I was thinking about names and what they mean, the other day. Just what is in a name. Names are important, how does a name influence people?

Warning, there is some sexual innuendo and mild cursing in this story.

Growing Up Fern

The money was spread out on a towel draped on an overturned crate. The chair teetered as she sat back with a sigh. Just twelve friggin’ dollars in tips for the whole morning.  She took a drag on her cigarette, glaring at the pitiful pile. Tossing the butt, she scooped the money up and shoved it into her jeans pocket under her apron.

What a joke. Three-fifty an hour wage and another two dollars an hour in tips. She lit another cigarette. Christ, the rent’s due this week. How’m I supposed to make a living on five bucks an hour?

Her boss yelled through the open back door of the diner. “Fern, get your lazy ass in here. Customers comin’ in.”

“Yeah, yeah, Tony. Keep yer pants on,” she yelled back.

She leaned back against the wall of the diner, careful not to rock the broken chair. Her face to the late morning summer sun, she let her cigarette smolder between her fingers. What the hell happened? I was smart in high school, book smart anyway, she corrected herself as she thought about her six-year old daughter, Elizabeth. Smarter than most. How come I’m barely scrapin’ by and they’re all makin’ the big bucks?

Tony stuck his head out the door, “Fern! Customers!”

She took a last drag on her smoke and got up, crushing the butt on the alley pavement. “I’m comin’.”

She washed her hands before going into the front of the house. Pasting on a smile she grabbed some menus and approached the table where three guys in short sleeved white dress shirts and ties were sitting.

“Mornin’ guys, coffee?” She passed the menus around and took her order book out. They came in this time every day and always ordered the same thing.

“Hey there, Fern, lookin’ good,” he leered. Coffee for everybody.”

She smiled back, “How’s your dad, Mark?” Mark was dumb as a box of rocks but he managed to graduate from college with a degree in business and was taking over his father’s car dealership. Even managed to bring home a wife.

“He’s better, comes into the office twice a week.” He closed up the menu, “I’ll have the same, two eggs over easy, hash browns, sausage.”

“White toast?”

“Yeah. Heard from Brandon lately?” He smirked at his tablemates. They all laughed. They weren’t from here, so she didn’t pay them any mind. But the dig about her old boyfriend stung.

“Brandon’s out in L.A. working for some solar company. Your mom plays Bunko with his mom every week, you should know that.”

He shrugged; winking at his crew.

She looked at the two other car salesmen. “You boys want your regular orders?”

They nodded.

“OK, coffee’s out in minute. I’ll put your orders in.”

She picked up the menus and hustled into the kitchen. Ripping the order sheet from her book she stuck it into the cook’s rack, and went out to pour the coffees. She fumed, Stupid ass, rubbing it in. I don’t know how he managed to hook a wife. What’s she see in him?

Taking the coffees to the table, Mark started in again. “How’s your parents?”

Her mind flashed to her parents, driving off in the old conversion van. “They’re fine. Out in Oregon.”

“Good, good,” he grinned.

She went back to the kitchen. Her parents were hippies; there was no other way to describe it. That’s why her name was Fern. They had lived on a now defunct commune outside of town until the year after she graduated high school. Her mother helped her through that first rough year. They set her up as best they could and took off, to a new commune outside of Eugene. She shook her head. It wasn’t their fault she and Brandon hooked up. He had the grace to man up, she got a child support check every month, but still. It wasn’t enough.

“Order up!”

She picked up a tray and the orders from the window. Maybe it’s my name. Everyone else has normal names, but Fern is so…hippie.

Setting the plates on the table she asked, “Anything else I can getcha?”

They all shook their heads as they reached for salt, pepper and catsup. “Nah, we’re good.”

Taking the tray back to the waitress stand she wondered. Maybe it IS my name, why the hell else am I’m stuck waiting tables? She scrunched her toes up in her sneakers. Her feet hurt and when she left here at 3:30 this afternoon, she had to go over to the hotel and cocktail waitress until 11pm. Serving drinks got better tips than serving in a diner but it was a race every month between her and the bills.

As she made a fresh pot of coffee, she overheard the guys talking about the local college’s business classes. The older salesman’s son was thinking of going. She had wanted to go to college but she was pregnant at her high school graduation. There was no way she could swing it with a baby in tow.

“Yeah, the damn government gives away scholarships,” she heard Mark say. “My parents had to pay the full ride, why should other people get government hand outs.”

If you weren’t so stupid, you could have had a scholarship, she thought as she started the dishwasher.

As Mark ranted she wondered, What if I could get some help? I could take business classes. Hell, I do Tony’s books now!

She filled out the check and took it to Mark. “Here you go boys. I’ll take it at the register.”

Mark smirked, “I’ll bet you will.” The three men roared, Fern shook her head as she left.

Ass. If he can run a business, I sure as hell can. She pulled the phone book out and wrote down the admissions office number for the college. Closing the phone book, she tucked the number into her jeans pocket and smiled as Mark came up to the register.

The End

997 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here:http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html