The Senator's Son

by Anna Albo

  "You look familiar," she said, as we went into the changing rooms.

  "My dad has an antique shop in Pine Falls. Does that ring a bell?"

  She shook her head. "No. What's your name?"

  "Emma Andrews."

  She nodded and smiled. "I remember you now. You were quite good, then all of a sudden you quit. Injury?"

  "Sort of. My grandmother died. Tennis was our thing and with her gone, I lost my desire to compete."

  "You were damn good. Didn't you reach number one in the state?"

  "Number two."

  "You should have gone down south to all those fancy academies. I bet you could have gone professional."

  "I wasn't that good."

  "I think you were. How often do you come here? I'd love to play with you again. It'd be my honor."

  A warm, fuzzy feeling came over me. "I go to school full time, but I try to get out here a few days a week. It's hard to pin down times."

  "Tell you what, I'll give you my number. Call me when you're coming out and we can play a few sets."

  "Sure," I said, taking the card she produced from her gym bag. I took a quick glance at it. She was an accountant.

  "Have you ever considered teaching here? They could use some better instructors."

  "I already have a job and with school, I wouldn't have the time."

  "Just throwing it out there. The club would be lucky to have you."

  "Thank you, Helen. For the game too."

  We parted ways and I took the bus home and found the apartment empty. Again. I made a quick dinner, did a little homework and went to bed.

  ZACH DISAPPEARED FROM the face of the earth. He didn't text or come by Julian's. Each time I made, saw, or sold an éclair, I thought of him. Yes, I'd been too hard on him. I still didn't believe his story, but I was pretty sure he did. I could have called him and tried to patch things up, but I didn't know what to say. And what if I texted him and he didn't reply? All these thoughts went through my mind as I went through the motions at work. It was Friday night and I was closing with Jessica. The crowd was light with everyone off drinking in celebration of the weekend. My weekend plans consisted of a tennis game with Helen and lots of working and studying.

  The night was uneventful until about nine forty. Bianca showed up again with Becca and a few friends. This time Jessica was at my side and told me to get some medium sized cups from the stockroom even though we didn't need them.

  I hung around back there, hoping to give Jessica enough time to fill their orders. When I returned with the cups, Bianca and her three friends were seated at the booth closest to the door. They were all decked out in bar clothes, complete with miniskirts, stilettos, and enough makeup for a Broadway musical.

  My phone trilled a text. I pulled it out and read the text from the unidentified number.

  000-000-0000: Too scared to serve us?

  How did she get my number? I turned my phone off and put it away. Giggling and loud laughing emerged from their table. I glanced at my watch. In less than ten minutes they'd be kicked out and we could close and go home. Just a few more minutes.

  "I'll clean tables and you tidy up the front end," Jessica said. We usually did the reverse, but her kindness was immeasurable. The only problem with this plan was that she left me alone. The second Jessica was at the other end of the shop, Bianca bee-lined for me.

  "Why so rude? Don't you reply to texts?" she asked, leaning over the counter with a big smile on her face.

  "I'm working. I'm not supposed to text."

  "Well, I ordered a medium skinny latte and it's gross," she said, slamming her cup on the counter. Half of it spilled in my direction but missed hitting me.

  "I can make you another one," I said with forced calm.

  "You should probably clean this mess up first." Her valley girl voice nauseated me.

  "Do you want me to make another one or not?"

  She squinted her eyes and smiled again. "You really shouldn't be rude to customers. I could tell your boss."

  "I'm not being rude. I'm asking you a question. Do you want another one or not?"

  "What I want is for you to leave Jake and Zach alone."

  I laughed. I couldn't help it. "Seriously? Is that what you came here to tell me? You can have both of them, Bianca."

  "And I want you to move out," she said, poking me in the shoulder.

  I stepped back. Her touch felt like a tetanus shot. "I'm not moving out."

  "Yeah, you are, because Jake is going to tell you to."

  "No, he won't."

  "If I tell him I'm going to break up with him if he doesn't get rid of you, he will, because, unlike how he feels about you, he actually likes me. And then you will have to take your sorry-ass, nasty self and go back to whatever cave you came from. So save yourself the embarrassment and go away now."

  "I'm not going anywhere."

  Bianca's face tightened as the frustration mounted, mostly because I wasn't getting upset, at least not outwardly. "Newsflash—you are. I know you think Jake gives a shit about you, but I don't think he'd care if you dropped dead. You're like a rash that won't go away. You're this gross, disgusting boil he wishes he could pop. Why don't you do us all a favor and go kill yourself. Pills work fast and I hear it's painless."

  "You're sick."

  "No, you're sick. I think you have some serious mental health issues. Everyone who meets you thinks you're some crazy-ass witch. Do you brew things in your cauldron at night? No, wait, I forgot, you'd rather hang around with your pack of mangy stray dogs. Tell me, did you ever have friends, or were you always pathetic?"

  Images and reminders came back to me of when I was a kid. I was in grade one, in a different class from Jake, and a girl named Victoria Parry used to make fun of my clothes and hair. She called me stinky and her friends would laugh and so would the other kids in my class. After that no one wanted to be my friend. At the time, Dad and I were living alone in an apartment because Grandma and Grandpa wanted to teach him to be responsible. Responsible meant not combing my hair before school, or sending me in clean clothes. It wasn't his fault. He was twenty-two with a six-year-old daughter. He didn't have a clue what to do. School lunch consisted of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and an apple, if he remembered to buy them. Ms. Granger, my teacher, didn't treat me much better than the kids did. Because dad enrolled me late and forgot to buy me school supplies, she always treated me with contempt, like it was my fault. She made me sit at the back of the class even though it was configured in alphabetical order. I hated her because she made me want to cry. At recess and lunch Jake would let me play with his friends, some of whom were in my class, but once we were back in our room, suddenly they forgot to be nice.

  My only solace that year came when we had meet-the-teacher night. Ms. Granger took one look at Dad and was putty in his hands. I may have been six years old, but I wasn't stupid. She took Dad under her middle-aged wing, flirted with him like crazy, and lied to him about how much she adored me. Dad asked her why I was sitting at the back of the class, because Dad wasn't stupid either. Ms. Granger claimed it was a mistake and promised to rectify it, which she did the following day. As for the other moms, who were at least five to ten years older than Dad, all chatted with him—even horrible Victoria Parry's mom. They loved him, so why couldn't they love me?

  "Uh, freak show, I'm talking to you."

  "Why don't you leave me alone?" Now I was upset. She'd broken me and I had to calm myself down.

  "I will once you disappear."

  "I've already told you that I'm not going anywhere."

  I took a nearby rag and cleaned up the mess she'd made hoping she'd shove off, but Bianca kept talking.

  "Jake told me how in the fifth grade this guy Justin beat the shit out of you. He said that all these kids watched while Justin kicked and punched you. You know how Jake knows? Because he was watching. Bet you didn't know that. And then after Justin beat you up, you sat on the ground like a loser and wouldn't get up. Jake took of
f before you saw him because he didn't want to help you. Even then he wanted you to go away. Why can't you take the hint?"

  I could barely breathe. He'd told her that story? I'd never told Jake about that. Justin Havers was another person who’d taunted me and he beat me up because I got brave one day and told him to leave me alone.

  "He said the worst thing that ever happened to him was when you decided to go to Western. He knew he'd have to let you live with him, that his brother and your dad would make him. It's so strange that your dad and his brother are friends, but then Jake told me you were a mistake. That your horny parents had sex and out came you."

  "You better go," I warned.

  "Or what? Like I'm scared of you, you stupid bitch. No wonder your mom took off. I would too if you were my kid. You're so gross."

  Something came over me, like some demon possessing my body. With one swing, my fist connected with her face. I could hear the crunch of something. Her teeth? She screamed and I took a step back as blood spurted from her nose.

  "Oh my God, oh my God!" she kept screaming.

  It was all so surreal. Her friends came running from their booth, Jessica dropped her mop and rushed over. People were yelling, maybe at me, I couldn't tell. Bianca, clutching her nose and mouth as blood trickled down her hands, sobbed like I'd handed her a death sentence. My first instinct was to smile, but then I realized how depraved that would look. This wasn't me. I didn't do things like this.

  "I'm pressing charges!" Bianca shrieked, spitting out blood at the same time. Tears were streaming down her face and I didn't feel a thing. Not an ounce of remorse. "My parents will sue!"

  Jessica grabbed me by the arm. "Go to the stockroom and don't move," she commanded.

  I did as I was told and waited. I pulled out my phone, switched it on, and sent Jake a text telling him what I'd done. Then I put my phone back in my pocket and waited.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ZACH

  I was in a deep sleep and jarred by the ringing of my phone. I felt around for it and mumbled a hello.

  "Emma's been arrested. I'm not going down there to bail her out. If you don't go, I'll have to call her dad and I know that'd kill her. Not that I really care about her right now."

  I rubbed sleep from my eyes. "Who is this?" I grumbled.

  "It's Jake," he spat.

  Like I was supposed to know it was that asswipe. "What's going on? What are you talking about?"

  "Emma attacked Bianca. I'm heading to the emergency room right now. She's going to be fine, but Emma was taken to the police station. I'm trying to talk Bianca out of pressing charges, but she won't listen to me. Look, someone has to go down there, at least to bail Emma out."

  "And that's supposed to be me?" When did I become her keeper?

  "Well, it’s not going to be me. Right now I'm so pissed off, I don't care if I never see her again."

  I sat up in bed and tried to absorb everything. "Well, she lives with you."

  "No, not anymore. If you can go get her, bring her to a hotel or something, I'll pay for it for a few days, but she's going to have to find another place to live."

  "So you're throwing her out? Where do you expect her to go?"

  "I don't care where she goes. She can go back home! Are you going to bail her out or not? They took her downtown."

  "Why'd you call me?"

  "Aren't you her friend?"

  I thought of the last time I spoke to her. She was so naïve, but I hadn’t wanted to argue with her any further. Either she would eventually come around, or she wouldn’t. Only now she’d apparently beaten the shit out of a no-doubt deserving Bianca.

  Well, everyone had their limits.

  "Fine, I'll go get her. She can stay at my place until she gets things sorted. You know, Jake, you're a real piece of shit."

  I hung up before he could say another word. I changed and sent Genie a quick text to let her know of the potential new living arrangements, not that it would matter much to her. I got into my truck and drove the short distance to the precinct. I spoke to the officer on duty. He told me to sit and wait. I texted the asswipe to have Bianca phone me ASAP. She did a few minutes later.

  "How are you?" I asked.

  "How do you think I am?" she cried. "I've lost a tooth, I have a broken nose and two black eyes. I'm fucking fabulous."

  "I'm sorry this happened to you, but I don't want you to press charges." My tone was matter of fact. I didn't want her to think I cared about her face.

  "Not you too! No fucking way that bitch is getting off."

  I kept the calm approach. "Bianca, it would be in your best interest to drop this. I'm going to guess you did something to provoke Emma, and while that doesn't excuse her actions, I know that you've also done some pretty stupid things in the past. Stuff you wouldn't want dredged up. So I want you to call whichever officer took your statement and tell him you've had an epiphany."

  A long silence followed. She knew what I meant. "I really hate you," she seethed, finally. "You better tell her to watch her back. I mean it, Zach."

  "Bianca, let it go. It's over. Let's call this even."

  "She ruined my face. We aren't even. She crosses me again she won't know what hit her."

  The line went dead.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EMMA

  While I regretted what I did to Bianca, I still thought she deserved it as I was hauled away by two less-than-impressed police officers. It was then that I realized I was in some serious trouble. I was booked, fingerprinted, and escorted to a holding cell.

  That's when the waterworks started. I sobbed alone, thinking of Dad and Grandpa and what they'd say when they found out. I hadn't called Dad yet. It was nearing three in the morning and I wasn't about to scare him and Grandpa half to death by calling in the middle of the night. I was going to spend a night in jail, like a criminal. I'd have a record that would follow me forever. I'd be unemployable and living with Dad and Grandpa while working the rest of my life at Andrew's Antiques.

  Wailing like a two-year-old without her pacifier, I hadn't seen the officer standing in front of me. I hadn't even heard the cell door open.

  "Andrews, stop crying," he said somewhat sympathetically.

  My chest heaved and I sniffled a few times. The officer shook his head and huffed. "Charges have been dropped. You're free to go."

  "What?" Did I hear him right?

  "Charges were dropped. You can go home. So, off you go. Collect your belongings and please stay out of trouble."

  "She isn't going to press charges?"

  "That's what I said. Consider yourself lucky."

  "I can't believe it."

  "Believe it. You dodged a bullet, young lady."

  In a fog I filled out some papers and had my watch, purse, and phone returned to me. I wandered out to the main hallway, checking my phone for messages, and there he was. I nearly walked into him. Why had I even considered the idea that Jake would be the one waiting for me?

  "Hi, Zach," I said meekly.

  His brown eyes were staring back at me, firing imaginary bullets that hurt as if they were real. His jeans and white shirt looked disheveled, as if he'd dressed in haste. A five-o'clock shadow had already formed on his face.

  "Hi, Emma."

  "Were you in the neighborhood?" I asked, attempting some bad humor.

  He frowned. "This is hardly the time to joke."

  My cheeks flushed with shame. "I know."

  "You're really lucky, you know that, right? I had to persuade Bianca to drop the charges."

  "You did that for me?" I asked. His gesture touched me to the point of tears. He cared, at least a little.

  "Yes. Emma, what is wrong with you? Why would you hit her?"

  I opened my mouth to protest, but stopped. He was in no mood to listen to my defense. "I don't know. She provoked me and I snapped. Did you talk to Jake? Is he really mad?"

  "Yes to both your questions. He's kicking you out and you have until morning to collect your stuff from the
apartment. I can take you there now to get your things."

  My jaw dropped. My stuff? Kicking me out? This was happening too fast. Where would I go? How would I tell Dad? Seeing the panic on my face, Zach continued.

  "You can stay with me until you have things figured out."

  My suppressed tears sprang from my eyes. I quickly wiped them away not wanting Zach to see me as more of a mess than I already was. Jake had finally turned his back on me and our lifelong friendship for Bianca. She didn't love him the way I did and now I was out of the apartment, the way she wanted it.

  "Emma, don't worry," Zach said, dropping the edge from his voice.

  I shook my head. "Jake will never forgive me for this."

  "I won't lie; he was pretty pissed off."

  We stepped out into the cool early November air. I wrapped my jacket tightly around myself as the remaining tears on my face froze. My feet crunched through the leaves as I followed Zach to his SUV and got inside. We set out for my apartment. Well, my former apartment.

  "What did he say?" I finally asked.

  "Not much. He told me you punched Bianca in the face and that he was meeting her at the hospital. He was flipping out and told me that he wanted you out of the apartment and that if I didn't help you, no one would."

  That summed it up all right. "How did you convince her not to press charges?"

  "I asked her not to."

  His tone was casual, like he'd asked Bianca for a cigarette. "And it was that easy?"

  "Bianca and I have an understanding."

  It sounded ominous, but I wasn't about to pursue it. "Jake's never going to speak to me again, is he?"

  "Sure he will. Once Bianca dumps him."

  "Why can both you and I see that, but not him?"

  "He's in love. Sucker."

  I stole a glance at Zach. His focus was firmly on the road. "Thanks for helping me. I owe you big time."

  "I think you're being unfairly treated."

  "No, you feel sorry for me."

  He looked over at me. "As much as I don't condone what you did tonight, I'm sorry I wasn't there to see it."