Chapter 3
“There are no strangers here; only friends you haven’t met yet.” William Butler Yeats
I stare at my phone until my vision goes blurry. Finally, I get so annoyed with myself and how much of a chicken I’m being, that I pick the thing up and dial.
“Hello!” Izzy answers in a clear voice on the first ring. Phew, that’s a relief. When I asked Jack for the phone number, he warned me that Izzy will always answer the phone – even when she and Noel are getting busy. It surprised me because during sex was the only time that Brock didn’t answer his phone. He even took the phone to the toilet with him. Gross.
“Um,” I stall for time. My very small cup of courage is now empty. I finally manage to whisper. “I need help.”
“Oh my god,” she shouts. “Where are you? Are you safe? Can you lock yourself in the bathroom?”
I’m mortified! I’m such an inconsiderate bitch, scaring the daylights out of a pregnant woman. Brock isn’t completely wrong about me. “I’m fine.” I manage to interrupt her rant.
“Geez,” she breathes out. “You scared the pants off me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” she immediately scuffs. “It was stupid of me to assume you were in danger. I blame Noel. Since he heard your story, he’s been going on and on about safety and security. As if I’m not on edge enough with having my first child at 40.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. I didn’t mean to cause problems for people. Maybe I should just forget this plan?
“Enough of the ‘I’m sorry’ stuff! What can I do for you?”
“Grandma said you used to be a graphic designer,” I begin.
“Yep!”
“Um,” I mumble. “I was wondering if you can help me with setting up a website.”
“Awesome! I’d love to.” I can actually hear her clapping her hands. I wonder if pregnancy makes you crazy or if she was always like this. She doesn’t give me a chance to think on that. “So, you’re going to need to come over here. Like I said, Noel is being a majorly protective papa bear. I can’t even volunteer at the shelter anymore. Tomorrow good for you?”
I manage to agree to go by her house tomorrow morning. This is step two in my grand get-away-from-Brock scheme. The first step I managed to accomplish by running away from him with a decent amount of cash in my pocket. That’s probably why he came after me. I don’t know why he would bother otherwise. I’m worthless or so he says.
♥♥♥
I only work a half-day on Thursdays and, after a quick lunch, I head over to Izzy’s house. I breathe a huge sigh of relief when I don’t see Noel’s car in the driveway. Noel may be a friend of Grandma’s, but the broad-shouldered linebacker look-alike scares the pants off me and his being a detective just makes him that much more scary. I dig deep to find my courage, which is buried somewhere with my backbone, and find enough of the stuff to knock on the front door.
“Come in,” Izzy yells from somewhere in the house. I push the door open and shuffle inside. “I’m in the kitchen.” I hear her yell when the door closes.
“I’m dying for some ice cream,” Izzy says in greeting as I enter the kitchen. She shuffles to the freezer and grabs a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. “Want some?” she asks as she wiggles the container at me. Go ahead fat ass! I stare at the pint of ice cream like a love-struck teenager but shake my head.
“Something to drink then?” She puts the ice cream on the counter and turns back to the mammoth refrigerator. “I make an awesome lemonade.” She opens the frig door and pulls out a pitcher. She starts to stand up, and I watch in terror as she hits her head against the freezer door she forgot to close. I run to help her, and she hands me the pitcher.
“Crap on a cracker!” She rubs her head before slamming the freezer door.
“Are you okay?” I should have warned her before she started to stand up. You need to pay attention!
“I’m fine,” Izzy grunts before she grabs her ice cream and moves to the kitchen table. I make sure all appliance doors are closed before following her. Before I even manage to sit, she has a huge scoop of ice cream in her mouth and is sighing in pleasure. It sounds positively orgasmic. I blush.
“Sorry,” Izzy says when she notices my blush. “Ben and Jerry were my first loves. Don’t tell Noel.” I laugh and shake my head. “Oh bugger! I didn’t get you a glass.” She starts to stand, but I shake my head at her and stand instead.
I find a glass and pour myself a lemonade before joining Izzy at the table. She puts down her ice cream and grabs a notebook I hadn’t noticed laying on the table. “So,” she says as she opens the notebook. “What kind of website do you need?”
“Well,” I squeak. I clear my throat and force myself to speak clearly. I can do this! “I want to start an editing business.”
Izzy nods as she takes notes. “So you’re going to need an online store as well?”
I just stare at her. I have no idea what I need. I didn’t get past the idea of having my own business. Oh bugger, I don’t know if I can do this. My breaths become shallow as the shadows slowly invade my vision. I feel Izzy grab my wrist and squeeze.
“Take a deep breath,” she speaks softly, and I listen to her soothing voice as I breathe in and out in the manner I’ve practiced a thousand times before. When I get myself under control, Izzy releases my hand and rubs my shoulder.
“I have no idea what I need,” I whisper in shame when I finally get my voice under control.
“No worries,” Izzy literally waves my fears aside. “I’ve done this a million times.”
Izzy then proceeds to interrogate me with question after question; most of which I have no idea how to answer. She just keeps going, undeterred by my failure in having a clue how to start a business. I don’t have time to panic as Izzy just goes on and on like an Energizer bunny.
“Okay.” She finally puts down her notebook. “I can get this all set up while you register the business. Once the business is registered, I’ll put the website online and… Wham! Bam! You’ve got your own business.”
“Um. How do I register a business?” I feel like a total idiot. Brock sure got that part right.
“Here,” Izzy grabs her laptop and opens it. “I’ll show you. It’s super easy. I assume you just want a sole proprietorship?” I nod even though I have no idea what she’s talking about. “First, you reserve the name you want.” She glances at me and notices my eyes are the size of giant saucers and smiles. “It’s just a one-page form. Fill in your name and address.”
I don’t know if Izzy keeps talking as my heart stops at the word address. Can anyone access this? Will Brock find out where I live? He still thinks I’m at Grandma’s house. I don’t want him to find out where I live. I can do without seeing that man for the rest of my life.
“Dee!” Izzy shouts. I look up at her. “I’ve been calling your name! What’s wrong?”
I open my mouth and speak before I can change my mind. “I don’t want Brock knowing where I am.”
Izzy immediately narrows her eyes in suspicion. “Has he contacted you?”
I duck my head to hide the lie. “No.”
“Are you seriously lying to a pregnant woman?”
Flying Fudgsicles! I can’t lie for a darn. “Um. Brock visited me at Grandma’s house,” I mumble in the hopes she won’t understand what I’m saying. That hope is crashed when I hear her grab her phone and dial.
“Shoot! Noel’s phone is off.”
I jump out of my chair at the reprieve. “It’s okay, Izzy. He doesn’t know where I live. I’ll just wait to file the business paperwork until things calm down.” I race out of the house ignoring her shouts. So much for making a new friend.
Chapter 4
“... the choices we make are ultimately our own responsibility.” Eleanor Roosevelt
I plan to stay hidden in my apartment until I need to go to work on Friday morning but fate – also known as my grandma – has other plans for me.
“Grandm
a,” I answer the phone call of the only person I will never ignore.
“Delilah! Can you come over here right now?” Grandma is breathing heavily into the phone. My heart stops.
“What’s wrong?” I ask even though her answer is immaterial. I’m already grabbing my keys and shoving my feet into sneakers.
“I fell.” She says and hangs up. I rush down the stairs to my car and haul butt to her house. The house is dark when I arrive. Oh no! I hope she isn’t laying somewhere on the floor in the dark! I run into the house without bothering to shut the door behind me.
“Grandma!” I’m screaming in panic now.
“In here,” Grandma’s tiny voice responds from the kitchen. I hurry into the kitchen and freeze. Son of a gun! She’s ambushed me again. Grandma’s knitting buddies – Betty, Ally, Martha, and Rose – are sitting at the kitchen table as is Izzy. Noel, Jack, and Damien are leaning against the kitchen wall behind Izzy.
I turn my eyes on Grandma standing in the kitchen. “What in the Sam Hill is going on?” I manage to push the question out of my locked jaw.
Grandma has the good grace to look ashamed. She stares at the floor as she responds. “We need to talk to you about what happened.”
I throw my arms up in the air. “You couldn’t ask? You don’t think I’ve been ordered around enough in the past years?” I feel the moisture gather in my eyes, but I refuse to wipe it away. I turn and head towards the front door. I’ve had enough of being ordered around to last a lifetime.
Noel moves in front of the door to block my passage. I raise my eyes at him and if looks could kill, he would go up in flames. I don’t give a gosh darn that he’s a cop right now. If I had any superpowers, he’d be burnt toast. He doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow at me and his lips quiver as if he’s holding back a laugh.
“Seriously? You’re going to hold me against my will? And laugh at me?” I huff with indignation. I raise my hands to push him away. He moves to grab my hands to stop me. I flinch so hard I stumble backward. Noel immediately raises his hands, palms outward in a surrender motion. “I won’t touch you without your permission.” He takes a few steps back, no longer standing in front of the door.
“I told you this was a bad idea,” someone says. I think it’s Ally as she’s usually the peacemaker of this group of ruffians, but the volume of her voice barely registers on the human hearing scale, so I can’t be sure.
I start walking towards the door and am nearly out when I hear a loud sob. I turn toward the sound and see tears running down Izzy’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Dee.” I can barely understand her between her sobs and heaves for breath. “I just can’t stand for you to be in danger. I don’t want you to be scared. I just want you to be happy.”
I stare at Izzy, utterly flabbergasted. She barely knows me! Why the heck does she care whether I’m happy or not? I watch as Noel picks her up and places her gently on his lap. He hugs her tight and runs a hand down her hair soothingly.
“You can hit Noel if it makes you feel better,” Izzy offers and Noel just shakes his head at her.
I have no idea if she’s serious or not. “Um no, I don’t believe in violence.” Obviously.
“Pick me. Pick me!” Jack shouts as he jumps up and down with his hand raised in the air. “I would love to get my hands on Noel,” he says in a provocative voice and winks outrageously. I can’t help but laugh. Damien reaches over and smacks his hand down. “Behave or I’ll throw out your secret Ben & Jerry’s stash.”
Jack turns to Damien with his mouth gaping open. “You wouldn’t!” he whisper-shouts as he places a hand over his heart. Damien raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest. Jack visibly deflates and sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.
Seriously, where did Grandma find these people?
I sigh and roll my eyes. “Okay.” I give in. “What do you want?”
Betty speaks up for the first time since I arrived. “You need to get a restraining order against that husband of yours.”
Even though Betty could put Hitler to shame with her ability to get people to do what she wants against their will, I’m not budging. “How in the world would that help? Hitting your wife is illegal but that didn’t stop him.” I hear gasps, but I’m on a roll now. “How in God’s green world is a piece of paper going to make a bit of difference?” I cross my arms and stare down the ladies. I know my eyes are all kinds of defiant right now, but I’m beyond caring. I know Brock will not be punishing me later, at least not if I can help it.
Betty starts to respond, but Noel raises a hand to stop her. I’m shocked when Betty’s mouth shuts into a tight line. “Here’s the thing,” he begins in a gentle voice. “The protective order gives the police the power to arrest Brock if he comes anywhere near you. There are serious consequences for violating the order. Brock’s an important investment financier, right?” I nod. “I’m guessing that public appearances are very important to him.” I nod again, and he raises an eyebrow at me until I get it. Son of a gun, he’s right. I deflate.
Grandma walks over and grabs my hand for a squeeze before leading me to the only empty chair at the table. She pushes me to sit down. “I’ll go with you,” she says. Betty clears her throat. “We’ll all go with you. You won’t be alone.” I’m not really sure if I want Grandma’s knitting group to help me even though they mean well.
Martha claps her hands. “Okay, now that we’ve got that taken care of, let’s get down to more important things.” And just like that the tension in the room dissipates.
I roll my eyes at her. “What’s so important, Martha?” I try not to sound exasperated. Try being the operative word.
“This restraining order is a great idea and all, but wouldn’t it be safer for Delilah if she had a man to protect her?” Uh oh. That was not what I was expecting to hear.
“I’m still married,” I remind her.
She shrugs. “Not for long, right?” I don’t respond. I will be divorcing Brock, but it’s going to take time. My rat of a husband is going to fight the divorce tooth and nail. Of that, I can be sure.
“Anyway, Tommy seems interested.”
I raise my eyebrows at her. Is she serious? Didn’t they set Tommy up on a date with Jack? I look over at Jack to see his eyes bugged out. Cracker sticks! Doesn’t he know Tommy’s straight?
I clear my throat and dive in. “Tommy’s gay, remember? You set him up with Jack.”
The ladies laugh and not in a ladylike manner either. They are guffawing and slapping the table with mirth. What the heck? After a few minutes, Rose wipes tears from her eyes. “Tommy’s not any gayer than Noel.”
“You knew?” I whisper. Nods of gray-haired heads are my answer. “How?”
Betty waves my question away. “We knew from the start. We didn’t think he’d actually go out on a date with Jack.” I look over at Jack. He’s just shaking his head with a smile on his face. Guess he knew after all.
There’s no way I’m dating Tommy, though. The man admitted he didn’t want anything to do with a relative of the knitting group. Even if I was ready to date, which I’m totally not, I wouldn’t want to be with Tommy just because my grandma’s friends pushed him. I feel no loyalty to the man and so I drop the bomb. “Um, Tommy doesn’t want to date me.”
It’s Izzy’s turn to respond. “Are you crazy? That man couldn’t keep his eyes off of you at Jack’s birthday party.”
I shrug. Does it really matter? “He doesn’t want to date any of the relatives of the ladies.”
Jack coughs and I look up to see his face is red. I raise my eyebrows at him, and he nods in support but keeps his mouth shut.
“Well I never,” Betty responds. She’s bristling with indignation.
I relax back in my chair, relieved I dodged the bullet for now. I’m sure they’re going to find someone else they want to match me with. With how small the town is, I’m hoping it will take a while.
Chapter 5
“Pity is just another form of abuse.” Michael J. Fo
x
Today is totally going to suck. Not only have I agreed to file a protective order against Brock, but the entire gang of Grandma’s friends is coming with me. It’s not like I agreed to their escort service, but I can’t exactly stop those women. I manage not to plant my face on the counter next to the cash register. Turns out that’s a good thing because here comes trouble.
“Hey Dee,” Tommy says as he approaches me. Maybe ‘approach’ isn’t the right word. Stalk sounds about right. “Can we talk?”
I stop myself from rolling my eyes at him because that’s a sign of insubordination and totally not okay. I can’t help wondering what in the world he’s doing here and why he wants to talk to me, but I’m not asking. “I’m working,” I respond. He looks around the empty store and then raises his eyebrows at me. I shrug.
“Say what you gotta say.” I nearly duck to avoid the hit I know is coming from my snarky speech, but then I catch a glimpse of long, unruly, blond hair, which looks nothing like the slicked back dark hair with grey sideburns that Brock sports. That’s right, Brock’s not around. It’s Tommy standing in front of me. I shake my head and force myself to concentrate on the present as he crosses his arms over his chest and takes a deep breath.
“Got a call from Martha last night,” he begins. I don’t respond so he carries on. “It seems they’re under the impression I don’t want to date you because you’re Rosemary’s granddaughter.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. Is he calling me a liar? Because I’m pretty sure, he’s the one who told me he didn’t want to date anyone connected with the group of grandmas. Confident that this man is nothing like Brock, I throw my hip out and plant my hand on it. If he wants to be a liar, then sass is what he’s going to get. “I think your exact words were that you didn’t want them setting you up with their granddaughters.”
The Gray-Haired Knitting Detective Series: (Books 1 - 3) Page 31
