would be a fashionable address.

In another year of working extra shifts, I would also be able to start school. An art trade school brochure stayed affixed to my refrigerator as a daily reminder of my goal to study interior design.

Every morning and every night, I parked the car in the crumbled drive next to my apartment and reminded myself of where I wanted to go.

Only a dim porch light flickered in my path as I felt around in my purse for my mailbox key. I crossed my fingers that the bundle of collected mail finally had my important documents.

Swinging open the front door of the building, I sighed at my final bit of effort for the day—the flight of stairs up to my place. Somehow, I dragged my heavy legs to the door and let myself in, flicking on the light.

I plodded over to my new, garage sale couch, collapsing on it and thumbing through the mail. The awaited envelope stuck out as a beacon. It contained my new driver’s license with my new name, Shannon Clifton.

I’d been Shannon Nelson after making the mistake of marrying Kid. I’d been Shannon McConnell after getting myself pregnant and having a shotgun wedding with my ex-husband, Jeff.

Before that, I’d been Shannon Clifton, having taken the name of my last foster family. I didn’t much care about being a Clifton, but it seemed as good a choice as any if I was hitting the reset button and didn’t care to be a Nelson or a McConnell anymore.

I’d finished my probation on a d**g charge, and now I had a new job and a new name. I whooped loudly to my empty apartment and kissed my old self goodbye.