The Legend of Sarah Taylor

Chapter 22: Moderation

It had been three weeks since Sarah had seen Jonathan, and every day felt just as painful and empty as the one before it. She was been counting down the days until Lyn's return, hoping that seeing her best friend would alleviate some of her grief.

Her phone was still broken, leaving her without a way to contact anyone or even check her forum, aside from trips to the library to use their computers.

She awoke with a full bladder and an empty stomach and stumbled into the restroom before approaching the fridge. On the otherwise barren shelves was half a bottle of Tapatio, several ketchup packets, a cocktail pickle jar with only one pickle, and a fast food box with the remains of a hamburger that had sent her hurling to the toilet after three bites the night before.

She gagged at the smell of it and tossed it into the trash, crossing back into her room to grab some cash. All that was left of her father's monthly $800 check was six single dollar bills and a quarter.

Shit. What day is it?

With her phone broken, she had to rely on her memory.

I remember cashing a check some time before Lyn's wedding. Lyn got married at the end of October. It's December, but I went two weeks without spending a dime. I shouldn't have run out so fast. I'm barely even eating. That means I didn't get his check for November.

She threw on her hoodie and walked out to her mailbox, making a face as she pulled out a pile of junk mail. It took her a few minutes to sort through it, coming up with a late notice for her electric bill and nothing from her father.

Of all the fucking times for him to forget... I don't want to deal with this right now.

She grabbed the last of her cash and walked down to the corner store for something more substantial than a bag of chips. If she was going to confront him, she needed her strength. It had been nearly fifteen years since she'd seen him.

The fact that he hadn't even bothered to show up to her mother's funeral had left her with a seething rage any time she thought about him. It didn't help that a month after she died, he moved to Texas with a girl barely a decade older than her. She had toyed with the idea of showing up at his house to terrorize him for all of his mistakes, but the monthly checks coupled with her fear of how the conversation would go kept her away.

She pushed open the door to the convenience store and braced for having to face the cashier from the robbery three weeks prior. To her relief, the evening cashier was gone — replaced by a middle aged woman with long gray hair.

As she stood in front of the premade sandwiches, a man in his late fifties approached the counter with his wallet in hand.

"Hey, stranger. Ain't seen you in ages," said the woman.

"I've been back east, visiting my kid for the Holiday."

Holiday? Oh, right. Thanksgiving. Some people have families, I guess.

"How's she doin'?"

"Good, good. They're on kid number three. I can't keep up anymore."

The woman chuckled. "Well, good for them. Young love."

"Anythin' good happen while I was gone?"

"Same ol'. Oh, hang on— didja hear about the robbery a while back?" the woman asked him, setting a fresh pack of cigarettes on the counter.

"Robbery? Where at?" The man shuffled through the wallet, looking for something specific.

"Right here. Some idiot pulled a gun on Miguel."