dishrag. "I'd call that his tough luck," she said. "She'll bring him more misery than she'll ever be worth. She's just like her grandmother. Besides, I doubt Lois and Gene want her marrying a poor boy."
"What's the matter with them?" Sonny asked. "Why do they think everybody has to be rich?"
"Oh, I don't guess they do," Genevieve said. "I oughtn't to even talk about them. We were all good friends once. Gene and Dan roughnecked together when we first moved here and we all went to dances together. Lois' mother had disowned her and she and Gene were livin' in a little old room place over the newspaper office. She couldn't even afford a flour-sack apron, much less a mink coat."
Genevieve untied her own apron, which was damp from having been pressed against the sink. She,stared at the floor a moment, her look full of memory.
"I'll always have a soft spot for Lois," she said. "Lois is some woman. Gene just never could handle her. Since he started making his strikes we haven't seen much of one another. When folks get rich all of a sudden it makes them feel sort of guilty to be around folks who've stayed poor."
"I hate people like that," Sonny said.
Genevieve sighed and got herself a fresh apron. "You oughtn't to," she said. "It's perfectly natural. I've always wondered what would have happened if Dan had bought the rig and made the strikes. They offered that rig to Dan first. In fact, Gene Farrow tried to get Dan to go partner with him on it, but when it comes to money Dan Morgan never took a chance in his life. If we had made the money we might be just as touchy about it now as they are. It can change people, you know."
Sonny looked at her curiously. He could not imagine Genevieve rich.
"Do you wish you all had made it?" he asked.
"Oh sure," she said, smiling tiredly. "I wish we'd made it."
Sonny handed her a ten-dollar bill in payment for the cheeseburger.
"Your Dad give you this?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I never take money from him if I can help it. He needs all he's got.'
Genevieve frowned, and Sonny nervously began popping toothpicks out of the toothpick machine. "It wouldn't hurt you to take a little something from him once in a while," she said. "You're the only boy I know who won't even let his own father give him money."
But Sonny had his mind on other things. "I hear Dan's goin' back to work soon," he said. "I guess you'll be quittin' work before long."
Genevieve slapped at his hand to make him let the tooth-picks alone, but she was touched by the question. Of all the boys who had crushes on her, Sonny was her favorite. Also, he had the worst crush, and was the most vulnerable. She watched a moment as he walked over to the brightly lit jukebox and stooped to catch his reflection in the shiny plastic dome. He got out his pocket comb and began to comb his brown hair. He was so young and so intent on himself that the sight of him made her feel good about life for a moment; she almost wanted to cry, and since her husband's accident that was something she only dared do in moments of optimism.
"Honey, we got four thousand dollars' worth of doctor bills to pay," she said finally. "I'll probably be making cheeseburgers for your grandkids."
Sonny shoved his comb back in his hip pocket. Four thousand dollars in debts was something he couldn't really imagine; it was a misfortune, of course, but somehow he felt lighter about things. He went back and got one more toothpick to show Genevieve he wasn't intimidated.
She ignored him and drew herself another cup of coffee. It was such a cold night that there probably wouldn't be any more customers until the bus came through at 3 A.M., and then it would only be the bus driver. The only time anyone ever got on or off in Thalia was when some soldierboy was coming home on leave or else going back to his base. The two hours before the bus came were the loneliest of the night.
"See you," Sonny said. "If I knew how to cook I'd stay and substitute for you:"
Genevieve was