17. First pay check celebration

Lena's POV

I was stacking dishes behind the counter when Ruth came over, her hands on her hips, a grin spreading across her face.

“Well, look at you, Lena. Your first paycheck. Finally!” she said, ruffling my hair a little, like I was still that awkward kid she had known for three weeks.

I laughed, nervously tucking a strand of blonde hair behind my ear. “Yeah… feels kind of weird. I earned this? Really?”

Ruth laughed. “Yes, really. You’ve been busting your butt, showing up on time, learning fast. You earned every cent.”

I stared at the envelope in my hand, feeling my stomach twist in that weird mix of pride and disbelief. “I guess… I guess I didn’t think it would feel like this. Like… it’s mine. I’ve never really… done anything just for me before.”

Ruth gave me that knowing look of hers, soft but teasing. “Well, tonight we fix that. We’re going out to celebrate. My treat. Come on, finish up here, we’ll head out. I know a place you’re going to love.”

I blinked, a little caught off guard. “Really? You don’t have to…”

She waved me off. “Stop being so shy. You earned it. Now move it.”

After closing time, we walked a few blocks down to a small, warm restaurant Ruth loved. The smell of garlic and roasting meat hit me as soon as we opened the door, and it felt… nice. Normal, not heavy with everything I had left behind.

“Table for three, please,” Ruth told the hostess. She smiled and led us to a cozy booth near the window.

Once seated, Ruth ordered wine for us while we scanned the menu. “Start with garlic snails,” she said, giving me a sly grin. “Trust me.”

I laughed nervously. “Snails? I don’t know…”

Jess leaned over, elbows on the table, grinning. “You’ll live. Just bite, chew, and don’t overthink it.”

Ruth shook her head. “I swear, Lena, you need to relax. You worked hard today. This is about enjoying it.”

I picked up my glass of wine, finally allowing myself to smile. “Okay… okay. I’ll try. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” they echoed.

We sipped quietly for a minute, watching the low hum of the restaurant. I took a bite of the snails Ruth had insisted on, and surprisingly… they were good. Really good.

“So,” I said finally, taking a sip of wine, “how long have you lived here, Ruth? Everyone seems to know you in town already. It’s… impressive.”

Ruth smiled softly, letting out a small sigh. “All my life. Born here, grew up here, married here. My husband and I opened the café when we got married. Thirty years together… and now it’s just me. He passed last year. Cancer. It was hard, but I’ve got the café, and people like you, Lena… it keeps me going.”

I nodded, taking that in slowly. “Thirty years… that’s a long time. I can see why everyone knows you.”

Jess leaned back, her fingers tapping on the table. “I’ve been here five years. Moved away from… well, let’s just say a very bad situation. My ex was… dangerous. He killed my parents. That’s not a joke. He’s in prison now. But I had to get away. This town… it’s quiet. Safe. I could breathe.”

I blinked, silence falling over the table. “Wow… that’s… that’s incredible you made it through that.”

Jess shrugged, a little bitter but calm. “You survive, that’s all. You take one step, then the next. That’s life sometimes.”

Ruth reached across the table and gave my hand a small squeeze. “Exactly. And Lena, you’re already doing it. First paycheck, first night out. You’re moving forward. You should feel proud.”

I swallowed, taking a deep breath. “Yeah… I’m trying. Trying to feel proud for once instead of just… surviving.”

They ordered dinner, and we waited as the smells of roasting garlic, baked bread, and sizzling meat filled the air. The waiter came, and soon our plates were in front of us. We talked about everything except my life at first. Movies we loved, terrible dating stories, even Ruth’s husband’s obsession with the café in its early days.

Once the plates were cleared a bit, Jess leaned forward, curiosity lighting her face. “Okay, Lena… enough about us. What about you? Why’d you choose this town?”

I hesitated, swirling the wine in my glass. “I… I needed to leave. Somewhere no one knew me, where no one would look for me or ask questions. Somewhere I could just… breathe for a while, figure out who I am without… everything else weighing me down.”

Ruth nodded. “That makes sense. Sometimes you need to disappear for a bit. Recenter.”

I laughed quietly. “Disappear is a good word for it.”

Jess smiled, leaning back in her chair. “And your husband? You said something about him before. What happened there?”

My throat tightened, but I took a deep breath. “We… we grew up together. I was an orphan. He wasn’t. His parents took me in when I was ten. They raised me, loved me. I started dating Ethan in high school. I thought… I thought it would last forever.”

Ruth and Jess both waited quietly, giving me the space to continue.

“Then our first anniversary…” I stopped, the words catching in my throat. “He… he handed me divorce papers. Just like that. No explanation, no warning. I left. Didn’t tell anyone where I was going. I needed… space. I needed to live my life again without someone deciding it for me. I didn’t leave a trail. No one can trace me. And now… I’m here.”

Ruth reached over again, her fingers brushing mine. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. But look at you now. You’re standing here. You survived the worst. You’re making your own money, celebrating it tonight. That’s a start.”

Jess grinned, raising her glass. “And a hell of a start. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently. You worked hard for that paycheck. You earned it.”

I clutched my glass, a real smile spreading across my face. “Yeah. I did. I really did.”

We spent the rest of the evening laughing, telling stories, and even teasing each other. Ruth shared memories of the early café days and her late husband’s ridiculous obsession with getting every detail perfect. Jess told stories of life before she moved here, of the wild and scary things she’d survived, of the small victories that had kept her going. And I just listened, realizing for the first time in weeks I could laugh without the weight of the past dragging me down.

By the time we left the restaurant, the night air felt cleaner, lighter. I clutched my paycheck in my bag, feeling something I hadn’t in a long time: possibility. A small spark, fragile but real, that maybe, just maybe, I could survive. Maybe even thrive.

Ruth smiled at me as we walked back. “Don’t forget, Lena. You’re stronger than you think. You’ve come a long way in three weeks. Keep going.”

Jess nudged me playfully. “And you better. We don’t want to see you sulking at that café of yours all day. Life’s too short.”

I laughed, really laughed, for the first time in what felt like forever. For the first time in weeks, I felt hope. Messy, shaky, but mine.

I went inside my room, setting the envelope carefully on the bedside table. My first paycheck. Mine. And for the first time in a long while, I whispered to myself, “I can survive this. I can do this.”