by Fiona West
“Everything okay?” her dad asked, eyeing her. Her heart must have looked as bruised as it felt on behalf of her friend.
“Just more Charlie stupidity,” she said, tucking her phone away to focus on her dad. But he was staring over at the Millers’ table, and she knew the cop in him was pissed.
“She and her kids are welcome at our house, too,” he said gruffly. “Anytime. And I can make a phone call to one of my buddies at the sheriff’s office if—”
“It’s not that kind of mistreatment,” she said with a long sigh. “It’s just her heart that’s getting kicked around.”
CHAPTER NINE
THE NEXT FEW DAYS WENT by quickly for Ainsley. Sunday, she worked on her presentation for the playground improvement committee. Monday, they did a fire drill, which riled the kids up enough to spoil most of the afternoon for real work. Tuesday, Posey threw up during circle time, and they had to send her home and have the janitor come and clean the carpet. Wednesday, her kids had two specials, so she had extra prep time, which she spent cutting out thirty paper pumpkins. That extra time midweek was golden, because it meant she didn’t have to walk Aiden and Emily to the library and then go back to work. Today, that meant a quick grocery run . . . She was down to half a box of Frosted Mini-Wheats. Not enough to get through the next week.
She’d have to go into town; the little grocery store in Timber Falls wouldn’t have what she needed. No matter; it wouldn’t take long. Twenty minutes later, she was grabbing a big cart at the Safeway in Stayton. Kyle Durand was in the produce section, and he nodded to her as she came in. Her stomach dropped a little to see him unexpectedly, but she disregarded the feeling as fatigue after a long week, nothing more. Just to prove to herself that it was nothing, she’d go talk to him.
“Following me again?” she called, shaking her head. “What would my cop father say?”
“I’m afraid to find out,” he said, bringing his cart up next to hers. “How was your week? No more tree-peeing, right?”
“No, we got that sorted out,” she said, shaking open a plastic bag and filling it with Fuji apples. “No worries. How was your week?”
“Fine,” he said, claiming a large bunch of bananas. “I treated a head injury for a man who tried to hang drywall while drunk.”
“Really?” Ainsley laughed. “People are so ridiculous.” Her laughter seemed to encourage him, and he followed her along the side of the store.
“I also saw more children than usual, which is unfortunate. Did you know that patients eighteen and under make up at least a quarter of all visits to the emergency room? I’m actually thinking of taking a safety curriculum around to the schools to see if I can do some presentations. I think it would cut down a lot on accidents. Their parents are clearly not informing them about the kind of hazards they need to be aware of.”
“And what kind of hazards are those?”
“Snakes, poison ivy, electrical cords, burns—saw lots of burns last week for some reason.”
“Well, people lit their woodstoves for the first time in a while, probably.” She paused. “Kids do that, you know. They just get curious and they hurt themselves. I don’t think taking a curriculum around will do any good.” But that was Kyle Durand’s brand of caring: just drown people in safety information, and they’ll feel your love.
“If you say so. But I’m not good with kids like you.” He stared at her, and Ainsley had no idea what he was thinking. I mean, she didn’t usually, so it wasn’t really any different, but now, for the first time in a while, she wished she did.
“And at the end of the night, a woman having a bad reaction to Ambien came in. She kept saying that her thumbs were controlling her. Then she took off her shirt and asked me to rate her breasts on the scale of one to sixteen. That was awkward.”
“No!” She cackled. “What score did you give them?”
“Her husband was standing right there!” he protested, scowling. Delight at being able to tease him a little suffused her chest.
“Come on,” she laughed, nudging him with her elbow. “Just between us. What score?” She held up two grapefruits in front of her chest, and he chuckled, pushing on her shoulder gently.
“Quit it. That’s unprofessional.”
She put the citrus back and pushed her cart forward, but couldn’t resist pressing him a little more. “They were an eight, right? And you didn’t want to hurt her feelings?”
He laughed as he grabbed some whole wheat hamburger buns, pointedly ignoring her continued needling. “Her husband said she also ordered a case of industrial-strength hydrogen peroxide online.”
“Well, she’ll be able to get that bottle blonde look for quite a while on that,” Ainsley said, turning down the booze and cheese aisle. The Chateau St. Michelle wine she wanted was on the top shelf. Ainsley sighed.
“Problem, short stuff?” Kyle smirked.
“No.” She pushed back her shoulders. “It’s no problem.” Putting one foot on the lowest shelf, Ainsley proceeded to climb high enough to grab the bottle she wanted, as Kyle looked on, his face painted with shock.
“I would’ve gotten it for you!”
“I didn’t need you to,” she informed him, flipping her hair. Short girls knew how to get things done. There wouldn’t always be a tall friend around.
Kyle was quiet for a moment as they pushed their carts farther on. “I should see if he wants to sell some of that hydrogen peroxide to my mom,” he mused, “if he can’t cancel it.”
“That’s a good idea,” she agreed, grinning. “How is your mom, by the way?”
“She’s good. You want to come to dinner on Sunday?”
Ainsley froze, her hand almost to the baby brick of pepper jack she’d been reaching for. “Oh. Um, I’m not sure if I should.”
“You used to come when we were younger.”
She waggled her head a little, considering. “That’s true . . .” But we were kids. And Daniel invited me, not you. It didn’t mean anything then. And yet, she’d love to hang out with his family; they were the best. Daniel had asked her once if she had a favorite (besides him), and she honestly couldn’t choose. They were all so great in their own way. She loved Philip’s warm big-brother thing and Kyle’s quiet, dependable way and Maggie’s salty snark. And the parents: she loved how Farrah could turn anything into a celebration and how Evan always had a new dad joke to tell.
“Are you concerned that the host didn’t invite you? I can text her right now.” He was whipping out his phone, and she panicked.
“No, Kyle, don’t. I think I’m already busy, don’t bother her. Maybe another time.”
That seemed to assuage him, but he was quiet as they neared the end of the cereal aisle, and she glanced at him, worried that she’d hurt his feelings. That was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Why don’t you just go back where you came from?” A man’s voice punched through the elevator music playing in the store. She peered around the end of aisle, and her stomach dropped when she saw Bilqiis facing down Ranger Zane alone; she’d know his shaved head and red face anywhere. As she approached, Ainsley tried desperately to remember the active bystander article she’d read a few months ago.
“Bilqiis?”
“Ainsley?” The young woman’s eyes locked onto hers and she read the terror there. Giving her a nod, Ainsley placed herself between the angry man and her friend, but gave Ranger her back.
“Hey! Are you listening to me? I said you should get the hell out. We don’t need you here, don’t want your kind.” Ainsley felt herself trembling, not with fear, but with anger. She wanted nothing more than to whirl around and scream at him that Mrs. Sadiq would probably love to go back to where she came from. That her home had been taken from her, her childhood destroyed. Instead, she focused on her friend.
“Bilqiis,” she said, smiling at her, “I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about going shopping for some furniture for the house.” She put her arm around the woman’s shoulders, turni
ng her away from her cart and her attacker. “When would be a good time for you to do that?” Bilqiis’s eyes were wide, and her shoulders were taut under Ainsley’s touch.
“Hey. Zane. What are you doing?” Kyle’s voice was calm, but firm.
“I’m just having a conversation. Not that she can understand me.”
“She can, actually,” he said. “But she doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”
“You don’t belong here!” he shouted past Kyle.
“That’s enough, Ranger. Just walk away.”
As Ainsley and Bilqiis turned the corner at the end of the aisle, Ainsley could see out of the corner of her eye that the store manager had come over to stand behind Kyle.
“Let’s go to my car, okay? I’ll come back and get your groceries. Were you almost done?”
“Yes, I was almost . . .” Mrs. Sadiq choked out a sob. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault he’s an idiot.” She paused their conversation as they passed through the sliding doors into the parking lot. “Do you want to call Abshir?”
“Yes. I will call him in the car.”
“Do you want to go home?”
“I don’t know, I don’t . . .”
“That’s okay,” Ainsley soothed, rubbing her back. “Let’s just get to the car, and then we can figure out what to do next.” She opened the door for Bilqiis, then her phone plinked.
Kyle: Don’t leave. I’m paying for the groceries now.
Kyle: Is she okay?
Ainsley: Okay, we’ll wait. I think so. She’s in my car.
Kyle: Let’s follow her home and make sure.
Ainsley: No argument here.
Kyle: That’s a first.
Ainsley was texting him back a face with a tongue sticking out when a shadow fell over her phone, and she looked up to see Ranger.
“What’s your problem, Buchanan? I was just talking to her.”
“No, you were just belittling, insulting, and harassing her, Ranger. She doesn’t deserve that. No one does.”
“It’s a free country.”
“That’s right, it is. And she’s as free to be here as you are. You’re entitled to your opinion, but you’re not entitled to share it so viciously. It was disrespectful and rude, and she’s not obligated to just stand there and take it.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kyle coming out of the store.
Ranger stepped into her personal space. “She doesn’t belong here. Nobody’s going to censor me.” Kyle now appeared to be hurrying.
“I’m sorry you see it that way. Her presence here is perfectly legal, so I disagree. And as for censorship, it’s not that we’re saying you can’t say it; we’re just saying that we’re not going to listen.”
Kyle arrived at the car and began loading the groceries into the bed of the truck.
“Zane,” he said without looking at him, “the next time I see you, you better not be sick with anything I can cure.”
“What’s that mean, Durand?”
“It means if you don’t step away from this car, the next time you need my help, you might not get it.”
His eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”
“According to the AMA, ‘a physician shall, in the provision of appropriate patient care, except in emergencies, be free to choose whom to serve, with whom to associate, and the environment in which to provide medical care.’ Salem’s not that far. I’m sure you’d be fine.” He looked him up and down. “If you lay off the six-packs.” He slammed the trunk and touched the small of Ainsley’s back to move her toward the driver’s seat. Ranger stepped back to make way for her, but she didn’t miss the way his hands flexed into fists.
Kyle opened the driver’s side door for her, and she slid in. She took a breath to say something to Kyle, but he’d already shut the door. The two men were still talking, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. She turned to Bilqiis. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, but the tension around her mouth and her eyes told another story. Ainsley noticed her jersey head covering had slipped back a little in their rush to the car.
“Can I help you adjust your hijab?”
Bilqiis raised shaking hands to touch the fabric. “He doesn’t understand.”
“No,” Ainsley agreed quietly, letting her hands fall to cover Bilqiis’s cold hands as they fell back into her lap.
“Coming here, it was so much work. So many tests, so many interviews, so many things we must do. Money and more money. And now, the people hate us.”
“I don’t hate you.” She squeezed her hands tight, so tight her knuckles turned white. It wasn’t tight enough, not by half, to express the deep sorrow she carried for her friend. “I don’t hate you at all. Neither does Kyle or my dad or any of the guys building your house. I promise you, we don’t. Don’t let one a—” She caught herself just in time; she didn’t know how her friend would receive that kind of cursing, even if it was meant in solidarity. “Don’t let one jerk get in your head. Do you understand me?”
“It is difficult. He is not the only one. Things people say, the way they stare. It is difficult.”
“I’m sorry, Bilqiis.” What more could she say? A helpless rage welled up inside her, and she felt tears threatening to fall. There was a knock at her window, and she turned and rolled it down. Kyle looked chagrined.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Sadiq?”
“Yes, I am all right. Thank you, Dr. Durand.” At the sight of him, she touched her hijab, then pulled down the vanity mirror to adjust it more fully.
“Would you like me to drive your car home for you?”
“No, I will ask Abshir to bring me back later. Thank you for the offer.”
“What about you?” His voice was softer as he turned to Ainsley. “You okay?”
She nodded, but tucked her hands under her legs so he couldn’t see them shake. His eyes narrowed. So, it seems like maybe he knew anyway.
“I’m going to follow you to Mrs. Sadiq’s apartment . . .”
“There’s no need.”
He cut her off with a “stop” gesture. “I want to. It wouldn’t be right not to. Please.”
Ainsley sighed, then nodded.
“Don’t drive like a maniac, I won’t be able to keep up.” His gaze was still searching, and she knew this subtle attempt to get under her skin was his way of probing for a real answer as to whether she was okay.
She lifted her chin. “I never drive like a maniac.”
Kyle snorted. “That’s a matter of opinion.”
She didn’t know what to say, keeping her gaze steadily trained on his sober brown eyes. I am okay, Kyle. Really. We are okay. Kyle swayed forward, and she tensed. She could’ve sworn . . . No, that couldn’t be. She could’ve sworn he was about to kiss her. His gaze dropping, he shuffled backward, rapping out a staccato rhythm on the door of her truck with his knuckles in a poor attempt to seem casual.
“See you there.”
“Okay.”
She rolled her window back up as she started the car, taking care not to run over him as she backed out.
“Dr. Durand, you are dating him?”
Ainsley tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “What? No. We’re just friends.”
“You don’t need to hide this thing from me. I know how it is for you, how Americans choose their husbands. I’ve seen Friends.”
“Oh, Lord, Bilqiis. Seriously, Kyle and I are just friends.”
“He is not just friends.”
“Didn’t you have an arranged marriage? What do you know about dating?”
“No. And you should not assume. Abshir and I met in our university classes. He liked me, we would meet to study together, and then he went to my father.” She paused. “Has he spoken to your father?”
“Not that I know of, but that’s not really a thing here anymore . . .”
“He will.” A secret smile. “Before long, he will.”
“Well, my dad’s mad at him for destroying his ugly mailbox
back in 2013, so good luck to him.”
“I like him for you. He is . . .”
“Opinionated? Overconfident? Bossy?” Funny? Hot? Thoughtful?
“I would say ‘handsome.’ But he is those other things, too, at times. Perhaps he sees you hurt yourself on the site. You are not careful.”
Ainsley rolled her eyes. “Not you, too. Listen, I’m doing just fine over here. I don’t need any of you clucking around me like mother hens. My own mother doesn’t even do that.”
Bilqiis held up her hands in surrender, but Ainsley saw her smile as she turned to look out the window. Before long, Ainsley pulled into the apartment complex where the Sadiqs lived; Kyle parked next to her.
She nodded to a few residents coming out of another building as they pulled out the groceries, but Kyle didn’t bother acknowledging them.
“Which one’s hers?”
“12B, I think.”
“Okay, let’s get this stuff inside. Don’t dawdle.”
Ainsley groaned, exasperated. “Why are you so grumpy all the time?”
“I’m not grumpy, I’m just focused. Unlike you, trying to socialize with every stranger who walks by. So unnecessary.”
She smiled. “Why is it unnecessary?”
“Because we’re just here to drop off Mrs. Sadiq and her groceries. That’s it. I see no need to make new friends just because I’m here for the first time.”
“I’m not trying to make friends, I’m just being friendly. Try it sometime. It’s fun.”
He snorted as he started up the sidewalk. “I don’t think so.”
“You might like it. You might be surprised.” Kyle was silent as they walked up the steps, Bilqiis leading the way.
“You know what we should do?” Ainsley said, taking the bags into the kitchen, putting the milk into the fridge. “We should go somewhere fun on Saturday. Get out of town. Where have you wanted to go?” She could hear Kyle trotting back down the stairs to get more bags.
Bilqiis got a heartbreakingly wistful look. “The ocean. In Mogadishu, we could see the ocean often. We still haven’t been since we arrived in Oregon.”
“Two women and a child? No. You cannot go alone, it’s not safe.” Abshir was understandably nervous.
