'My Story', by Claire Weiner

“It’s dark when I unlock the door, flip switches, get the coffee
brewing. Pretty soon the place is lit up like my cousin Helen’s
Christmas tree. In this little strip mall, right off Exit 58, Mark’s
Coney Island is almost open for business. I’ve been getting things
going for longer than I’d like to say. The copy shop & pet store don’t
open until 8:00, the nail place & take-out pizza until 11:00. But the
Coney opens with the roosters and I’m awake before the damn birds.

”If my cook Luke, is late, I’m popping toast, frying eggs and waiting
tables. Lord knows, I’ve done my share of short ordering—coming
home smelling like a deep fryer. But I’m too old for that now. Waiting
tables, I get to talk to customers, especially my regulars. Night shifters
are here soon as I flip the Open sign. Then come moms in yoga pants.
Cops dash in and out all morning. Retirees wander in, with folded
newspapers for company. When I don’t see Sue for a few days, I worry.
She had a shiner a few weeks back. She told me a story about bumping
into a door, but I’m sure it was her no-good husband. She needs to find
her backbone. I told her she can stay with me. “No questions asked.”
But believe me, I know it’s hard to make the break. Last year we lost
Gene, (two over easy, rye toast dry, coffee black). That was real sad. I
knew him since high school, back when we thought life would be, well,
different. But then he went to Nam, and I got together with Tom, lost the
baby, lost Tom, and well, here I am. Still.

“You know, it’s kind of amazing. Somedays, I wonder how it all went by so
fast. I guess in some ways, I got lucky. Shirley and Phil were decent bosses
and now their kids are nice to work for too. Days off, insurance. They even
came to see me when I had my operation. And then I got disability for a while.
Today, I’ll work through lunch, go home, take a long, hot bath, pop a Healthy
Choice in the microwave, catch up on my soaps.

“Last Easter, when my great-niece, Gracie, who I’m real close to asked me,
’Auntie Rae, how much longer can you do this?’ I snapped, but she started
me thinking. I mean, how much longer can my legs do this? Gracie and her
husband Jim, offered me a place up north, the one-bedroom cottage behind
their lake house. It’s tucked under the pines. I’d only pay heat & water. That’s
real generous of them. Truth is, though, I’ve always dreamed of a little place
under the palms…

Claire Weiner’s work has been published in After Hours Press, Burningwood Literary Review, Michigan Jewish History Society, Pennisula Poets and others. She spent her non-writing career as a clinical social worker helping people make more sense of their life stories. She splits her time between Ann Arbor, and Tucson grateful to be in both places. Her chapbook, For a Chance to Walk on Streets of Gold, was published by Finishing Line Press in spring 2024