by J. Daniels
“How did you know my name to search for me?”
I lean over the island, running my finger along the back of the photo. “Your names are on the back.” She turns it over, and smiles. “I got lucky. I really didn’t think I would find you on Facebook, but I had to try.” I look over at Danny. “What’s your last name?”
“McGill,” he answers, dropping a kiss to Hattie’s head. “This stubborn woman never would take my name.”
“And thank God I didn’t,” she teases, pushing playfully against his chest. “Beth never would’ve found me if I wasn’t still Hattie Davis.” Her smile fades when she gazes back at the picture in her hand. She stares at it longingly.
“Annie was always troubled. Even when we were little, she just never quite fit in. Not with us, anyway. She found other people, the wrong kind of people to fit in with. She took off when she was fifteen, and at that point, my mother was too tired to care where she went. I figured she would come back, maybe after a few months, but she never came home.” Her eyes reach mine, the sadness blistering behind them. “It was drugs, wasn’t it? It was drugs that killed her.”
I swallow heavily, dropping my gaze to my lap. “The paramedics said she had a heart attack, most likely brought on by whatever she took. I don’t know if it was too much, or maybe it had something in it.” I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, I don’t really have any details. I couldn’t afford an autopsy to find out what exactly happened.”
Arms wrap around me from behind, squeezing me gently. “Oh, darlin,’ I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone. All of it. Please know, if we had known about you, we would’ve been there,” Hattie says against my hair. “I can’t imagine how hard your life has been.”
“It really wasn’t too bad until after she died.”
Hattie claims the stool next to me, covering my hand with hers. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I look from her to Danny, who seems just as interested in the life that lead me here as my blood relative. He’s focused, his eyes dilated in concentration as they remain trained on me.
I give him a thankful smile before looking away.
“There’s not a lot to talk about, really,” I begin, letting my eyes lose focus on the island. “I couldn’t afford to stay in the trailer after she died, so I started living out of my car.”
I take in a deep breath, thinking back to the first night I crawled into my back seat and tried to close my eyes. The noises in the dark. The utter loneliness that awakened a fear inside me I’ve never experienced before.
My chest tightens with emotion, but I mask it and continue.
“That was scary. I’ve never been alone before. Even though she stayed high most of the time, Momma was still always around, and we always had a home. Not having anybody to talk to was probably the hardest thing.” I look over at Hattie, watching the tears stream down her cheeks. I don’t want to cry, so I quickly avert my gaze back to the island. “I would’ve gone crazy if I sat in that car all day, so I wandered around a lot. I cleaned myself up in gas station bathrooms, and I kept moving my car to different parking lots so no one called the cops on me. I didn’t have a lot of money, just a wad of cash I found in the trailer before I got evicted. I tried to get a job but apparently, having an address is vital when it comes to employment.” I shake my head, remembering the looks on the manager’s faces when I told them my address was a McDonald’s parking lot.
Hattie squeezes my hand gently.
“I’m sure that’s not the only reason why they didn’t hire me. I know I didn’t look that great after not having a real shower in several days, and I probably smelled worse. I really tried to stretch my money, but I was . . . I was just so hungry.”
Danny slides the pancakes closer to me, and a laugh bubbles in the back of my throat.
“Danny, let her finish,” Hattie scolds with a soft voice.
He leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t like thinking about my niece starving, or the fact that she had to go through all that hard life shit by herself. It shouldn’t have happened. Hearing about it makes me want to go have a smoke.”
“You better not! You’re going on three weeks without one.”
“It’s okay. I only went a few days without any food.”
My words don’t seem to ease his discomfort whatsoever. If anything, he seems to become even more uneasy, running both hands down his face and blowing out a harsh exhale.
“Go ahead, Beth.” Hattie gives me a gentle smile, removing her hand from mine and placing it into her lap. “What happened after that?”
“Rocco happened,” I reply, the words spilling from my lips.
Danny clenches his jaw tight and begins pacing back and forth between the counter and the island. Over and over, his heavy boots stomping against the wood. I’m not sure what has him so worked up. I haven’t told my aunt hardly anything about Rocco, but it’s almost as if he knows, or suspects I’ve endured worse things than going days without a meal.
I decide to get through this last part as quickly as possible.
“He found me, crying in my car after I’d gone several days without any food. I was kinda defeated at that point. I guess he saw how hungry I was, or maybe I just looked homeless. I was trying to sleep, trying to take my mind off my stomach cramps when he came up to my window with one of every item from the Burger King menu. I normally wouldn’t take anything from a stranger. I’m not stupid, but I was desperate, and very hungry. And he was . . .” I close my eyes for a moment, almost ashamed to admit this next part. “He was really handsome. No girl in their right mind would say no to a hot guy holding a bag of free food.”
I shake my head at myself as Hattie laughs softly next to me.
Danny continues to pace, not finding my humor at all funny.
“Anyway, he sat with me and talked to me while I ate. I was so happy to have someone to talk to. I didn’t want him to leave. I actually panicked when I thought he was getting out of the car. I just . . . I hated being alone, and I didn’t want to be alone anymore. Plus, what was going to happen to me? I was going to have to start stealing food, or finding ways to get money. I didn’t know if I would ever see him again, and no one else had ever stopped to offer me help.”
I picture the look on Rocco’s face when I reached for him, begging him not to leave me. The smile that twisted across his lips as I wrapped my hand around his arm. Now I know, he got off on that.
He saw my vulnerability, and he took advantage of it.
“I almost couldn’t believe it when he asked me if I wanted a place to stay. He offered me his home, food, and money for as long as I needed. He didn’t ask for anything in return, and he was so nice to me. I know I had a choice, but I felt like I couldn’t say no. I was scared to be alone, and I liked him.” I feel every muscle in my body tense at the memory. My voice softens. “I really liked him. I moved in that day, and everything seemed pretty close to perfect for a little while.” I look over at Hattie, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears. “I never would’ve stayed with him if I had somewhere else to go, but I couldn’t . . . Aunt Hattie, I couldn’t go back to living out of my car.”
Danny halts his pacing, and moves to stand directly across from me. “I’m gonna ask you somethin,’ and I want you to be straight with me.”
Hattie flattens her hands on the island, leaning forward. “Danny.”
He looks over at her. “No, I’m askin.’ She’s our niece, and if I have to go handle some asshole in Kentucky for puttin’ his hands on her, I’m doin’ it.”
“Oh, no. He didn’t . . . he never hit me.” I look between the two of them, Hattie’s eyes regarding me with suspicion. She doesn’t believe me, and by the rough exhale coming from Danny, I’m doubting he does either.
“Rocco never touched me unless I let him,” I admit, dropping my head to avoid the judgment in their eyes. “Our relationship, or whatever it was, it was more about me needing him for things, and him knowing
I needed him. He talked down to me a lot, but he never hit me.” I look at Hattie, then at Danny. “Never. I swear.”
“He sounds like a real charmer,” Hattie says through a tight jaw. “So, he verbally abused you? Is that what you’re saying?”
I shrug, and Danny pounds his fist on the island, startling Hattie and myself.
“I need a goddamn smoke.”
“No, you don’t.” Hattie stands and walks around the island, placing a hand to his chest. “Beth is fine. She’s here, with us. She’s not with that man anymore.”
“He won’t come after you?” Danny asks me, his chest heaving with each breath he takes.
I shake my head, adamantly. “No. I know him. He’d never do that.”
“You’re sure? ‘Cause if you think you’re in danger, I need to know about it.”
“I’m sure,” I vow, my voice steady. “Rocco would never come after me. I promise, Uncle Danny. I would never bring danger here. If I thought he’d do something, I’d leave.”
“You need to get that thought outta your head, ‘cause you’re not goin’ anywhere,” he corrects me, his tone final and sounding how I imagine a father would sound, talking to his daughter.
He grabs the plate of neglected pancakes and sticks them into the microwave, hitting a few buttons.
I look over at Hattie, waiting for her to soften his words somehow with her own version of them, but the only thing she gives me is a limp shrug.
You’re on your own, darlin.’
The microwave beeps, and he grabs the plate of pancakes and sets them back down in front of me. He flips open the cap on the syrup, holds it over the top of the tall stack, and waits for me to nod before he begins to pour.
“If you think that asshole is plannin’ on doin’ somethin,’ you tell me. I got a couple cop buddies I can call up.” He flips the cap closed and sets the bottle down, his other hand sliding the knife and fork in front of me. “You hear me, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” I answer, avoiding his eyes like a child who’s just been scolded.
“Any man who talks down to a woman, who puts his hands on her or does anything to make her feel inferior to him, ain’t a man in my book.”
I lift my head, meeting his gaze that has gentled considerably.
“I’ll have no problem teachin’ him some manners. You just let me know.” He holds his hand out to me, and the second I place mine in his, he slides his grip to the back of my hand and presses my palm against the silverware. “Eat. No more starvin’ for you.”
I love this man.
Danny walks over to Hattie and kisses her temple. “I’ll see ya in a few hours, babe.”
“Hold off the crazies for me.”
Danny gives me a rough pat on my head before he exits the kitchen, heading in the direction of the front door.
After fixing the mess he just made of my hair, I cut into the top two pancakes and shove a massive bite in my mouth. Hattie moves to stand across from me.
“Good?” she asks through a proud smile, as if she already knows the answer.
Sweet Mother of Bisquick.
I close my eyes through a moan as the buttermilk deliciousness bursts against my tongue. “Mm mmm. Sooo, so good,” I say through my mouthful, wiping the back of my hand across my chin when I feel the syrup running down my face.
I don’t care in the least that I probably look like a savage right now as I open my eyes and shovel another huge bite into my mouth. I’ve never been a modest eater. Besides, I think the greatest compliment you can give someone who cooked for you is showing them just how much you’re enjoying their food. And that’s exactly what I’m doing. Enjoying the hell out of my food.
I animatedly chew my mouthful as Hattie watches me, amused grin in place.
She drinks the last of her tea and deposits the glass into the sink behind her. Her hands smooth down the front of her white blouse that’s tucked into her jeans. Looking at Hattie is like looking at a healthy version of my momma. Her frame isn’t rail thin from the years of drug use. Her teeth aren’t decayed, or chipped, or missing. She’s beautiful. She’s what my momma should’ve been to the world, even though I always saw it.
“I’m going to be heading to work in a few hours. Everything in this house, the TV, the computer, all of it is yours to use. You don’t need to ask permission.” Hattie moves around the island and stops next to me, pushing in the stool she was occupying during my trip down memory lane.
“Where do you work?” I ask, licking the syrup off my lips.
“Danny and I own a pub in town. It’s this sweet little honky tonk bar.”
I smile, swinging my legs so that I’m facing her. “Oh really? Like line dancing and stuff?”
“Sometimes. There’s a bit of a rock crowd there too, so not too much line dancing.” She runs the back of her hand along my cheek, a gentle smile warming her face. “Are you gonna be okay by yourself?”
I want to say yes. The word is right there, on the tip of my tongue, but it won’t come out. It’s ridiculous, I know. I won’t be alone for that long, but for some reason, I can’t force myself to be okay with being alone for even a few minutes.
She cups my face with both hands. “You’re coming with me.”
I open my mouth to protest, because I don’t want her to feel like I’m some burden she has to babysit, but she speaks before I get a chance to so much as take in a breath.
“Anytime you want to tag along with me and Danny, you just let us know. You’re always welcome with us, Beth. Always, okay?”
She wants me there. I’m not a burden.
“Okay.”
“You better eat up,” she says, nodding toward the plate in front of me as she drops her hands to her side. “You’re gonna be subjected to bar food tonight.”
I smile at the thought of greasy burgers and fries covered in cheese as her footsteps trail off behind me.
Hell yes. Bring on the bar food.
Reed
“COFFEE?”
I look up from the counter I’m sitting at, peering over at Tessa as she stands at the Keurig. The dark blue, four sizes too big T-shirt she’s wearing has Ruxton Police Department in bold yellow letters displayed on the back. It’s tied in a knot at her waist, meeting the rolled up sweats she’s swimming in. I’m guessing everything on her belongs to Luke. There’s no way in hell Tessa owns any clothing that doesn’t show off her body one way or the other. I’ve known her since high school, and even though I’ve never seen her naked, I’ve gotten pretty damn close with some of that skimpy shit she wears.
She meets my gaze over her shoulder, holding up a mug. “You want some?”
“No, I already had several cups, thanks.”
I look around the kitchen as she goes about making her cup. It’s so homey in here, lived in, and warm. The whole house is. The wood on the cabinets is weathered with little nicks in it, the wall has one of those growth charts etched onto the paint with pencil, depicting Luke’s growth spurts, and one recent measurement of Tessa. If someone would’ve told me this was where hard-ass Luke Evans grew up, I wouldn’t have believed them. I always pictured him living in the Alabama backwoods like a savage, eating squirrels and small children. But with Tessa living here with him, it fits. Maybe it’s because they’re together, I don’t know. But it works.
“So, what’s up, and why aren’t you in bed with one of your whores?” She gives me a playful look over her shoulder, softening the blow of her dig.
I clasp my hands in front of me. “One of my whores? For your information, the woman I brought home last night was in law school.”
“Oh, perfect. She’ll know how to properly sue your ass for sexual harassment.” She giggles at her crack up, reaching across the island to mess up my hair. “Kidding. Sorry, but you pretty much set that one up perfectly.”
I bat her hand away with a glare. “Can we be serious for a second? Please?”
She brings her coffee mug up to her mouth, hiding her smile. “Yes. Very serious.”
I take a minute to calm my nerves, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension that’s beginning to settle between them. “Molly is back in town.” Our eyes connect, hers doubling in size. “My sister saw her at Costco yesterday. I don’t know if she’s back for good, ‘cause Riley didn’t talk to her, but she was buying food, so . . . what the fuck?”
Tessa leans against the counter, her finger steadily tapping her mug while she stares at a spot on the floor. “Really?”
I nod, causing her to look over at me when I don’t give her a verbal response.
“And this is bothering you because . . .”
I bring my hands to my lap, keeping them folded together. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that this town is too fucking small to avoid her.”
“So what. You’re over her, right?”
I squeeze my hands together in my lap. “Yeah,” I reply, my voice hardening.
Tessa sets the mug down on the island and drums the counter with her fingers. “You’re such a shit liar, Reed. You wouldn’t be here, stressing the fuck out, if you were over her.”
“I’m not stressing out!” I clamp my eyes shut, taking in a deep breath while the one person I thought I could talk to about this laughs quietly across from me.
I need new fucking friends.
“I’m actually happy about this.”
I slowly open my eyes. “What?” I ask, dragging out the word.
Tessa piles her long, red hair on top of her head and secures it with the band around her wrist. “You said it. This is a small town, which means, the chances of me having the amazing opportunity of running her bitch-ass over with my car is actually looking really good right now. With her living in another state, that probably would never happen. And, I’m sleeping with a cop, so . . . that’s like an automatic get-out-of-jail-free card.” She shrugs her shoulders before picking up her mug. “I can pretty much get away with murder here.”
