Jameson's eyes slowly peeled open in the late afternoon. Working until 2 AM is tiring. She reached over and grabbed the new pack of cigarettes from the bedside table. Pulling the plastic tab she slide the wrapping off. Holding it in her hand, smacking it several times on her opposite palm, packing the tobacco into their cylinders before she opened it. Sliding one in her mouth and lighting it, laying her head back and inhaled deeply. Jameson lay there watching the sunlight dance over the ceiling of her apartment. Even though she'd been living in the shithole for a few years, she still hadn't bought curtains. The sheet she tacked up the first night was still hanging lopsidedly over the bedroom window. It didn't keep much light out at all but Jameson didn't mind.
Rolling out of bed, Jameson made her way into the bathroom. Sitting down, still smoking her cig, she used the bathroom and then made her way into the kitchen. She made coffee but realized there wasn't much to eat. She sat at the flimsy kitchen table in one of the two metal folding chairs and slowly drank her coffee. The apartment was run down but clean. In her living room there was a sofa, a Tv and a dvd player but no cable. She didn't spend much time at her place except to sleep.
Jameson worked at a bakery Mondays through Wednesdays in the mornings and bartended Thursday through Sunday nights. Her money was spent on rent, food and cigarettes. Sometimes she bought books or movies. The rest went into a commissary account for her brother who was up state in the super-max prison. Jameson didn't make friends, except for the acquaintances at work and she didn't date. She didn't have time or the patience to deal with someone else's feelings. She didn't even deal with her own let alone have the ability to handle another persons. Dealing with drunks and bakery customers was enough human contact for her.
Jameson huffed out a breath, she was hungry but didn't have anything to eat. Deciding that since she didn't have to be at work until six she'd would go by the diner and get food before her shift. Pulling on a pair of dark jeans and black thermal top, Jameson added her knee-high boots and beat up leather jacket for the 'don't give a fuck' look. Her long auburn hair pulled into a loose bun. Jameson grabbed her bag and headed out the door. She had a few hours to kill and thought she'd hit up the local used bookstore after she ate.
Jameson walked into the small diner. Carol called out from the back, "How are ya hun?" Jameson nodded to her and slid into her normal corner booth.
"M'good Carol. You?" she asked when Carol walked up, glancing at the menu.
"I'm good sweetheart," Carol answered. Jameson nodded and then ordered a burger with fries and a chocolate milkshake.
"I don' know where ya put it all girl." Carol said with a light laugh.
"Got a hollow leg Carol" Jameson snarked and leaned her head back, resting it against the wall. When she opened her eyes she saw that there were only a few people in the diner at this time of day. A trucker in holey jeans and matching denim jacket was sitting at the counter. Across the room the Dixons were sprawled out in a booth. Daryl was sitting with his arms crossed looking determined to ignore his brother who sat across from him. Merle was shoveling chipped beef and toast; also know to rednecks affectionately as 'Shit on a Shingle', into his mouth. The food didn't stop him from talking. Jameson could hear his muffled chatter from her seat in the corner. She averted her eyes and stared at the kitchen instead. Her hand tapping a steady beat of a song stuck in her head.
"Have ya seen Johnnie this month?" Carol asked Jameson as she set the milk shake down in front of her.
"Nah. He can't have visitation right now. Fucked up, got his privileges yanked." Jameson said while taking the wrapper off her straw. She took a deep sip of the chocolaty goodness.
"You're too good for him ya know. He doesn't deserve ya takin care of him" Carol remarked, looking down at the young woman.
Jameson shrugged one shoulder but didn't respond. Jameson was used to Carol telling her things like that. Carol was a nice woman, motherly but didn't understand Jameson's relationship with her brother. Johnnie was a fuck up but he was in prison because of her. Jameson knew that she should be sitting in that cell, not her big brother. So she did what she could by providing him with money to spend and visited when he was allowed visitors.
Jameson glanced up after sucking down a large gulp of milkshake to see Daryl staring at her. He raised an eyebrow at her and she jutted her chin out as a greeting. Carol brought over her burger, "Here ya are doll. Ya need anythin' else?"
Jameson shook her head and grabbed the ketchup, pouring some on her plate and dug into her burger.
"Hey yer tha' bitch from tha bar." Merle hollered over across the diner.
"Merle! None of that language in here." Carol snapped at him pointing a pair of tongs in his direction.
Merle glowered at Jameson. He was still pissed she made him stop fighting and had the nerve to make him clean up his mess.
Jameson didn't respond to his out burst just looked at him blandly while putting a fry in her mouth. Merle was trying to stare her down but it wasn't working as well as he planned.
"Yeah well I call 'em as I see 'em and tha' there is a bitch if I ever saw one," Merle said at a lower but still audible level while pointing a fork in Jameson's direction.
Jameson smirked at him but didn't respond. She didn't care what anyone, especially Merle, thought of her
"Merle don' talk ta my girl like that or y'all be out on your rumps." Carol said while wiping the counters down.
"She ain't yer girl. I seen your girl, she's an angel. Tha one she's a rotten one." Merle complained but gave Carol a cheeky grin.
"Shuddup Merle." Daryl said while eating another fry.
"Merle if you'd just come in, drink 'n play pool, we'd never have a problem but you're a shit talker who don't know when ta quit. Leave the kiddies alone and I won't make you mop up your messes," Jameson explained while scooping chocolate shake into her mouth.
Carol ignored Jameson's curse word and chuckled, "Ya made Merle clean up after himself?"
James smirked but didn't respond.
"Made me look like a fool," Merle grumbled.
Carol brought a couple pieces of pie over to Merle and Daryl.
She said quietly, "Merle I don't think she had anything to do with ya lookin' a fool." Merle scowled at her but couldn't hold it. He's sweet on the nice woman and she just brought him pie. His scowl slid off his face and he grinned at her.
Daryl took his pie and started scarfing it down. Jameson watched the brothers. They were both redneck trailer trash but that was not too abnormal in those parts. Jameson even lumped herself in that social class. Jameson knew Merle was into dealing and doing drugs. She knew that he'd been in and out of jail or prison and that Daryl kept his record clean. He drank but didn't do it in excess. She'd never served him more than a couple whiskeys or a handful of beers. He never mixed his boozes either. He was a lot quieter than his loud mouth brother. Jameson didn't know much more since they only passed through when Merle was meeting with his meth connections. She hypothesized that their family wasn't any different from hers though, drunks, druggies, prison inmates and the like.
Jameson found herself watching Daryl scoop whip cream into his mouth. It made her squirm in her seat and looked away to quell the uncomfortable stomach clenching she felt when seeing his tongue dart out. It had started pouring rain and Jameson watched the rivulets of water trail down the greasy windows. She stared outside with her head against the booth, hand spinning a bent spoon on the tabletop.
"Ya need anything else hun'" Carol asked bringing Jameson out of her reverie, blinking her eyes, clearing the cobwebs.
"Nah, what's the damage?" Jameson asked pulling a wad of ones out of her jacket pocket. Carol laid the ticket down and Jameson pulled out enough to cover the total and leave her a good tip.
"See Ya Carol." Jameson said. Daryl looked up and nodded towards Jameson as she walked to the door. She jutted her chin back.
"Hey Sweet Cheeks don' cause me grief next time at tha bar." Merle hollered at her.
Jameson shook her head and walked outside without any rush. She didn't care about getting soaked. After letting her car warm up, Jameson drove into town and pulled up to the tiny used bookstore and walked in. She browsed for a half hour before leaving with a couple historical biographies and newer fiction about a zombie apocalypse. It was nearing 5pm and Jameson wanted to change before work.
Jameson arrived at work a few minutes early and locked her purse and handgun in the office. Jameson was wearing a loose Metallica muscle t-shirt over a wife beater, very worn holey faded jeans and knee high combat boots. A switchblade was in her boot as a back up to her handgun. Having been mugged before her brother taught her to be prepared. Jameson got the run down from Dale of which tables needed refills and who needed to settle tabs. Dale was the owner and one of the morning bartenders. He told Jameson he needed her to take an inventory of the booze after she closed. Jameson groaned inwardly because it added another hour to her shift. She wouldn't be out of the bar until at least 3am. "Sure thing Dale. Have a g'night." She told him as he left for the evening.
By 10pm the bar was crowded. There were three waitresses on the weekends and they were all working hard for their paychecks. The group of frat boys from the prior evening was playing pool. Sasha was taking care of their group again and told Jameson that they weren't being obnoxious like the night before. Shane showed up to work and kept the peace throughout the evening.
"Hey sexy, " Shane said to Jameson while biting his lip. "Heard ya had a lil trouble las' night."
Jameson nodded once and responded, "We did. Got it handled though." She wiped the counter down as a group of women left.
"Well I'm sure ya can handle just 'bout anythin' huh Jamie?" Shane drawled, staring at the cleavage showing while Jameson cleaned.
Jameson rolled her eyes, "Don't call me that, Shane. Go do your job. I'm fuckin' busy."
Shane chuckled and knocked his knuckles twice on the bartop, "Ya got it sexy."
After the last customer left the bar Shane walked the waitresses out but didn't stick around. Jameson closed the bar alone often and told him to take off, that she had Lucille with her and would be fine. Truthfully she just didn't want to spend over an hour alone with the guy.
It was 330am when Jameson completed inventory and made her way into the parking lot behind the bar. Locking up and lighting a cigarette, Jameson heard a noise towards the front of the bar and made her way to the corner. Leaving her cigarette hanging in her mouth she pulled Lucille out. Jameson walked to the corner and peeked around to the front of the building. Shane and Andrea were in Shane's truck. Jameson saw naked ass and on her heel she went to her car. 'Never needed to see that.' She thought while stubbing out her smoke.
Jameson pulled into her parking spot next to her apartment building and collected her mail from her mail slot and headed upstairs. Once she was inside her place she removed her jacket, Lucille and shoes. She grabbed a glass of water and sat down to look through her mail. It was mostly junk mail and a couple bills but there was a letter from Johnnie. Jameson could tell it had been opened and resealed by the prison's mailroom.
Jamesie,
Hey baby sis. Sorry you couldn't visit this month. I had to take care of some problems and I ended up in the SHU. Next month should be good. Thanks for fillin my account. You know you don't have to do that. I hope you're good, taking care of yourself and cutting back on the smokes. Remember that I love ya and that everything works out the way it should. Live your life. Don't waste it.
Love ya sissy,
Johnnie Boy.
Jameson read the letter twice and traced his name with her fingertip, swallowing the lump in her throat. The guilt was causing her chest to seize up and her stomach to roil. She went back into the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels. After pouring three fingers worth, gulping a mouthful she headed into the bathroom. Pulling all of her clothes off, Jameson started the bath and slid into the hot water, sipping her liquid fire. Jameson's eyes got heavy as she laid against the tiled wall.
Her mind flashed to her laying near a crumpled car. Screaming. Rubber burning.
'Jamesie. Listen to me. You hear me? I was driving. Ok. I was driving.'
Jameson jolted up from the bathtub having nodded off in the tub. The water was ice cold and she was shivering. She pulled herself out of the tub slowly, grabbed a towel and headed to bed. Sitting against the headboard Jameson tried to shake the dream. It was like a shard of glass stuck in her brain though. There wasn't anyway for her to sleep after having it. Lighting another cigarette and grabbing one of the books she bought she read for a couple hours until she passed out at 7am.
Waking up at 2pm she starving and groggy. Jameson hadn't made it to the supermarket and was too tired to face going so she opted to go to the diner again. Going more than once a week wast normal but she felt like dog shit. Jameson pulled on the same jeans from the night before, a beat-up Johnny cash t-shirt, a gray hoodie and topped it with her leather jacket. It was still raining and the hood kept the rain off her head.
Jameson pulled up to the diner and could already see Merle and his brother in the tiny restaurant. Pausing for a moment she tried to decide if it was worth dealing with Merle's big mouth. Her growling stomach answered for her. Shaking her head and climbing out of her rust bucket she walked into the diner and slid into her booth. Carol came out of the kitchen and dropped food off to the Dixons, she padded over and looked down at Jameson.
"Ya ok hun?" she said in her concerned motherly tone, her brow furrowed.
Jameson raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What? Ya." she mumbled.
"Ya look tired." Carol said while reaching out to brush the hair out of Jameson's face. Jameson flinched back at the gesture. Carol froze and pulled her hand back quickly. "Breakfast platter." Jameson muttered while pretending to look for something in her purse. She didn't like showing a weakness like flinching. It meant that things bothered her and she preferred to give of the 'I don't give a fuck' attitude.
"Sure, right up hun," Carol said sweetly and then asked over her shoulder, "Coffee?"
"Please," Jameson responded without looking up. Grabbing her cigarettes and stepping outside in the rain, her hand shook as she lit the smoke. Jameson stood in the tiny overhang inhaling deeply trying to calm her nerves. She wasn't sure why she was so edgy but she was guessing that it was the letter and the dream. How Johnnie could be ok with being in prison for her was baffling. She sure as hell wasn't worth it in her opinion.
Carol knocked on the window letting Jameson know her food was ready. Jameson flicked the butt out into the parking lot and headed back in. She kept her eyes and head down, sliding into her seat. Once her coffee was doctored Jameson dug into her pancakes, eggs and bacon. Carol came by and refilled her coffee when it was low but they didn't speak. Carol seemed to realize that Jameson needed space.
Jameson was stirring her coffee and staring out the window when she heard Merle telling a story about his 'baby brother'. Jameson hadn't heard the start of the story but it ended with Daryl claiming to have seen a chupacabra. Jameson peeked over at the two to see Daryl pink faced and embarrassed. Carol was laughing lightly and Merle was making faces, punching his brother in the shoulder.
Daryl glanced over at Jameson and glared when he saw her looking at him. She raised an eyebrow and shrugged one shoulder as if to say 'so fucking what you saw a chupacabra'. He smirked for a moment and looked away.
"Hey Sweet Cheeks, ya see those fuckers from tha other night?" Merle asked loudly.
"Merle! Language." Carol snapped at the man while cutting a piece of pie.
Jameson sighed, not wanting to talk. Leaning her head back she shrugged with both shoulders.
"Wha ya mean ya don' know? Ya did or ya didn'" he snaps. "Ya mute now?"
Jameson growled and cut her eyes to him, "Why does it matter Merle?"
"Cuz I wanna know. Don' be such a bi…..brat" Merle said while editing his language for Carol.
Jameson smirked. She liked Carol taming the loud mouth.
"Yeah they were in. They were fine cuz you weren't there antagonizing them," she responded while she played with her leftover eggs.
Merle huffed out a breath and crossed his arms.
Jameson turned her head and stared at the rain hitting the roof of her car. She stayed like that for a while until she noticed the time. Jameosn had some time to get to the store and then go home before her shift.
"Hey Carol, What I owe ya?" she said while pulling out her wad of crumpled cash.
"It's on me today, hun." Carol responded while collecting dirty dishes from the counter.
"Uhuh. Not happening. How much?" Jameson said while raising her eyebrows.
"No it's on me today doll. No discussion." Carol replied and gave Jameson her 'mom is being serious face.'
Jameson scowled at her and growled. "Carol I don' do handouts and I got money what's the total?"
Carol put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "Listen hun. No talkin' back to me ya hear? Now git!" She said while shooing her hands at Jameson.
Jameson rolled her eyes and stood up, pulling on her jacket.
"Shit I'll take free food. What's the prob Sweet Cheeks? Too good for free shit?" Merle chimed in.
Jameson glared at him, her eyes burning holes into him. Daryl flinched at her harsh expression. Jameson turned back to Carol. "Thanks Carol." She mumbled and stalked out of the diner.
Jameson spent her drive to the grocery store squashing her irrational anger. She didn't do handouts or take from people. She earned her way and never ever took what didn't belong to her. Jameson had starved before she had grown up hungry. Johnnie had been her main caregiver despite only being four years older than her. Their parents were drunks and drug addicts. Their father was an ex marine with PTSD and a penchant for month long benders. Their mom o.d.'d when Jameson was 8.
Johnnie hunted and stole food for her but he never allowed her to steal. He taught her that it was wrong. When she asked why he did it if it was wrong, he told her that he had to feed her and that he was keeping a list of what he owed. Jameson hadn't believed him but he showed her the notebook with a list of every item he had taken. When he got a job at the local mill he set aside some money every month to pay off his debts. Jameson didn't know if he ever made good on his promise but she wouldn't have been surprised if he did.
Jameson arrived at the grocery store and grabbed a cart. She picked up some milk, bread, eggs, cheese and chicken breasts. Grabbing canned soup and pasta she also bought a bag of apples and spinach for some greens. Jameson made it home and unloaded the groceries. Opting to not change for work she tied the t-shirt into a knot in the back to make it tighter. Tighter shirts brought in more tips. After brushing her hair and tying it into a tight ponytail she changed into her combat boots and slid her knife in. Jameson headed out to work slinging beer and avoiding drunk's grabby hands.