by Nikki Ash
“I-I have a bad past.”
“Okay. Why don’t you come with me to pick up Lexi from school? We can grab a bite to eat and we can talk more after I lay her down for a nap. School’s kicking her butt. Not enough coloring and too much math and writing. She swears her brain needs to sleep when she gets home.” My last line is meant to lighten the mood and it works. Charlie grants me a beautiful watery smile.
“Poor thing. Doesn’t the teacher understand a creative mind can’t be tied down with numbers and letters?”
“My daughter just might be the first preschool dropout.”
She giggles and the sound does shit to my insides.
We walk back to the gym and I have Charlie wait for me by my truck while I let Brent know I won’t be back today. On my way out, I spot Mason heading toward the locker room. “You and me…we’re chatting later.” He nods in understanding.
Charlie is quiet on the way to Lexi’s preschool. It’s a small private school near Koreatown, so it only takes a few minutes to get there. When I pull up, Charlie asks me to go in by myself so she can have a few minutes to pull herself together before Lexi sees her.
Lexi’s in class playing with a couple of kids whose parents haven’t picked them up yet. When I walk in, she spots me immediately, dropping whatever toy she was holding, and running over to me. “Daddy!” she shrieks in excitement. I bend down to give her a hug, her little arms wrapping around my neck as I pull her into my arms, taking her up with me as I stand.
“My brain hurts, Daddy! I did a whole big page of counting a million numbers and shapes and colors! I had to count all the pretzels and candies before I could eat them.” She huffs and I stifle my laugh.
“Sounds like a busy day.”
We say goodbye to her teacher and when we get to the truck, I open the back door so she can climb into her booster seat. I know the minute she notices Charlie in the truck, because even with the door closed, I can hear the excited sound of Lexi shrieking.
When I get around to my side, I open the door and Lexi is already telling Charlie all about her being forced to count before being allowed to eat. This time, though, her story is played out even more dramatic and Charlie is a good sport, going along with it. Her eyes widen at the right times and when Lexi’s hands come up to her head to emphasize her brain hurting, Charlie covers her mouth with her hand.
“Oh no! Then I guess we can’t go where I was thinking of going.” Charlie pouts. I have no idea what she’s talking about or where she was planning on going.
I quirk a brow up and she winks.
“Well…maybe my brain doesn’t hurt so much,” Lexi says slowly.
“No? Oh, thank goodness. Because I saw this flyer”—She pulls a piece of paper out of her purse—“and it says today until five o’clock there’s a huge art show at the museum.”
“Nope! My brain doesn’t hurt anymore!” Lexi shakes her head. “Can we go, Daddy? Please?”
Charlie hands me the flyer. “It was on the bulletin board in the neighborhood. I thought maybe we can go and then get something to eat.” She pauses suddenly and I look up from reading the flyer to look at her. Her teeth are nervously worrying her bottom lip and I don’t like it. It’s one thing to be shy or nervous because you don’t know someone but if my suspicions are correct, Charlie’s nervousness is due to abuse. She’s unsure of whether I’ll get upset at her suggestion. “I’m so sorry! I should’ve asked you first…”
“Stop. It’s a great idea. Let’s go.”
“Okay, but I really am sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I know better than that…”
It sounds like she’s going to say more but she doesn’t.
“Hey.” I turn toward her. “In a way, you’re right. It’s always best to talk about plans with each other before mentioning it to the kid in case it can’t happen, but you wouldn’t know that. You don’t have kids. And you were obviously excited to share this with her. It’s all good.”
Charlie frowns but nods. She buckles in and looks out the window not saying anything more the entire drive to the art museum in Pasadena. The woman is way too hard on herself and it needs to stop. Sometimes her actions show her strength, like the night she came over, when she drank and climbed onto my lap. I know she was drunk, but you know what they say: The drunk mind speaks a sober heart.
Or when she looks so sad but holds it together for my daughter. Some might think the tears are a sign of weakness but the way she holds them back, refusing to let them fall and show her sadness, it’s a strength. Other times, she wears her weaknesses on her sleeve. Running from the gym is the perfect example. I don’t know what has her afraid but I’m going to make it my mission to take those weaknesses and turn them all into strengths. My mom was abused by my biological father when I was a baby but she refused to be weak. However, she had her friends and family, and then Kaden came into the picture. Charlie doesn’t seem to have anybody. But she does now. She has me and Lexi, and if she lets us in, we’ll be there for her. Which reminds me…
“Charlie.” She turns toward me. “Don’t think I forgot about us needing to talk later.” She nods in understanding.
We spend the afternoon at the museum and both girls are in art heaven. There’s painting and coloring. They have games and takeaways—arts and crafts the kids can make and take home. Lexi paints a ceramic unicorn and Charlie paints a candy corn. They’re laughing and having a blast. I spot an art book I’d like to get for Lexi, so I lean down to Charlie and whisper into her ear, making sure Lexi can’t hear me, “I’m going to go to the bookstore real quick.”
Her head pops up, a frown quickly forming. “No!” she shouts loud enough that everyone sitting at the table, painting, looks over.
“No, you need to stay here.” She speaks softer this time but her voice is wobbly, almost fearful. Not wanting to make a scene, I nod in understanding and stay seated.
After the girls are done painting, their pieces are sprayed with a sealant and we make our way out. I stop by the bookstore as I had planned but instead of surprising Lexi, I show it to her. She loves it and the entire drive home she shows the pages to Charlie.
“Dinner?” I ask to make sure we’re still on the same page, and Charlie smiles in agreement. During the week, I usually cook, so once we’re inside I go about making dinner as I normally would. When I come out to check on them, after throwing the stuffed peppers into the oven, I spot Lexi and Charlie on the couch watching television. Lexi is fast asleep, her little legs sprawled out over Charlie’s thighs. Her arms are over her head and she’s snoring softly.
“She fell asleep a few minutes ago.”
Picking her up, I bring her to her room and lay her down under the blankets. It’s already almost seven so more than likely she’ll be out for the night. Luckily, she ate a ton of snacks at the museum so she won’t wake up too hungry in the morning.
Once I’m done putting Lexi to bed, I set out a couple of plates and silverware, then check the fridge to see what I can offer Charlie to drink. “We have beer, juice, milk, or water.”
“A beer actually sounds good. It’s been years since I’ve had one.” I grab two beers from the fridge, handing one to Charlie, who is still sitting on the couch watching a kid show.
“The peppers have about thirty minutes. Can we talk now?” I turn the television off and sit down next to Charlie. She takes a long sip of her beer and nods. “You mentioned you have a bad past. Can you elaborate?”
Charlie chugs half the beer, closes her eyes, and then after taking a deep breath, she reopens them. Her words come out robotic but at least I’ve finally got her talking. “I was in an abusive relationship for several years. I left him almost ten months ago.”
“Emotionally or physically?”
“Both. Most days I feel like I’m healing, finally getting over the way he treated me, but I guess seeing two people fighting, purposely hurting each other, triggered memories I’ve been trying to leave in the past.”
“I know the fighting looks bad but I
can assure you Mason isn’t a violent man. He would never hurt someone outside of the gym.”
“Do you fight?”
“No. I train the fighters occasionally. Mostly Mason. I grew up in a gym but I don’t fight anymore.”
“I think the fighting just caught me off guard,” she admits. “I walked in and they were beating the crap out of each other. Flashbacks of being hit came back in full force.”
Taking her small hands in mine, I scoot closer. “Thank you for opening up to me. For telling me.” Charlie nods silently. “I want to help you.” When she doesn’t say anything, I continue. “Come in to the gym after hours and I’ll give you self-defense lessons. Just you and me. I read that many women in abusive relationships learn to defend themselves. It helps to make them feel stronger. And while you’re there, you can do the pictures for the website.”
“You read about abusive women?” Shit! I shouldn’t have added that part. I might as well come clean.
“You showed some signs…flinching when the picture fell…I didn’t want to assume but I had a feeling. I was hoping I was wrong but I did some research just in case I was right.”
“Why would you do that?” She doesn’t sound mad, more like in awe, which confuses me. Needing her closer to me, I pick her up and place her onto my lap, her legs straddling me.
“Because I want you in my life. I don’t care if it’s as a friend or something more.” Please, let it one day be something more…
“There’s…things in my past. I’m not good for you and I’m definitely not good for Lexi.” Her head drops and I pick it up, forcing her to look at me.
“Let me be the judge of that.”
Charlie moves slightly against me and my dick twitches at the friction between our bodies, not getting the memo this isn’t meant to be a sexually intimate moment. I inwardly groan and move Charlie back onto the couch so I can take the peppers out of the oven. She needs me to go slow. She’s only been away from the abuse for less than a year and I need to remember that.
As I’m standing up, her hand grips my arm. “Thank you.” She leans in and places a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you for caring enough to look into it.”
As we’re sitting down to eat, Mason comes strolling in. “Honey buns! I’m home and I smell something delicious!” He enters the dining room and grins when he spots Charlie. “Oh…am I interrupting something?”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Yeah, a peaceful dinner. Peppers are on the stove. Grab some and join us.”
Sitting down with a plate of stuffed peppers, Mason asks the obvious. “Where’s my Lexi girl?”
“She had a big day. School and the art museum. She’s asleep.”
“I’m sure she’ll be sad she missed your stuffed peppers,” Mason jokes because Lexi hates all things healthy.
“You care to explain what happened at the gym today?” I take a bite of my food.
Mason waves it off. “Isaac was just pissed I—” He looks over to Charlie, smirks, and he says, “caught his fish.”
I groan. “Bro, stop using that damn term!”
“Oh, my god!” Charlie throws her head back in laughter. “I haven’t heard that in years. Catch and release, right?”
“See! Even your woman thinks it’s clever.”
Since Charlie doesn’t look uncomfortable at the assumption she’s my woman, I don’t comment on it.
“When I was in college at A&M, guys would say that, or some of the cowboys would refer to it as steer roping.”
Mason chortles. “That’s a good one! I like you.” He points to Charlie. “What are you doing with this serious guy? You should let me take you out and show you a good time.” He winks, and if I thought he was serious, I’d reach over and punch him.
“Ha! I think I’m good. I prefer the dry land if you catch my drift.” She winks back at Mason and it’s fucking adorable.
“Oh, but I can assure you, the wetter the better,” Mason volleys back. They playfully shoot fishing innuendos back and forth while we finish dinner. Charlie’s personality is coming out more and more and it’s definitely a sight to behold.
“I’m in for the night. Why don’t I watch Lexi while you bring Charlie home?”
I look to Charlie and she’s suddenly shy. Not wanting her to feel obligated to invite me up, I say, “All right. If I end up staying out later, I’ll let you know.”
As we’re bringing the dishes to the sink, out walks a sleepy Lexi. “Daddy…my tummy is growling so loudly.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’ll get you something to eat.”
“Thank you.” She looks around and adds, “But my tummy isn’t growling for peppers.”
Charlie giggles. “What is your belly growling for, silly girl?” she asks.
Realizing for the first time, Charlie’s still here, Lexi smiles. “Charlie! You’re here. Did my daddy make you eat peppers?” Her nose scrunches up.
“I am and he did. But they were so delicious.”
Lifting her onto the counter, I set her down then set out to make her a sandwich.
“My belly doesn’t like peppers. It likes…peanut butter and fluff!” She smiles brightly. My daughter thinks she’s so slick, and if she hadn’t been sleeping through dinner, I would’ve made her eat them, but it’s already after eight and I’m not about to fight that battle.
“It does, does it?” Charlie giggles some more at Lexi’s antics.
“Lexi girl! What are you doing awake?” Mason walks into the kitchen, giving Lexi a kiss on her forehead.
“My belly was screaming so loudly, Uncle Mason.”
“What was it screaming?”
“Peanut butter and fluff!” She says it in a squeaky voice pretending it’s her belly doing the talking.
Mason chuckles, handing me the marshmallow fluff. I make her a sandwich and pour her a glass of milk.
“Go ahead and take off, man. I’ll wait for her to eat then put her back to bed.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, go.” He turns to Lexi. “Look what came in the mail today?” He holds up the package we’ve been waiting on from Amazon.
“Yess!! Is that my costume? Gimme!!!” She puts her hands out, her tiny fingers wiggling in excitement. Mason stretches his arm out before pulling it back quickly.
“What’s the magic word?”
“Please!” she shrieks and he hands the bag over.
Lexi rips the bag open. “Look!” she squeals holding out her costume. She changed her mind over a dozen times, and by the time she finally knew what she wanted to be, the costume store was sold out. Thank fuck for Amazon’s next day shipping.
“Wow! Lexi, that costume is awesome.” Charlie takes it from Lexi and assesses it. It’s a painter’s cap, an apron covered in splattered paint, and to finish the costume, there’s a paintbrush and an artist palette.
“It’s an artist!” Lexi says through mouthfuls of sandwich she’s scarfing down. She swallows another bite and then says, “Charlie! Can you go trick or treating with us?”
Charlie sets Lexi’s costume down slowly. “Umm…well…”
“Lexi,” I say, cutting off Charlie because this is starting to sound a lot like the last time Lexi invited her somewhere, and it’s not fair to put her in that position again. I imagine she likes kids well enough because she wouldn’t have recommended we take Lexi to the art museum if she didn’t, but for some reason, she seems to get uncomfortable when we invite her places. “Charlie doesn’t have kids, so she probably doesn’t want to spend her night trick-or-treating.” Lexi pouts but doesn’t argue.
“I need to bring Charlie home. Mason’s going to stay with you. Finish your sandwich and then it’s bedtime.”
“Thank you, Daddy, for the costume!” She gives me a hug before pulling me down by my shirt so she can kiss my cheek.
“You’re welcome, Lex. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I set her down on the ground and she runs over to Charlie, wrapping her arms around her waist.
“Bye, Charlie. See you soon! And I hope you come with me trick-or-treating.”
“Bye, sweet girl.”
I pull up in front of where Charlie lives and I can see how nervous she looks so I don’t ask to come up. Instead I ask, “When’s your next day off?”
“Umm…Sunday.”
“How about Sunday afternoon I’ll make sure the gym is cleared out and you can take your pictures then, and I can teach you a couple moves?”
Charlie nods in agreement, giving me a small smile. “Okay, sounds good.”
Fourteen
Charlie
“Wow! Tristan, this gym looks amazing! And you own it, right?”
It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m standing in the middle of Tristan’s gym. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a gym where people go to practice fighting. When I walked into the gym last week and saw the two guys fighting, I freaked out and ran before getting a good look at the place. For some reason when I imagined the gym, I pictured some dingy warehouse looking area with concrete floors and punching bags. But the gym I’m standing in looks nothing like that.
“Yeah. I bought it a few years ago and had it all renovated.” Tristan smiles proudly.
In one area, there’s a beautiful drink bar where the fighters can order several types of smoothies and shakes. Using the camera Tristan lent me, I snap a bunch of photos.
“I think I should come back and take some photos of the fighters ordering and drinking. It will look more real. But for now, I can use these.”
I walk over to another area that contains what looks like state of the art work out equipment and continue to take picture after picture. Then I move over to the big roped-in area where I saw the two guys fighting the other day, and take some more. Tristan continues to show me around as I snap way more pictures than I will need for the website, to be on the safe side. We go through each locker room, the bathrooms, the physical training room, and then head to an area in the back.
“This is where our classes are held. We have classes for all ages including little kids.” I snap a few pictures. Tristan moves to a small octagon shaped area and steps in. “I was thinking we could practice some moves in here. As you can feel”—he bounces on the balls of his feet—“the floors are soft so you can’t get hurt.” I’m suddenly nervous. I haven’t had a chance to speak to my therapist about this yet, but I’m almost positive she’d tell me this is a good idea. For one, I’ll feel prepared if I’m ever in a situation where a man tries to hurt or overpower me, and two, I’ll feel stronger and more confident knowing I can at least attempt to defend myself.
