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Waiting
Sylvia Grau was taking a break from nursing school, waiting tables at a truck stop on US 34, far enough away from her parents in Omaha that they didn't stop by the dingy little apartment she shared with two other girls, but close enough that she could drive up and drop off a load of clothes every once in a while. Sylvia, named for her grandmother, was a beautiful, petite blond, much stronger than she appeared, in every way one could imagine. Over the years, she had learned to speak her mind, much like Grandma Sylvie, and most customers who dropped by the greasy spoon either loved her or hated her.
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