Chapter Text
Life had never been easy for Joanne Kreese. Not many places were willing to hire a woman in the 1960s. Even as a teenager it was assumed she'd soon be married and pregnant, like all the other women. She'd dropped out of school and taken a job at the local diner when her mom got sick and their debts got bad.
It was just supposed to be until things got better, and then what? Joanne didn't know. But of course things never got better, she lost her mom, and in the absence of other plans she kept on working as many shifts as she could. Even though now she was alone, she still had to keep a roof over her head.
Joanne didn't mind the diner. This job was the only bit of control she had over her life. She didn't particularly like the customers, and putting on a smile for them when she had to cover for one of the waitresses was a real drag. She preferred clearing tables and cleaning. That way she was pretty much invisible to other people.
But there were perks to the job. To pass the time, she supposed, she picked out her favourite customers to watch and slowly get to know. The men were boring, they talked the same and looked the same. But the women with their pretty hairstyles and fashions Joanne could never afford herself were so much fun to look at.
There was one girl who'd caught her eye a while ago. Betsy. Beautiful light brown hair that caught the light just so which she always did up in ribbons. Eyes that reminded Joanne of rainclouds, and a smile that lit up the room.
Joanne wasn't sure what it was about her that drew her to her so much. Sure, she was pretty, but so were lots of girls. But Betsy? Joanne had the greatest urge to learn everything about her. Did she want to be her? Did she want to be her friend? Joanne had never been good at keeping friends. Her mother had always chastised her for not being ladylike. Maybe that was the problem. She'd never cared about fitting in or being popular. But looking at Betsy made her regret not trying harder. As an adult, it was probably too late to learn how to do it.
Not that Joanne stood a chance anyway. Betsy was always with those boys. One of them was her boyfriend, Joanne had gathered, although which one she wasn't sure, they all looked pretty much the same. Joanne didn't like them, and the feeling was mutual. They often tried to trip her on her way past, or she'd hear them making fun of how plain and surly she was. Or worse, they'd whisper about her mother.
Joanne was tough, she could take the insults. And it was worth it to endure them to occasionally catch Betsy telling the boys not to be mean. That warmed Joanne's heart and made her think that she might have a chance of drinking milkshakes with Betsy one day, when the boys went away.
It wasn't long before she got her wish. The army recruiters started to make their rounds. She heard the boys laughing at the recruiter who came to talk to them and one of them balled up the flyer he left and threw it at her.
Joanne took the flyer to the back room with the rest of the garbage she'd picked up, and smoothed it out. She entertained a brief fantasy of cutting her hair and pretending to be a boy so she could sign up. Would that work? Life sure would be easier if she were a boy. The options available to girls seemed both out of reach and unappealing to her. It sure hadn't turned out well for her mother.
She threw out the flyer and didn't think about it again. What use was there in dreaming of a life she could never have?
"Hey Joanne!"
Joanne looked up from the table she was clearing to see Betsy sitting there alone with a coffee, the sun shining in through the window making her hair glow gold.
"Oh, uh h-hi. Betsy, right?"
"Uh-huh." Betsy gave her a bright smile.
Joanne stood there awkwardly with her tray.
"Hey, it sure is quiet around town with all the boys off at basic training, huh?"
"Yeah. A lot less trouble too."
Betsy blinked and Joanne feared she had said the wrong thing, but then Betsy was laughing. "You're not wrong on that!" she said. She looked at the space beside her in the booth. "David and his friends have all gone and left little old me behind."
"You don't look particularly upset about it."
Betsy shook her head. "We broke up, just before he left. He made me promise not to even look at other boys, but he wouldn't believe me. I must've made a smart comment because then he hit me." She touched her cheek.
Joanne looked at the red mark on Betsy's face and balled up her fists. The idea that someone could treat a girl as wonderful as Betsy that way filled her with rage. "You just tell me when he's due home and I'll make him sorry."
Betsy laughed. "It's real sweet of you to offer to protect me like that," she said.
Joanne felt her face growing hot. "People ought to look out for one another, is all."
"I agree," Betsy said with a smile, and took a sip of her coffee. "Say, when do you get off work?"
Joanne cursed herself. She was sure she was now bright red. She heard guys ask her coworkers that question all the time. She looked over at the clock, trying to play it cool. "Um, in a couple of hours."
Betsy glanced at the clock. "Well I have a few errands to run, but I can be back by twelve."
"It's a date," Joanne said, hoping it came across as a joke.
Betsy laughed. "Yeah! Who says we can't have fun without boys, huh?"
"Right!" Joanne said, hurrying off with the tray. She spent the rest of her shift thinking about doing all the things she imagined Betsy doing with her boyfriend, Correction, ex-boyfriend. She was probably kidding herself, but she was so extremely stoked about hanging out with Betsy. This was the first time she had something to look forward to in like, ever.
At the end of her shift, Joanne went to get changed and took her hair down. It hung in awkward tangled curls around her shoulders, so unlike Betsy's lovely hair that would no doubt feel so good to run her fingers through. She frowned at herself in the mirror and scraped her hair back into a tight bun. This would have to do.
Hanging out with Betsy was like a dream. She was even more fascinating than Joanne had imagined. Joanne gathered all her courage and told Betsy she'd love to hang out again and miraculously, she agreed.
They went to the movies together, they took walks together, went thrift shopping and shared meals. Joanne stopped worrying so much about money. If it meant she could spend time with Betsy, she'd scrape some together from somewhere. So what if she got even more behind on bill payments?
Betsy even managed to tame Joanne's hair, and let Joanne braid her own. Joanne had never felt so happy and relaxed as when they were doing each other's hair. This was what she'd been missing all her life. How had she coped, dragging herself through this miserable existence without Betsy? She truly was the light of her life.
They talked about everything. Betsy told Joanne about her family, her older brothers who had gone off to war and her parents who clearly loved her, her brothers and each other. There wasn't much to say about her own family, but Joanne did manage to talk a little about her mother. Her taking her own life had been so much of a scandal that everyone in town knew about it. How cruel the world was that it would condemn a woman's misery and mock a daughter's grief. When Betsy was sympathetic instead, Joanne regained a little faith in humanity.
Betsy also talked about her hopes for the future, a husband and two or three kids, a house with a white picket fence and an immaculate lawn, all the stuff a girl is supposed to want. Joanne made vague noises of agreement while secretly hoping things would carry on exactly as they were now. Joanne couldn't be the man of Betsy's dreams, clearly, she'd never get to kiss her goodbye every morning when she went off to work. But she'd settle for this. Forever.
She dreaded the day the boys came home from the war. Betsy did smile so when she read in the papers about their bravery. Joanne had nightmares about one of them whisking her away. But Joanne had no doubt that no matter what happened, Betsy would remain at the centre of her life, in one way or another. She'd see to that.
But then another customer at the diner spilled a soda on her. It was just one of those things that happened sometimes at places like this and Joanne didn't think much of it at first. But little did she know how important the dark haired rich girl with the worried blue eyes would become to her.