by Dee J. Adams
“Your parents could walk in any second,” he panted a minute later, when he lifted his head for a quick burst of air. But she reached up for more of his mouth like the threat didn’t matter.
“So what? We already have a kid. I think they know we kiss. Besides, you and I are—”
“Soppy kisses!” Their daughter squealed and pounced on Jay’s back.
“Boo,” Terry said, laughing. “You were supposed to call me when you finished.”
“Gamma do it.” Which meant Elizabeth had helped her wash up.
Jay loved being sandwiched by his girls. He might not get alone time with Terry right this second, but he had alone time with his family and that was awesome too.
Chapter Three
A dozen students filled the section of the new library. Aisles of books lined the tall shelves surrounding the study area, but Terry barely noticed anyone or anything.
The morning had gone off without a hitch. Terry’s parents got her to school, Lou Ann picked up Jess, and Jay went to his interview. Terry took the time she had before her test to do a last minute review of her notes, but the sparkly ring on her finger kept distracting her.
Engaged. She’d been waiting for the day Jay proposed again. Had told herself not to waste time in saying yes, because he was a great guy and she loved him and one day he might just stop proposing. They’d stayed together for over two years and juggled a baby together. The only thing keeping them apart had been her fears. Her instincts had told her to jump on the proposal, but she hadn’t even considered where they’d live.
His parents’ guesthouse. How could she not see that coming? Sure, it made sense in an economical way, but how was she going to live on the same property with a woman who hated her guts? The first chance she got, Lou Ann would be all over her about ruining everyone’s lives, or spoiling Jess.
Nope, no way did Terry plan to live there. They’d have to come up with another plan. She just had to find the right time—and way—to break it to Jay.
A stack of books slammed on the table and her heart rate tripled as she jumped and spun.
“Hey,” Marcella said, standing next to her. Her long brown hair swung in a single thick ponytail over her shoulder and her heavy, teased bangs, hung into her dark eyes. Her maroon and white tank top had a stain at the bottom. She sounded as surly as Terry’s dad when his football team was losing. Too bad she couldn’t give her new friend a raspberry. Marcella was a loner and Terry hated watching her struggle to be part of the college scene. Neither of them lived on campus and that made it harder to connect with fellow students. They’d bonded over the difficulty of fitting into college life at UC Santa Monica while still living at home.
“Hi. Wow. You scared me. Sorry again about this morning,” Terry said, shoving her notebook over and giving Marcella more room.
But she didn’t budge from her spot. Instead she glared down at Terry with fire in her eyes. “Me too. I lost my job because of you this morning.”
“What?” Terry faced her. “I didn’t know you were scheduled to work? I asked if you were available and you said yes. Why didn’t you tell me? All you had to say was ‘no, I’m already working’ and I would’ve moved on to plan B. Why would you blow off your shift at the last minute like that?”
Marcella held her head in her hands like she might have a raging headache. “Because I knew I could get someone to cover for me, but she never showed up because her car broke down and no one called to tell me. So even though I could’ve made my shift, I lost my job.”
“How is that my fault?” Terry faced her, not liking how Marcella towered over her with the amount of rage emanating from her eyes.
Kicking the chair back, Marcella sat down. “I guess it’s not, but I still lost my job and I’m still pissed.” She slumped forward. “Everything sucks lately and this just tops it. Jess always makes me feel better. She makes me feel needed and like there’s hope for the world. Hope for me.”
“Hope for you?” That sounded cryptic. Terry took her seat again. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Marcella squeezed her eyes shut before answering. “Maybe my life isn’t as rosy as yours, okay?” Her tone took another sharp edge. Although they hadn’t known each other that long and she couldn’t pretend to know Marcella that well, the bite still hurt and had Terry sitting back.
“When has my life been rosy lately? I work my butt off to keep everything in motion. And I’m sorry, but do you have a toddler, school, a job—” she gestured to library itself since she worked here part time, “—and a boyfriend—” who now happened to be a fiancé, but there wasn’t any reason to bring that up, “—demanding your time? Because I can barely keep up with my rosy life.”
Marcella pulled out a travel container of aspirin from her purse and tapped out three small pills, then dry swallowed them. “Then…like relieve yourself from some of it.” Next she smoothed Carmex on her chapped lips. “Quit your job. Or drop a few classes. No one’s making you do it all.”
Terry kept a lid on her gurgling temper. She admitted to having a less-than-normal amount of patience, but when something pissed her off, she didn’t see a reason to hide it. Her mother had been telling her for years, you just never know what someone might be dealing with, so cut them some slack. “Look, my job is partially how I pay for school and if I want to graduate on schedule, then I have to take my current course load.” Why did she feel the need to justify herself to this girl?
“Why’d you even have the baby in the first place?”
Terry all but quit breathing. “What?” Her whispered word didn’t come close to conveying the burst of anger that shot into her chest. Granted, neither Jay nor she had anticipated a pregnancy, but no one had a right to question their decision to have Jess.
For the first time, Marcella seemed to look at her. “I’m sorry,” she said, holding her hands on either side of her head. “I’m just having a bad day. I don’t mean to take it out on you.” She must have had one hell of a headache. “Jess is adorable. You’re lucky to have her. Lucky to have Jay too.” Her eyes turned glassy and Terry realized something else was wrong besides a mondo headache. She hated to check her watch, but she still had a five minute walk to get to her psych test.
“Marcella, what’s the matter?”
“I just wish I had someone to love me like you do. I’ve got so much to give and no one wants me. No one loves me.” Her tears came fast and rolled down her cheeks.
“That’s not true. Your aunt loves you and you’ve got Derek.” But even as Terry said his name, Marcella began shaking her head. Terry didn’t know why Marcella’s parents weren’t in the picture and it had seemed like a touchy subject, so she hadn’t pushed it. “Did something happen with you and Derek?”
Snorting, Marcella, found a tissue in her bag and blew her nose. “The dickweed dumped me last night. We had a huge fight a few days ago, but he just now told me he found someone else and broke it off. And my aunt is not in my life by choice. She got stuck with me when my mom took off. She never wanted kids. My mom said as much. First my dad leaves both of us, then my mom drops me off at my aunt’s for a weekend and conveniently never returns. What does that say about me?”
Dumbfounded, Terry didn’t know how to respond. She chose her words very carefully. “It doesn’t say anything about you. It says more about them.” Terry leaned in close, knowing she didn’t have much time to get her point across before leaving. “Look, you’re smart, you’re pretty, you’re responsible. You’re going to meet someone who sees all of that and wants you for you.”
“So far the only person who sees me for myself and loves me is your daughter.” Marcella blew her nose in the ratty tissue.
“That’s not true. You’ve got me. Look, I’m sorry. My mother-in-law yanked my chain so I ended up yanking yours. Things will turn around. I’ll talk to my mom and see if she can use some help at the youth center. You won’t make tips like you did at the coffee shop, but it’s a job.” She wished she had something else to che
er her up. “Maybe the three of us girls will have an ice cream date when we get back. Jess would be totally into that.”
Marcella nodded. “Sounds good. Thanks.” A whisper of a smile curved her lips. “I love the way she says my name. Mawla. It almost sounds like Mama. She’s just like the cutest thing ever.” Marcella gestured toward the door. “You should go or you’ll be late for psych. I’ll see you later.”
Sighing, Terry gave her a quick hug. “Actually, I’ll see you next week.” She stuffed her books in her backpack. “I’ll tell you all about Big Bear over that ice cream.” She waved and took off.
Marcella watched Terry book out of the library. Everything about her was perfect. She had the perfect body, the perfect guy, the perfect baby, the perfect supporting parents. Everything Marcella lacked. Because you’re a loser. The thought ricocheted in her head and she clenched her jaw to fight it. That’s all she did lately…fight the damn voice in her head.
She really liked Terry. Marcella had always been an outsider and Terry was the first person to make her feel normal. Like she was worth knowing. Terry asked her opinion, she studied with her, and she even helped her buy clothes. Which you won’t do anymore since she made sure you lost your job.
Terry probably never heard voices in her head, because she was too perfect for that.
Fresh rage bubbled in Marcella’s center and the need for revenge rose with it. She dug in her bag for some clean tissue and came across her empty medication bottle. Thorazine. She should’ve refilled the anti-psychotic days ago, but Derek’s bomb had thrown her off. He’s a loser too, but that didn’t stop him from dumping you. She rubbed her temple to fight the thoughts in her head.
It wasn’t like missing her meds made a difference. Nothing was going to keep Derek from dumping you. Screw it. Screw him. Screw everyone. No one cares if you take this shit anyway, so why bother with it?
She needed to talk to Terry. Needed a shoulder to lean on before the voice in her head drove her crazy. She would’ve chased her down, but Terry couldn’t miss her psych test.
Why even bother with today’s classes? No one’s going to care if you skip a day. Maybe she should go home and crawl into bed. A nap might chase away the nasty thoughts and the roaring headache. She deserved a long weekend. Between her job and classes, she hardly had any down time to herself anyway. Maybe it was a good thing she’d been let go from the coffee shop. It just meant something new waited around the corner.
She was due for a serious change. Marcella looked around the library before shoving her books back in her pack. Screw this place and the people who worked here. Without a backward glance, she headed home.
Two buses later, Marcella opened the front door to a small two-bedroom bungalow. The walls had too many pictures and too much furniture filled the small space. She got claustrophobic every time she walked in the door. At least her aunt had a long twelve hour shift at the hospital so Marcella didn’t have to worry about the third degree. The phone rang and she had to dig through the morning paper on the kitchen counter before picking up.
“Is this Marcella?” a guy asked. He had a delicious low voice that instantly had her fantasizing about the package it came in.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“It’s Jay St. John. I’m Terry’s fiancé.”
Terry’s fiancé? Seems as though her friend had failed to mention that little piece of news this morning. You’re not good enough to tell. Fresh anger bubbled in her gut and she worked hard to sound happy. “Hi, Jay. Congrats on that. Terry told me this morning in the library. I’m so happy for you two.”
“Thanks. Listen, I wanted to ask you a huge favor.”
As if. “Okay.”
“We’re headed up to the mountains tonight with Jess, but I wanted to take Terry out on the lake for a romantic night under the stars. Just a couple of hours, but I need someone to watch Jess. I know it’s asking a lot, but do you think you could meet us up there and babysit? I’ll give you directions and there’s a nice little bed and breakfast ten minutes away. I can set you up there for the night so you don’t have to worry about making the drive home afterward and I’ll pay for the gas. What do you say?”
Do it. You’ll get to see Jess. She’s the only one who loves you. Marcella ran a hand over her head and squeezed her scalp. “Wow. I’ve never had an offer like that before.” Say yes, then make sure they pay for screwing with your life. “I just need a second to make sure I can take the time.” Don’t wait. Say yes. Say it now. “You know what… It sounds good to me.” She needed to figure out how to get her aunt’s car for the night. She listened to Jay’s plan about surprising Terry. The more he talked the more she envied her. Terry had no idea what she had in this guy or in her baby girl.
She doesn’t deserve either of them. “Yes, she does,” she mumbled.
“I’m sorry, what?” Jay asked. “Did you say something?”
“No, sorry. Just talking to myself.” After writing the directions to the cabin, Marcella hung up with Jay, promising to be there tonight. It was a chance to see that beautiful kid. A chance to feel needed.
Anger rolled in her gut like molten lava. Terry must have had a good reason for keeping the engagement to herself. Show her the consequences of being a shitty friend.
Marcella shut her eyes and shook her head, but she only made the throbbing pain worse. What was wrong with her? She had to concentrate.
“A car, a car.” She paced the living room. How could she convince her aunt to let her take the car? Or where did she find a different one? She spotted her ninety-year-old neighbor shuffling to the street to get her mail. Her gray hair formed a perfect helmet on her head, and her colorful polyester outfit was probably twenty-five years old. “Perfect.”
Marcella hurried outside to the mailbox before Mrs. Hesby could get to it. “Hi, Mrs. Hesby. How are you today?”
The old woman squinted into the warm sun. “Well…just about how I am every day,” she replied, leaning heavily on her cane. “My arthritis is only getting worse and I can barely move.” She held up a gnarled hand with bent fingers. “That’s how I’m doing.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Marcella handed her the mail. “Can I help you inside?” She hooked her hand around Mrs. Hesby’s boney elbow to steady her as they walked back toward the house. “I haven’t seen you taking the car out lately. Is it in the shop?”
“No,” she snapped. “Those fools at the DMV wouldn’t renew my license last month so I can’t drive anymore. I may have cataracts, but I can drive my damn car. Stupid idiots,” she mumbled.
“Would you like me start it so the battery doesn’t die?” Unless it already was dead, in which case her whole plan was about to fall in the crapper. They reached the front door and Marcella opened it and helped her inside. It smelled old and stale. Just like Mrs. Hesby. The small, ancient television blared with obnoxious commercials and the old furniture needed to be hauled away and tossed in the city dump.
“I don’t know why it matters if I’m not going to be driving it,” Mrs. Hesby said.
“Well, it would be easier to sell if it’s running. People might not want to buy a car with a dead battery.”
Mrs. Hesby swung her head to one side then the next. “Guess I never thought of it like that. Fine. Go start it.” She shuffled to her purse and pulled out an old skimpy key ring with only a few keys. She handed the whole thing to Marcella. “There. But bring ’em right back,” she said.
“For sure.” Marcella went outside to the detached garage and let herself into the stuffy space. Slipping into the old-model blue sedan, she said a quick prayer before cranking the engine. It gave a little hiccup before roaring to life, and Marcella felt her day take a sudden change for the better. She let the engine run for a few minutes before killing it and going back inside.
On the TV, Ray Combs happily joked with the contestants on Family Feud.
“Well,” Mrs. Hesby snapped from her perch on the sofa. “Is it working?”
“It is, yes.” Marce
lla set the keys on the dining room table. So how did she borrow the woman’s car? “Are you hungry, Mrs. Hesby? Can I make you something to eat?” Marcella moved into the kitchen and saw a large cast iron skillet hanging from a row of pegs over the stove. Do it. She flushed at the suggestion in her head. She didn’t need to kill Mrs. Hesby to get her car.
“Well, I do eat my main meal at noon, but I’ve got some leftovers in the fridge I can reheat. No need to trouble yourself.”
Marcella stood in the doorway. “Mrs. Hesby, since your car is running, do you think I could borrow it tonight for a babysitting job?”
The old lady’s gray eyebrows snapped together and Marcella saw her answer before the woman uttered a word. “No. I’m not insured for anyone else to drive my car. Besides, what if you wreck it? You have your aunt’s car. Take that.”
“I can’t. I’ll need it before she gets home.” Just get rid of her. Marcella shook her head to banish the thought.
“Marcella, what’s the matter with you? You look terrible.”
Old bitch needs to die. “I’ve just got a headache,” she said, dragging her palm across her forehead. Sweat beaded across her neck and she wiped it away. Her vision glazed over.
“I think you need to take better care of yourself. You’re not looking healthy.” Mrs. Hesby turned back to her television show and grimaced in pain. “Oh, this damn hip,” she muttered.
Standing behind her, Marcella blinked, but it didn’t help her focus any better on the blurry screen. A roaring started in her ears. Do her a favor. Put her out of her misery.
“Why’re you standing there like that?” Mrs. Hesby said, glancing over her shoulder. “Sometimes I don’t understand you kids today.” She shifted and grimaced again.
You can stop her mindless words forever. Do it. You know you want to.
Marcella ran her hand over her hair before tightening her ponytail. She winced at the burn in her scalp.
