by Willow Rose
The girl on the bed isn’t moving. She is too drugged. Danny looks at her. “I paid extra for privacy,” he grunts, and seconds later they’re left alone.
Chapter Eight
April 2016
I drive Marcia to Publix and help her get groceries. It’s hard for her to do even little things like shopping because she has no license after her DUI. Usually, she just goes on her bike, but she can’t carry much on her bike. So her sister sometimes drives her, and every now and then I take her. Gives me time to talk to her and I enjoy that. Especially now that she is doing so much better. I realize I have missed her and who she used to be before the drinking started.
I decide to make lasagna tonight. Lasagna is Salter’s favorite dish. He is supposed to stay at my house for the next week and a half, and I intend to spoil him rotten. I miss him while he is with his father. I’m not used to it yet.
“Will you come and surf with us soon, please?” I ask Marcia, as we carry out our groceries and put them in the back of my car. Marcia hasn’t been surfing for a very long time.
“Yes. I was just thinking about it today. I think it would be good for me to get back out there. What does the forecast say?”
“Tomorrow is supposed to be good. Maybe once Salter is back from school around low tide? I have a date tomorrow night, and I would like to get a little exercise in before I pull on a dress again,” I say with a laugh. Not because it is funny, but because I am embarrassed by how much weight I have gained lately. I don’t know if it is the break-up with Joey or what, but I can’t stop eating sweets. I don’t even count the amount of cookies I eat in a day anymore. I don’t want to know.
“A date, huh? That sounds great,” Marcia says. “I should be able to go out with you two for a little while tomorrow.”
“Yay,” I say, and close the trunk.
I open the door to the car, and then pause. “Is that Danny?”
“Where?”
“Over there getting into his car,” I say and point.
“Looks like him, but who’s the girl?” Marcia asks, wrinkling her nose. “She looks a little young.”
I stare at the young girl in the very short skirt. She doesn’t seem to be able to walk on her own without Danny supporting her.
“Could it be one of Junior’s friends?” I ask.
“If Junior had friends in a brothel,” Marcia says. “That girl is doped. She looks like a junkie and a prostitute. What is he doing with her?”
I shrug. I don’t like this feeling. I know Danny has had a hard time since his wife was killed last fall. I know he is lonely, but still. It is hard to tell the girl’s age with the clothing and the heavy make-up, but she doesn’t look a day over eighteen—if that.
Marcia waves. “Hey, Danny!”
He sees her and nods while helping the girl inside of his car. He doesn’t seem to be his usual happy self, and he doesn’t come over to talk to us. Instead, he nods again, gets into his seat, and drives off.
So unlike Danny.
“What was that about?” Marcia asks.
I shrug again and get in behind the wheel. “Maybe he was in a hurry.”
“Danny is usually so friendly.”
“I know. Maybe he didn’t like us seeing him with her.”
“You think he was embarrassed?”
“Yeah. Something like that. Wouldn’t you be?”
I back out of the parking spot.
“Yeah,” Marcia says. “I knew he was lonely, but not that he was that desperate. You think he likes young girls like that?”
“I don’t know what he likes, but I can tell you that it worries me. Last week, I saw him come out of Cheaters in Cape Canaveral with another girl. Much like this one, only I’m pretty sure she was even younger.”
“Oh, my.”
“I know.”
Chapter Nine
April 2016
The young girl in the picture is smiling. Her front teeth are too big for her face, but she is still pretty. Her eyes are sparkling as she holds her surfboard up for the camera. Boxer clicks the picture and looks at it more closely. He watches her features. She has brown eyes. Long dark hair. Just like what the client is asking for. But is she the one?
He is not sure.
He closes the picture again, and then continues looking through the timeline on the mother’s Facebook page. The mom is stunning. He wonders if her breasts are real or not. They look almost too perfect in that light summer dress she is wearing in the next picture. Not that it usually matters to his client.
Boxer closes Facebook and moves on to the mother’s Instagram. She has a lot more pictures here, and he can go through everything she has posted over the past year or so. Lots of pictures of her and her daughter. Of them at Disney World, of them at Brevard Zoo, of them eating ice cream. The mother is very into the environment and posts a lot about the dead fish in Banana River and how to save the lagoon. On Facebook, he has seen that she plans on being at the rally next weekend.
Maybe he will be there too.
A message pops up in the chat room and he turns to the needs of his client.
>What do you have for me?<
>I think I have your match. Sending pictures now.<
Boxer downloads the woman’s photos to his own computer, and then uploads them in the secure chat room. He sits back in his chair and drinks from his coffee while waiting for the client’s answer.
>Are the breasts real?<
>I don’t know. Does it matter?<
>Not really. But do you have others?<
>I do. Give me a sec.<
Boxer grumbles as he goes back to Facebook and finds another mother and daughter that he thought of as a match. He really thought his client would like the first ones better. He downloads a few more pictures, then posts them in the chat room. This woman has smaller breasts, but a bigger behind. She is a good match, but she has recently gotten a boyfriend, and Boxer doesn’t like that. Usually he only goes after the single mothers, since they’re easier. They’re alone more often and it takes longer before anyone discovers that they are gone.
Single moms, especially those that struggle financially, are the easiest targets. They’re flakier and move around often, either for jobs or because they met someone.
>I like the first one better,< the client finally answers.
Boxer smiles widely as he looks at the pictures again. >Good choice, sir. That’s a nice pair. Both of them are truly beautiful. Ready and ripe.<
>Then let’s harvest. ASAP.<
Boxer smiles. He closes the chat and stares at the young girl with her surfboard. He touches the bridge of her nose with his pointer and lets it run across her young face. A beauty like her is going to make him a lot of money.
Chapter Ten
April 2016
“I am so sorry for springing this on you at the last minute.”
I move aside and let Chloe come in. “It’s no problem, Mary,” she says, and puts her laptop on the kitchen table.
Salter is on the couch with his iPad. He doesn’t even look up. I know he can hear us, but he just doesn’t want to. He has been in a bad mood all afternoon since I told him Chloe was going to look after him tonight.
“So your date changed his plans, huh?” Chloe asks.
“Yes,” I say with a sigh. “We were supposed to go out tomorrow night, but he had to change it, so I said yes to today; otherwise, we couldn’t see each other till next week. I hope it’s not a big problem.”
Chloe shakes her head. “It’s not. Not for me at least.” She throws a glance at Salter, who still doesn’t pay any attention to us.
“I know. Salter is pissed. He’s been at his dad’s for a week and we were supposed to hang out together. But what can I do? I really want to see this guy. I think I like him.”
“Salter will be fine. You’ll have plenty of time together the rest of the week. It smells divine in here,” Chloe says.
“I made a lasagna for you three to share.”
Chloe’s face
is lit up. “Yum. I love your lasagna.”
“I hope you didn’t have other plans for tonight,” I say, as I storm around, setting the table for them, wearing my dress that is a little too tight. Well, maybe not just a little.
“Me?” Chloe says. “Only work. I brought the laptop, so I can do it from here when Salter is asleep. And I brought Twister to play with Salter.”
“That’s awesome,” I say, and take out the sizzling lasagna from the oven. “Salter loves Twister, don’t you Salter?”
“Nah. Not really,” he grumbles from the couch.
“Don’t mind him,” Chloe says. “We’ll have a great night, the three of us. Don’t you worry.”
“Yeah, that reminds me. My dad is in his room watching TV. He’s already in his chair, so if you could just roll him out here. I usually give him a fork to hold; now that he has regained sensitivity in eight of his fingers, he is actually able to hold it, and he can move the lower part of his right arm. He usually misses his mouth, so you’ll have to help him out, and he spills a lot…I mean like a lot, but it’s important for him to do it, in order to get better. I can clean up later when I get back. You don’t have to think about it…and…there was something else, but now I can’t remember what it was…”
Chloe places her hand on my shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Mary. Don’t worry. We’re going to be fine.”
I sigh. “You’re right. I’m obsessing. My dad can tell you what he needs. Guess I am just a little nervous about this date.”
I take in another deep breath and straighten my back. “How do I look?”
She stares at me like she needs to find the right words. It’s not a good sign.
“That bad, huh?” I ask.
“No. I mean. Yes. I’m sorry, Mary, but that dress is way too tight.”
I chuckle. “Thanks for being honest, at least.”
“Let’s go upstairs and find another one,” she says.
I follow her to my bedroom, where she disappears into my walk-in closet. I sit on the bed.
“We saw Danny today,” I say.
“So?”
“It was so strange. Marcia and I were at Publix. We saw Danny in the parking lot. We waved, he didn’t wave back, only nodded like he didn’t want to talk to us. And he was with a young girl.”
“So?” Chloe repeats.
“So…it’s not the first time. Last week, I saw him coming out of Cheaters with another young girl on his arm.”
Chloe pokes her head out of the closet. “Ah, come on.”
“I’m serious, Chloe. I worry.”
She disappears back inside. “You always worry.”
“Well I’m worrying a lot, then,” I say.
“You always worry a lot. It’ll make you sick someday. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for it.”
“Yeah, that he likes young girls.”
Chloe comes out. She looks angrily at me and points a finger at me. “No. Not Danny. Not him.” She throws a dress at me. “Here, try this.”
I pick it up. “Why not? Maybe he’s always done this. We knew things were bad with Jean even before she was killed. Maybe this is what he was into. I just don’t know what to do about it.”
I put on the dress. When I look up, Chloe is right next to me.
“Let it go.”
I shake my head. I can’t believe her reaction to this. “I’m not going to let it go. It’s illegal. And so…so wrong.”
She helps me zip up in the back. The dress tightens on my body. I suck in everything I can.
“It’s none of our business.”
“Of course it is; how can you even say that? I love Danny, but I am not going to stand by and watch if he…if he hurts…”
Chloe turns me around and we’re face to face. “Stop! Danny would never hurt anyone. You know that!”
“That’s what I thought, but…”
“I don’t want to hear any more about it, Mary. You do this all the time. You get this idea in your head and then you obsess about it till it drives all of us nuts. Danny is a sweet guy. He’s our friend.”
“Sorry. I just…”
“No. Not one single word more about this.”
“All right. Geez.”
“Now look at yourself and tell me you don’t think this is better.”
I look at myself in the mirror. The long blue dress looks really nice on me.
“See?” Chloe says. “You better listen to me.”
I nod, bend forward, and kiss my friend on the forehead. “All right,” I say. “I’ll listen to you from now on. I’ll let it go.”
“Good. Now go have fun on your date.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Eleven
April 1975
The large explosion makes the windows shake in the small one-room house in Saigon, where Danh and his eight siblings have lived with their mother since their homes were taken by the soldiers and their father sent to prison.
Danh is sitting on the floor with his younger sister when they hear it. Long whimpers and looks up at her big brother. Danh glares at his mother. Her face is worried.
Another explosion sends shocks through the children. They all look to their mother, who looks as scared as they are.
“What is it?” Long asks.
“Probably just thunder,” Danh says. “Nothing to worry about.”
Danh gets up and walks outside with his brothers. In the distance, they see smoke. Lots of smoke. Then another loud explosion. Screams in the air and lots of people in the streets. A neighbor comes running past them. Danh’s older brother, Bao, stops him.
“What’s going on?”
“The Vietcong’s coming. They’re making their way to the capitol building. We’re getting out of here while we still can.”
Bao looks at Danh, then at their other brothers. “What’s going on?” Danh asks, confused and bewildered. He doesn’t understand what is going on, but he knows it is bad. Just like on Long’s birthday two months ago.
“They’re coming,” Bao says. “They’re taking over.”
With his heart in his throat, Danh walks back inside with his brothers, where their mother and sister are waiting.
“What is it, son?” their mother asks, seeing the concern on their faces.
“It is what we feared,” Bao says.
Being the oldest, he has been the man of the house ever since they took their father. The responsibility has weighed on him and he looks a lot older than he really is, Danh thinks.
Their mother nods. Danh doesn’t like the look on her face. It scares him.
“Get your bikes,” she says. “Ride out of town and don’t come back till things have calmed down. You hear me?”
“No!” Danh yells. “We’re not leaving you here!”
“You must,” his mother tells him. “They will make soldiers of you and rape your sister. Take her and get yourself as far away as possible, do you hear me?”
“But…but…”
Danh’s mother grabs a crying Long in her arms and hands her to Danh. “You take care of your sister. You protect her, you hear me? You protect her with your life.”
Danh is crying heavily now. He sniffles and nods. “Why can’t you come with us?”
“I have to stay behind in case your father comes back. Besides, I’ll slow you all down.”
Danh looks at his mother’s leg that is still bad since the beating she received when they arrested their father.
“Come on, Danh,” Bao yells, standing in the doorway. “We have to hurry. They’re getting closer.”
Danh takes one last glance at his mother, and receives a worried look back. “Go,” she whispers. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you soon.”
Crying, he carries his sister out the door, where Bao is waiting impatiently on his moped.
“Hurry up, Danh. Jump on the back.”
Chapter Twelve
April 2016
Tom meets me in front of Heidi’s Jazz club. I feel weird meeting someo
ne else here, since it used to be mine and Steven’s favorite place to go. But even though things went bad with him, I don’t think it is fair to blame it on the Jazz club.
He whistles as he sees me walking towards him. “Wow. Look at you.”
It’s our third date, and I am glad the dress is classy and long and doesn’t signal that I want to get laid. ‘Cause I really do. Well, a part of me does. It has been forever. At least that’s what it feels like. The other part of me just wants to call Joey. I can’t get used to not being with him.
Tom holds the door for me as we walk inside. It is a Monday night, so I don’t expect there to be a whole lot of people. That is actually another reason for us coming here. It is spring break in Cocoa Beach, and that means lots of people everywhere. I want to have Tom to myself.
Tom is not the most handsome guy I have met. Not like Steven or even like Joey. As a matter of fact, he is a little chubby, but that suits me well. I am tired of being the only chubby one in my relationships. Tom enjoys good food just as much as I do. That counts for a lot in my book.
“I got your table ready for you, Miss Mills,” the lady greeting us says. We follow her to the small table close to the stage and sit down. It is dark inside, the kind of darkness that gives it a big city nightclub atmosphere. I like that about this place. The waiter approaches us and hands us menus and small flashlights to be able to see.
“Sorry that I had to change our plans in a hurry,” Tom says and corrects his shirt. He is wearing a suit for our date. I love that. Joey never wore a suit for me. Not even a tie. Doesn’t like the way it feels, he would say. He felt like he was being strangled. I have to say, I enjoy that Tom dresses up for me. Makes me feel like I matter to him.
“I would like a glass of Chardonnay to begin with,” I say.
“I’ll have an Oktoberfest-bier,” Tom says, referring to the Austrian beer. The owner of the place, Heidi, is Austrian.
“And we’ll have red wine with the dinner, right?” he asks.
“Yes. Red wine with the lamb,” I say. That is another reason for me to choose this place. For Easter, they have the greatest lamb for the whole month of April. It is divine.
