by Sara V. Zook
I turned my head away from her. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
I could feel her eyes on me even though I wasn’t looking at her. “You fuckin’ prick,” she huffed out as she opened the door to the room and slammed it shut behind her.
“Yes, I am,” I replied to the empty room as I stood up and locked it. I turned back around and headed toward the bathroom. I really needed a shower.
CROSS
I took my seat at the table and looked down before finally making the transition to eye contact with the rest of those sitting around me. I felt Mark slide in beside me, his elbow touching mine, but I didn’t bother looking over at him. Our drive to the restaurant had been a silent one, and in those painful minutes that I was forced to be breathing the same air as him, the rage still persisted.
I forced myself to make the best fake smile I possibly could and folded my dinner napkin across my lap. “Hello, everyone.”
“We already ordered, Lilah. We didn’t think you two were coming,” Rich explained.
I nodded and took a deep breath, hoping that would calm me down. It didn’t. “So sorry we’re late.”
“It was all my fault,” Mark belted out.
I cleared my throat. Just the sound of Mark’s voice almost sent me spiraling off into a rampage. I took a few seconds to compose myself before pointing to the bottle of wine placed in the center of the table. “May I?” I asked.
“Go right ahead,” Rich answered, passing the bottle my way.
He was my boss, a nice, single man in his 50s who had always treated me with the utmost respect. Andrea was beside him. She, on the other hand, was a bitch. Her boyfriend, Todd, was right beside her, both of them snobs. They had been together a long time. Andrea insisted that marriage was an inconvenience for both of them. Rich’s assistant Carmella and her husband were also there. They were even older than Rich, I’d say probably middle 60s. Every once in a while, Rich insisted on taking us all out. It was his indication that he wanted to hang onto us. It only happened a few times a year, and I was very embarrassed to have been so late. I couldn’t let it show, though. Andrea would eat it up if she knew I was upset.
I filled my glass and took a few sips. Mark took the bottle and filled up his own glass to the brim. Again, I didn’t bother looking at him.
Rich flagged down the waitress who came running over. She was a chesty brunette with a low cut shirt and thick brows. “Can we get two more menus?”
She glanced at me and Mark. “Of course, sir. I’ll be right back with those. Can I get you something to drink?”
“What would you suggest?” Mark asked, a cheesy grin on his face as he took no effort to hide his wandering eyes.
She lowered her eyebrows. “Um…”
“I’ll have a water and so will he,” I quickly told her.
She nodded and hurried off.
God, if my face hadn’t been red before, it was now. I turned around to face Rich and the rest of them in pure shame.
“There’s some bread here, Mark, if you want some,” Rich offered.
Mark reached over Carmella’s husband to retrieve the bread basket, then dug right in.
“How are your grandkids doing, Carmella?” I asked, trying to direct the attention away from myself and the slob of a man seated to my left.
She smiled brightly just thinking about them. “Oh, they’re fine, just fine. Donny and Heather are expecting their fourth any day now.”
“Fourth?” Andrea said, the disgust evident in her tone.
I ignored her. “Wow, that’s pretty impressive.” Carmella’s husband never spoke much, if ever, in front of the rest of us. I supposed he was dragged along just as much as Mark and Todd were.
“I’ve always wanted a wife and kids,” Rich stated.
“Well, why don’t you have them?” Carmella asked him. “A young, handsome man like yourself should be out there getting a family.”
He shook his head as he took a gulp of wine. “Handsome I’ll give you, but young I am not.”
Everyone chuckled.
“Guess it just wasn’t in the cards for me,” Rich stated.
Mark dug his knife into the butter again to spread on a new piece of bread. “I’ll tell you what I’ve always wanted,” he began, “a wife that can get knocked up.” Mark thought his comment was hilarious as he belted out in laughter.
The heat crept up my neck, forcing me to close my eyes for a few seconds. I didn’t want to have to open them and see that goddamn grin on Andrea’s face. I was saved by the waitress as she placed a menu down in front of me. I opened it right away, avoiding the gazes from anyone that might be possibly staring.
“Could you do that again?” Mark asked.
I looked over to see him handing his menu back to the waitress. She had a confused look on her face.
“Excuse me?” the waitress asked him. “Do what?”
He slicked back a greasy black curl from his forehead as he licked his lips and smiled. “You know, put that menu down again. I didn’t get a good look at your goods the last time.”
The waitress looked horrified. I couldn’t blame her. I’m sure morons like Mark weren’t seen that often in this beautiful restaurant.
Mark chuckled. “Oh, come on now, don’t act so surprised, baby. You and me both know you didn’t wear that low blouse for nothing. I mean, if you got it, flaunt it. Am I right?”
Oh—my—god. Why did I wait around for this loser tonight? Why did I decide he had to come with me? He’d been with me before, though, and he’d never acted like this. I stood up and took the menu from the waitress, her mouth still gaped open from the shock his comments left. I slammed it down in front of Mark and glared at the waitress who automatically took that as her cue to leave.
Mark’s face twisted in protest at what I’d just done. “Aw, why the hell do you have to be like that? I was just having fun,” he whined.
“Because this is a goddamn fancy restaurant, not a fucking strip club,” I hissed into his ear. I looked up at the faces around me, my co-workers, who had just witnessed something I had truly never imagined I would have to put up with and zoomed right in on Andrea’s shit grin, the one I knew she’d be wearing. She was loving every second of the show. “What do you think you’re doing?” This was pure torture. I had never felt such humiliation before.
Mark sucked down the rest of his wine noisily and then burped. He stuck his finger in my face. “I was just being friendly, you stupid, crazy bitch.” He stood up and walked toward the bathroom.
I lowered my head. “Would you excuse me, please, for a moment?” I knew my voice had cracked. I was on the verge of tears from the immense embarrassment I had just endured. I stood up and pushed my chair out. I headed to the women’s restroom, my legs practically sprinting there. I pushed open the door and almost collapsed against the sink. It was as if I had just run a marathon. My heart was pounding out of my chest. I was humiliated that he had just made an ass out of himself and in turn me, but on top of that, the strange feeling of jealousy soared through my veins. I protested against the emotion. I shouldn’t care less if that piece of shit flirted with another girl, so why was this feeling lingering? It just irritated me further, and I almost couldn’t take anymore tonight. I was done and calling it quits. This whole day could go straight to hell. I looked up into the mirror. Besides looking slightly frazzled nerve-wise, I looked amazing. Not a single strand of my blonde hair was out of place and my eye makeup wasn’t smudged. I looked a million times better than that waitress with her disgusting chunky brows. Stop! I wanted to slap myself. Why was I even comparing myself to that waitress? I hated Mark. I didn’t want his affections. I cringed at the mere thought of him touching me.
I stood up straight and pretended like I had just started washing my hands as two women entered the bathroom. They obviously worked here from their attire of a white shirt tucked into black slacks. They were giggling as they came through the door. Both of them went into stalls and I accidentally found myself
eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Did you see that guy in the white shirt out there?”
“No. Which one?”
“Dirt stains all over it.”
“Black hair, looks like he needs a bath?”
The girl burst out laughing. “That’s the one! Guess what he just did?”
“What?”
Mark. They were talking about Mark, I just knew it.
“I watched him go over and try to give Carly his number.”
“Ew! Really?”
“I know. He tried to write it on her arm with a pen.”
“That’s super creepy!”
“And funny!”
“Oh my god, what’d she do?”
“She ran to the kitchen and asked Mr. Hannon if Michael could take over that table for her.”
“Poor girl!”
“I doubt he’d leave much of a tip anyway!”
They burst out laughing again.
I rubbed the back of my neck as the madness consumed me. Then I pressed my hands against the sink and let myself simmer in the fury. The first stall opened and out walked the girl. She glanced my way as she stepped up to the sink to wash her hands. I moved over for her, my hands smoothing over my hair as if I was concerned about the way I looked. I dabbed my finger against my lipstick.
“I couldn’t help overhearing what you said,” I commented dryly. “What a jackass.”
The other stall opened and the other restaurant worker came up behind her friend. “I know, right?” She smiled my way as I stood back and let both girls wash their hands. I looked at them knowing I was going to have to eventually go out that door and face him—and my co-workers again—and I was not sure how I’d ever make it through the rest of the evening. It was virtually impossible to pretend that I was anything other than completely pissed off right now. I was afraid I’d walk right up to Mark and punch him in the face, especially that I now knew he not only hit on that girl in front of me, but also approached her and tried to get her to call him so they could hook up later.
“Either of you girls married?” I asked, the tone of my voice on the verge of scary right now as it was low and hushed and seemed to come from that deep, dark pit in my soul that only someone like Mark could get to surface.
“Yeah, I am,” one of the girls replied, holding up her left hand to reveal her wedding ring.
“Let me ask you something,” I began. “Have you ever had horrible thoughts about your husband?”
The girl looked over at her friend and then back to me. “What kind of thoughts?”
I let my breath out slowly. It felt as if my entire brain was consumed with a dark fire possessing my every thought. “Like when he’s lying on his back at night sleeping, snoring away, and instead of just nudging him in the side with your elbow to get him to stop or asking him to turn over, you take a sharp knife and slit his throat from one ear to the other and listen as the sound coming from him changes from snoring to gurgles as he chokes to death on his own blood?” I just stood there staring into space, not even making eye contact with the girls anymore.
“I think you may need help,” one of them commented.
“Yeah,” the other one agreed. “One word for you—therapy.”
CAIN
I gripped the grimy payphone in my hand and popped in the change. Does anyone even use these things anymore? I dialed in my mom’s phone number and waited as it rang, my back pressed against the damp phone booth wall. It was raining again, go figure.
“Hello?” My mom’s voice sounded so weak and far away.
“Mom, it’s me.”
“Oh, Nicky, thank god,” she huffed into the phone. “I was a little worried when I didn’t hear from you all night.”
“Worried about what?” I questioned her, wondering if she had any inkling as to what I had endured.
She ignored my question. “Are you coming home?”
“On my way soon. I had trouble getting the car to start. I found a garage, grabbed some breakfast, and I’m getting a taxi to take me back there to get the car. Should be fixed by now.”
“Okay. Did you…get it?”
I almost laughed aloud. As if money was a swear word or something. “Yeah.”
I heard her breath on the phone again. “Nicky?”
“Yeah?”
“If you have a minute, someone’s here. She came by to see you.”
She? Now I was curious. “Yeah, I have a minute. Put whoever she is on.”
I listened to the silence for a few seconds before I heard a voice whisper, “Hi, Nicky.” I knew that voice in an instant—Tina Eskin. She was my on and off again, a girl I had seen in my high school years who had cheated on me, broken my heart, gotten back together with me and then done it all over again. It wasn’t as heart-wrenching the second time around, though. She’s one of those people that you’ll never forget because you have a history with her, but beyond that great smile and huge rack, you see her for what she truly is, a skank.
“What are you doing at my mom’s?”
“Well, this is where you live, isn’t it?” she asked, her tone teasing.
I guess she was right, it was where I lived and I didn’t have a place of my own, but I always considered it my mom’s place. I looked at it as taking care of my mom like she had taken care of me, not a-grown-man-still-living-with-his-mom type of thing.
“I haven’t heard from you in a while,” she continued, “and just wanted to check in, see what you’ve been up to.”
Uh-huh. I knew what she wanted. She was feeling lonely again. I knew her all too well. “Yeah, I’m in Haven. Did she tell you?”
“Yeah, she did. What are you there for?” Tina asked.
“Stuff,” I said a little too quickly.
“Okay.” Tina laughed. I could picture her face as she did it. “Well, are you coming home soon?”
“Should be in a couple hours,” I replied, slightly irritated she was over there bothering my mom, probably asking her questions about her cancer, pretending like she fucking cares. Here it comes, I thought. She’s going to ask it.
“Well, can I see you? Can I wait for you?” Tina whispered.
Just as I had thought. Didn’t take long to leave her lips. She must be really desperate, and that awful, itching feeling in the pit of my stomach, the one that ached for things that used to be, took over as I answered, “Yeah. Sit tight.”
I hung up the phone and wiped the grease that it left on my pants, already regretting a decision that I hadn’t yet made. Tina Eskin—someday she will make one unlucky guy’s life very miserable. I unfolded the card I had stuffed into my pants pocket. PITTMAN’S AUTO. I walked out of the phone booth and out into the rain, attempting to flag down a taxi. The vehicles rolled past me, sloshing the bottom of my pants with dirty rain water from the street. I was soaked from head to toe, my underwear sticking to my ass.
“Hey!” someone shouted out.
I turned around to see a guy dressed in a long brown coat and hat approaching me quickly. My heart rate sped up as I ignored him and turned to look for a taxi again.
“Hey, you!” he yelled out again. “Are you Nicky Cain?”
Shit. He did want me. He looked like some sort of cop the way he was dressed. I stepped back further away from the street onto the sidewalk and turned to face him as he caught up to me. I knew I wasn’t going to get out of Haven easily. This was it. I was about to get wrestled to the ground and handcuffs slapped on my wrists.
“You’re a hard guy to get a hold of,” he stated, his mouth turned up into a smirk.
“Huh?” I asked, my mind still fumbling around with itself as more dreaded thoughts entered about what questions I should answer and how exactly I should handle this if I did end up getting arrested.
The guy chuckled, rain falling from the brim of his hat. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning. Why can’t I find a cell number for you?”
I just stood there staring at him for a few seconds. “I don’t have
a cell phone.”
He chuckled even louder. “What? You serious?”
I nodded.
“That’s—weird.” He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “All of that is about to change.”
I frowned. He wasn’t here to ask me about last night? “What do you mean change?” What the hell?
“You need to relax a little. Why you so worked up? Here,” he said, pulling at my arm as I followed him to the window of a store that had a little roof overlapping onto the sidewalk, just enough that it kept the rain from continuing to drench our clothes. “Listen, I’ve been sent by Carmine. He has another job for you.”
That sickening feeling gripped my stomach again at just the way he said job. There was no way I was putting in another night like I had yesterday. Why would he want someone like me anyway? I was no Seton. I wasn’t one of the Triplets. I was just someone from a small town that didn’t want involved with the messes of Haven. “I can’t. I have to go see my mom.”
“Your mom?” I followed his gaze to the traffic that continued to rush down the street, the tires gushing through the puddles. “Listen, man, she’s been taken care of.”
Taken care of? Who the fuck gave him the right to say anything to me relating to my family? “I don’t think you understand. She’s not well. She needs this.” I reached into my pocket and grabbed the wad of cash Carmine had given me, holding it up for him to see.
“Whoa! What the fuck, man?” He put his hand over the money and forced me to lower my hand. “Never show anyone your dollars. What’s the matter with you?”
I tried to shove it back into the wet pocket, but it wasn’t as easy to do as getting it out had been.
“Someone’s on their way to your mom right now as we speak.”
That didn’t exactly make me feel better. How did they know anything about what was going on with her? How the hell did they know where I lived? It made me feel like I was going to throw up thinking that one of these people were going to Lazerne to show up at her door. She wouldn’t understand why they were coming. “She’s expecting me, not someone she doesn’t know,” I snapped. “This was supposed to be a one-time thing.”
