Gasping For Air 2 (Last Chance Romance Series)

by Abigail Keam

  “But I don’t want him to feel sad.”

  “I don’t understand how you’re raising this kid. No sweets at all. Nothing in his life that smacks of unhappiness. No consequences for his bad behavior. I’m not allowed to discipline him. You’re not letting this kid breathe. He’s living in a bubble.”

  “He’s my son and I will decide what is best for him. Okay?”

  Lillian knew when she was beaten. “Okay, but I think. . .”

  Lillian’s daughter brushed her concerns aside. “I’ve got to go. Can you watch Trevor this Saturday?”

  Lillian was starting to get a headache and for once she hedged. “I’ll have to get back to you. We might have plans.”

  The daughter gave Lillian a strange look. “Plans? You and Daddy never go anywhere. Well, give me a call by tomorrow.” She picked up her purse and opened the door. “And call the doctor. All this falling and running into stuff might be a sign that something is wrong with you. You’ve got bruises everywhere.”

  “Yes, dear,” replied Lillian, feeling more abused and unappreciated than ever.

  “Tomorrow, remember.” The daughter gave her mother one last look and slammed the kitchen door on her way out.

  Lillian slumped down into a chair and rubbed her temples. A real thumper was starting in her head. Frustrated, she picked at the apple pie on the kitchen table. She knew that she ate too many sweets and that she was a stress eater, but Lillian couldn’t help herself. Before she knew it, Lillian had eaten the rest of the pie. Looking at the mess on her fingers, Lillian felt ashamed and began to cry.

  When had she become so pathetic? Lillian decided then that she had to make a severe change or she was going to die. Maybe not her body, but her soul was shriveling up to nothing. She could feel herself disappearing. She had to make a change and make it fast or Lillian felt that she would cease to exist. That’s when she decided to escape to Florida.

  6

  “Okay. Open your eyes!”

  Lillian cautiously opened her eyes and peered into the mirror. She stared at her new short, spiky haircut. “I can’t believe it. I look so different.”

  “Younger,” replied Bitsy, smiling. “Definitely younger.”

  Lillian twisted her head back and forth looking at her new stylish blond hair, plucked eyebrows, and makeup. “I like it. I really like it. I feel so much better.”

  Bitsy unsnapped the bib around Lillian and twirled her around. “You’re all done. Ready for a new chapter in your life.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I can tell when a gal is in desperate need of a change.”

  “Thank you.” After leaving a large tip, Lillian went to the front desk and paid her bill. She was actually smiling as she left and got into her car. Glancing in the rear view mirror, Lillian twisted her head this way and that, admiring her new look. It gave her the confidence she needed. “Now all I need is a job,” she said to herself. And she was determined that she would get one.

  7

  “Excuse me,” said Lillian to Eva. “Can you tell me where to get a local newspaper?”

  “Wait one moment,” replied Eva, holding up a finger. She went into the back and came out with a disheveled newspaper, handing it over to Lillian. “Sorry it’s such a mess. I read it this morning and I’m rather untidy with the paper.”

  “No problem,” answered Lillian, folding the paper. “I just need the ad section anyway.”

  “Looking for a house?” asked Eva, trying to be nonchalant.

  Skimming the want ads, Lillian answered, “No. I’m looking for a job. I like it here. I think I might stay.”

  “I know what you mean. I came here after a divorce and bought this place. I love it here. So much sun.”

  Lillian looked up from the paper and smiled. “Just what I was thinking. I don’t think I can stand another harsh winter.”

  “Where did you say you were from?”

  “Up north,” replied Lillian.

  Eva was immediately ashamed of herself for meddling. Obviously the woman was running away from an abusive marriage. The less Eva knew, the better.

  “Most businesses don’t list in the paper anymore. It’s usually word-of-mouth down here,” said Eva.

  “Oh.”

  “What can you do?”

  “I’ve been a housewife for many years, but before I was married, I worked for an insurance company. I handled all their claims.”

  “Can you type?”

  “I can type, know how to work most office machines, good on the phone, file, just about as good as anybody my age on the computer. I don’t smoke, rarely drink, and don’t do drugs. And I’m not in debt.”

  “Goodness, I didn’t ask for all that.”

  “Yes, but you wanted to know. I thought you should know all that as I can’t give any references.”

  “I see.”

  Lillian gave Eva a sheepish grin. “I hope you understand my need for privacy in that regard.”

  “I understand perfectly. I remember a time in my life when I wanted to break from the past. One thing about Key Largo, people don’t ask many questions. It’s considered very rude.”

  “Well, if you hear of anyone who needs someone, let me know. I like to keep busy and need the money.”

  Eva thought for a moment. “Go talk to Jack at Aussie Jack’s. If anybody knows what’s going on, it’s him. Just cross Highway 1 and follow the street down to the ocean. You can’t miss it.”

  “All right. I’ll give him a buzz this afternoon. Thanks for the info.”

  Eva smiled. “I hope it works out for you.”

  Lillian waved goodbye as she was heading out the door. “So do I.”

  8

  Lillian tapped on the bar.

  A head rose above the bar and looked around until it saw Lillian. “Yes? What can I do you for?” asked a deep voice with a thick Australian accent.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but Eva from the Pink Flamingo . . .”

  “You mean the Last Chance Motel?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry. Old habits die hard. The locals still call it the Last Chance Motel. Eva bought it recently and renamed it, but we still call it the Last Chance Motel.”

  Lillian continued, “Eva recommended that I talk to you. I need a job and she says that you would know of anyone hiring.”

  Aussie Jack rubbed his chin. “You need a job, huh?”

  “Yes. I’m a good worker.”

  “What can you do? What have you done?”

  “I can type. I know a little about computers. My last job was handling insurance claims.”

  “When was that?”

  Lillian lowered her eyes and felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “That was a few years back.”

  “How far back?”

  “Over twenty-some years ago. I had a child and stayed home to raise her.”

  “Why do you want to work now?”

  Lillian was starting to feel uncomfortable with all the questions. “I just want to work. I need something to do,” she paused, “and I need the money.”

  Jack looked Lillian up and down. “Do you do drugs?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Drink?”

  Lillian shook her head.

  “I need a hostess for the evening shifts during the weekends. It doesn’t pay much plus you will be on your feet for seven hours, but you get the evening meal free providing you don’t order lobster and filet mignon.”

  “It’s a start. I’ll take it.”

  “Be here on Friday at three. Wear black pants or skirt with a white shirt. No cleavage. No loud jewelry. Sensible shoes. You cause trouble or I catch you stealing–you’re gone. Understand?”

  “Yes. Thank you. I’ll work very hard.”

  “We’ll see. You might be quitting after the first night. It’s harder than you think.”

  “Thank you anyway. You won’t be sorry.”

  “Yeah? I’ve heard that before. See you Friday.”

  Lillian turned
to make her way out of the restaurant when Jack yelled after her, “Be on time!” She didn’t bother to comment as she was wondering where she could purchase some good sturdy shoes.

  9

  Lillian was terrified. She ate a quick meal, was given twenty minutes of training, and then was handed menus with a grease pencil, and told she was on her own. Things went smoothly until seven p.m. and then all hell broke loose. Everyone seemed to come at once and Lillian was having trouble seating everyone promptly. The tables were not turning over swiftly enough.

  Seeing that several tables were empty but not cleared, Lillian got a tray and cleaned the tables herself. Things went quicker after that so Lillian made it a habit if she couldn’t find a busboy, she would simply clear the tables herself.

  So she was totally flummoxed when a busboy chewed her out after the restaurant had closed.

  “Whatcha think you doing cleaning my tables,” confronted the busboy, standing a little too close to Lillian.

  She stepped back. “I . . . I don’t know what you mean,” Lillian replied. “I thought I was helping.”

  “I don’t need no help, bitch,” sassed the busboy, stepping closer to Lillian.

  After years of being bullied, Lillian simply had had enough of men telling her what to do. “I’m sorry if I stepped on your toes, but I suggest that you step it up cleaning the tables. Dirty tables were slowing the turnover. If you have a problem with me, you should talk to Jack. If he tells to me to stop, then I will. But he might tell you to get off your butt and work faster.”

  The busboy’s face flushed to a dark red. He couldn’t believe that this old hag was talking back to him. He pointed a finger at Lillian and jabbed it within an inch of her eyes. “Stay out of my business, old woman, or else.”

  “Or else what?” boomed a masculine voice.

  Both Lillian and the busboy turned around to see Jack watching them.

  “This old lady is up in my business. I was taking care of the tables,” whined the busboy.

  “First of all, I don’t like the way you were talking to this lady,” replied Jack, his voice very low. “Second, if this lady is old, then I must be ancient.”

  “But . . .” blurted the busboy.

  “But nothing,” interrupted Jack. “The waitresses are complaining that someone is stealing their tip money. They’re coming up a hundred dollars short every night.”

  The busboy looked away. “I don’t know nothing about that.”

  “It seems that this started happening when we hired you.”

  “Aw, come on now. Don’t trip on me. I got nothing to do with that.”

  “Look up. See those surveillance cameras. I record what goes on here and I checked those tapes. You are stealing the tips off the tables and taking very long smoking breaks. I’m very thankful that this old hag had the initiative to clean off tables while you were slacking off.”

  The busboy moved toward Jack in a threatening manner.

  “You hit me, boy, you better make sure I’m dead, ’cause I’ll beat the living crap out of you and then dump you in the ocean for the sharks,” hissed Jack. He was smiling, which made the threat scarier.

  The busboy blanched. “I want my pay then. I don’t gotta listen to this shit. You’re disrespecting me.”

  “Great minds think alike. Go to the office. Greta is waiting for you. She has your severance pay ready.”

  “That’s more like it.”

  “You get your check right now and once it is in your hands, you leave and never come back. If I ever see you on my property again, I’ll have you arrested.”

  The busboy took off his jacket and threw it on the floor. Giving Jack one more disdainful glance, he purposely bumped into Lillian as he passed.

  Lillian bit her lip to keep from crying out. She did not want to give him the satisfaction that had he hurt her shoulder.

  Once the busboy was out of the room, Lillian addressed Jack. “I’m so sorry. Was I the cause of all of this?”

  Jack smiled. “Hell, no. I was going to fire that punk anyway. You just made it easier for me.”

  Lillian gave a sigh of relief. “That young man is so angry, I feel sorry for him.”

  “Don’t waste your time. That kid comes from a good family and he is driving them nuts with his anti-social behavior. Just about everyone on this island has given him a job or tried to help straighten him out. He’s just no good and that’s the truth of it.”

  “He doesn’t come from an underprivileged family? The way he speaks.”

  Jack laughed. “His dad is one of the leading software providers in Florida. You don’t have to worry about him being homeless.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “Yes, it is. A great shame, but like I told you there is something off about that kid.”

  Lillian didn’t respond, but wanted to sit down. Her feet were killing her.

  “How did you like it, this being your first night? Or is it your last night?” asked Jack, picking up some empty beer bottles.

  Lillian smiled. “It’s harder than it looks, just like you said. But I’m game, if you still need me. Do you?”

  “You actually did very well. See you tomorrow then?”

  “Yes, very much so.”

  “Okay, then come in around four.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be here,” replied Lillian, her heart feeling lighter after the confrontation with the busboy. Finally someone had told her that she had done something right. That compliment was better than a paycheck.

  And it was just what Lillian needed.

  10

  Saturday was even busier and the waitresses showed Lillian how to put duct tape over her blisters as Lillian was beginning to limp during her shift. Even with the comfortable shoes Lillian had purchased, her feet were taking a beating.

  At last, the kitchen shut down and the restaurant closed. Only the outside Tikki bar was open for a few late customers. Lillian noticed that most people in the Keys went to bed early so they could get up with the sun to go fishing. Those who wanted a fun night out headed to Miami, which was an hour away.

  Lillian was sitting at the bar, nursing a soft drink while rubbing her tired feet. She fended off several invitations from bored snowbirds that she accompany them to their hotel until Jack told the “boys” that he was closing up for the night.

  They groaned good-naturedly while throwing bills on the bar. Some turned, saying semi-lewd comments to Lillian before being pushed out the side gate by Jack.

  “The mates mean no harm,” said Jack to Lillian. “They’re just blowing off steam. They don’t expect you to reply or come to their hotels where their wives are waiting for them. Just smile and ignore them. If they really bother you, come and get me.”

  Lillian laughed. “I don’t like their comments, but I’ll tell you something. That’s the first time in years that a man has even noticed that I exist. I didn’t know what to do.”

  Jack shrugged and went into his office. He didn’t know how to respond to Lillian’s statement. As far as he was concerned, Lillian was a nice-looking woman who was turning into an excellent worker. He didn’t want to lose her, but he didn’t want to be swept up in her personal life. Still, he felt sorry for her. He had noticed the fading bruises on her arms and that perhaps she was running away from a bad relationship.

  Maybe he should talk to his wife about her. Or maybe he should just mind his own business. That’s what the Key Largo folks were known for–minding their own P’s and Q’s.

  11

  Lillian worked very hard at Aussie Jack’s and after several weeks on the job, she had mastered hostessing and waitressing. She was also learning how to bartend. She filled in wherever she was needed.

  It had been a busy shift, and after the waitresses had shared their tips with Lillian (hostesses, bartenders, and busboys got a percentage), Lillian got her flashlight and headed back to the Last Chance Motel. She was calling it now by its old name rather than the Pink Flamingo Motel. (Only the tourists called it that.) N
ursing the blisters on her feet, Lillian pulled off her sturdy shoes and put on some flip-flops.

  Most of the lights in the houses were out, making the street up to Highway 1 dark and foreboding. Lillian could hear ships in the ocean calling to each other as well as a lonely TV blaring here and there from dimly lit houses.

  This area was an older part of the Key and most houses had been built in the ’60s. The landscaping was lush and cast shadows on the narrow side street. Lillian kept her eye on the lights on Highway 1 where cars roared by occasionally.

  Lillian heard something rustle behind her. She turned and looked, but saw nothing but shadows and waving plants dancing in the ocean breezes. Waving her flashlight around, Lillian had a strong sensation that someone was watching.

  “Hello? Anyone there?” Lillian strained to look. Just when a shadow started to take form, a porch light was turned on and a group of giggling teenagers rushed out of a house.

  Happy that people were about, Lillian followed them to the highway, occasionally looking behind her. Once on the highway, Lillian rushed across the road, and using her keycard opened the security gate to the Last Chance Motel, closing it behind her.

  Lillian took a deep breath. She now felt safe. She was convinced that someone had been lurking in the bushes near Aussie Jack’s. She was sure of it!

  Guests were still swimming in the lighted pool and a newlywed couple was taking a dip in the lagoon. Lillian said hello to a few guests and then hurried to her bungalow, locking the door behind her.

  Lillian had a second sense about danger. She had always known when Bob was going to explode. She had felt that same anxiety on the side street.

  Maybe she should drive to work from now on, but that was ridiculous as the restaurant was so close. Maybe she was just being silly.

  Lillian would think about what to do tomorrow. Exhausted, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.