by Darcia Helle
“Oh.” Stephen shrugged. “Kevin’s probably waiting for you to stop by again. You can, you know.”
“Maybe I will.”
Stephen regarded her for a moment, then said, “Have fun tonight.”
“Thanks.”
He stepped into his room, closing the door behind him. Seconds later his stereo blasted through the solid walls.
Lauren started down the hall just as the doorbell chimed. Her stomach did a nervous flip. Goosebumps erupted on her skin. She rubbed her arms as she skipped down the stairs.
Out in the driveway, Jesse held the passenger door open for Lauren. “What are you in the mood to eat?” he asked.
“You really want to know?” Lauren said.
“I really do. Unless it’s something weird, like squid or ostrich. Then we might have to settle for pizza.”
Lauren laughed. “I don’t like squid and I can’t imagine eating an ostrich.”
“Then we’re probably safe.”
“I’m actually in the mood for Mexican.”
“My favorite,” Jesse said. “I know the perfect place.”
Lauren and Jesse sat in a small Mexican restaurant in downtown Boston. The mood was light, the pace slow. They talked about art exhibits, fad diets, alternate realities, and the waiter’s pierced eyebrow. Jesse was playful and kept Lauren giggling through most of the meal.
By the time they arrived at the Back Alley Blues club, Lauren’s nervous butterflies were long gone. The club’s muted lighting and overall ambiance gave it an erotic undertone. Like love and sex happened in the darkened corner booths where the music vibrated the floors and the drinks went down too easily.
Lauren gave a little shake of her head as she noticed how crazy her thoughts had become. Maybe not so much crazy as obsessed. With Jesse. With sex. With sex with Jesse. She turned to see him looking at her and her skin immediately grew red hot.
Jesse motioned to one of the few empty tables near the back of the room. “This table okay?” he asked.
“Perfect,” Lauren replied.
Jesse led the way. Then, as Lauren settled into her seat, he said, “Want a drink?”
“Sure.”
“What would you like?”
“Surprise me.”
Jesse grinned. “Now there’s trust.” He made his way to the crowded bar and soon returned with two frothy drinks. Placing one in front of Lauren, he said, “I hope you like it.”
Lauren took a sip. “Mmm, what is this?”
“My secret,” Jesse said with a wink.
The band started into a slow, grinding beat. The vocals fell somewhere between a plea and a groan. Jesse took Lauren’s hand, pulling her to her feet. “Let’s dance,” he said.
Lauren’s knees threatened to give out on the way to the dance floor. Jesse settled his warm hands on her waist. Her skin tingled. His breath was warm against her neck. For a few moments the music and Jesse’s overpowering presence replaced all thought. No one else existed on that dance floor.
When the song came to an end, Lauren realized that she had all but melted into Jesse’s arms. Embarrassed, she started to pull away. Jesse ran his finger lightly over her bottom lip, slipped his hand beneath her chin and gently directed her mouth up to meet his. The kiss was soft and slow and she was lost in its depths.
When their lips parted, Lauren suddenly became aware of the people around them, dancing to a new song with a new beat, while they stood still, lost in that kiss. Heat rose to her cheeks. Jesse laughed. “You blush easily, don’t you?” he said.
“Unfortunately, yes,” she said.
Jesse pulled her close. “Want to dance some more?”
Nerves got the better of her. And, as often happened, with the discomfort came thoughts of her father. No doubt he would find out she’d been with Jesse tonight. He’d be furious. No one disobeyed him, particularly the women in his life. Would there be more threats? Or worse?
She had to be honest with Jesse. He deserved to know that her father wanted him out of her life. He should be allowed to decide whether he wanted to stick around, despite that. And she deserved to know where her father’s raw hatred came from.
Lauren took a deep breath, met Jesse’s eyes. She said, “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay, let’s sit down.”
Back at the table, Lauren silently cursed her father. He had not only ruined her childhood, but now he was verging on ruining her adult life as well. Why was she allowing him to do this to her? She looked down at her hands and fought the compulsion to pick at her lavender nail polish. She said, “You already know my father’s not a very nice man when he doesn’t get his way.”
Jesse nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t know what happened between you two but, well, he doesn’t want me to see you anymore.”
“I know.”
Lauren met Jesse’s eyes. “You do?”
“Yeah, he told me.”
“Oh.”
“Did he threaten you?”
Lauren looked away. “No…”
“Ahh, the threat was directed at me.”
“You could say that.”
“I’m sorry,” Jesse said. “I don’t know why he insists on involving you in this.”
“What’s going on with you two?”
“I refused to do a job for him and he’s pissed.”
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
“That seems awfully trivial,” Lauren said. “Even for my father.”
Jesse reached out, covering Lauren’s hand with his. “Look Lauren,” he said, “I don’t want to start trouble between you and your father. I wouldn’t want to mess up your relationship.”
“My father and I have no relationship.” Lauren paused, weighing her words. “I think you know my father much better than most people. And I trust you to decide how to handle him. But I know the man no one else sees. I know what he’s capable of.”
“I’m not afraid of your father,” Jesse said. “I just don’t want him to make your life miserable.”
A small, bitter laugh escaped Lauren’s lips. “That would be an understatement. He has always made my life hell.” The simple warmth of Jesse’s hand brought Lauren a comfort she hadn’t known with anyone before. “I’ve never told anyone that,” she said. “Everyone I know thinks my father is the greatest. You knew better all along, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t want him to hurt you.”
“He’ll only hurt me if he comes between us,” Jesse said.
“I don’t want that to happen, either.”
Jesse leaned forward, brushing his lips softly over Lauren’s. He stroked her cheek as he spoke. “You’ll be okay at home?”
Lauren found herself wanting nothing more than to stay wrapped in Jesse’s arms. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
“Then let’s not worry about it.”
Lauren was jarred awake by the sound of angry shouting downstairs. She lay still a moment, listening. The voices were muffled. No distinct words, just sharp garbled noise. Wide awake now, she sat up and checked her clock. Four a.m. With a sigh, she climbed out of bed, pulled on her robe and slippers, and stepped out into the dark hall.
Stephen’s bedroom door was open, which likely meant he hadn’t been to bed yet. Lauren continued down the hall. The voices grew more distinct. Her mother and father.
“Please stop,” Kara said.
“I have warned you before,” Alex said. “You know better than to ask such a ridiculous question.”
Lauren reached the bottom step at the exact moment that her father backhanded her mother across the face. Kara stumbled backward. “Stop it!” Lauren said. “Leave mom alone.”
Alex turned. In the dim light, his face took on a haunted glow. Lauren shivered. She said, “Stop hitting her.”
“This is not your business,” Alex said. “Your mother gets nothing she doesn’t deserve.”
Kara gripped the back of the sofa for
support. “I’m okay, Lauren,” she said softly.
Lauren remained where she stood. She couldn’t keep walking away. Each time she did that, it was like saying this was okay. She took part in allowing her father to continue his abuse. Of her mother. Of all of them.
Lauren met her father’s stare. His cold anger radiated off him in waves. She forced herself not to flinch. “No woman deserves to be hit,” she said.
Alex closed the space between them. Kara quickly said, “Lauren, please go up -”
“Quiet!” Alex’s demanded. “Apparently Lauren feels as if she has something worth contributing here.”
Determined not to be bullied, Lauren stood firm. Putting as much confidence into her voice as she could muster, she said, “You have no right to hurt anyone.”
Alex chuckled without humor. He smoothed his Ballantyne cashmere sweater, brushed imaginary lint from his black wool Prada slacks. Finally he met Lauren’s eyes. “The treatment given is that which is deserved,” he said. “Therefore you are incorrect. I have every right.”
He held Lauren’s gaze for a moment longer. His eyes burned hot with fury. But something else burned there as well. That nameless emotion sent a chill down Lauren’s spine.
After a moment, Alex turned to Kara. “I’m tired,” he said. “You and I are finished with this subject. Do not bring it up again.”
Alex disappeared up the stairs. Lauren and Kara stood in the silent shadows until the bedroom door clicked closed. Then Kara let out a soft whoosh of breath. She said, “Thank you.”
Tears glistened on Kara’s cheeks. Lauren shook her head. This life made no sense to her. “Why do you stay with him, mom?”
“It wasn’t always this bad.”
“I know. But -”
“Not now,” Kara murmured. “We’ll talk later.”
So many unanswered questions. And it seemed they’d remain unanswered, at least for now. Lauren agreed to let it go, muttered a good night, and headed back up to her room. She climbed in bed and stared at the ceiling. Knowing she would never get back to sleep, she simply lay there, letting the scenes of her life play over in her mind.
Seated at the kitchen table, Lauren was halfway through her second cup of coffee. The caffeine was doing little to snap her out of the groggy half-sleep state she’d been in since being jarred awake a couple of hours earlier. The sudden slam of the car door in the driveway sounded like thunder in the silent room. Stephen fumbled with the back door. Lauren made no move to get up and help. His antics were the last thing she needed this morning.
Finally Stephen managed to twist his key in the lock. He stumbled into the kitchen, pushing the door closed with too much force. He didn’t seem to notice as the glass pane in the door rattled. A moment later he realized Lauren was sitting at the table. His eyes widened, then he chuckled. “Hey sis,” he said. “Didn’t expect you to be up.”
“Good morning,” Lauren replied with little enthusiasm.
“You missed a hell of a party.”
“Keep your voice down.”
Stephen zigzagged toward the refrigerator. “What’s the big deal?”
“Why don’t you go to bed,” Lauren said. “Dad got in a couple of hours ago and he’s in a lousy mood. Don’t give him any excuses to take it out on you.”
Stephen took a long swallow from the orange juice container. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Since when does he need an excuse?”
That familiar knot tightened in Lauren’s stomach. She wasn’t sure if she should be more concerned about her mother or her brother. Sometimes all she wanted was to hide somewhere and let it all go on without her.
“Do us both a favor,” Lauren said, “and stay quiet and out his way today.”
Stephen shrugged. “I need to crash anyway.”
Lauren felt relief as Stephen staggered from the room. That relief was quickly replaced by guilt. She should be doing more for her brother than shooing him off to bed. But she didn’t know what she could do on her own and didn’t have the energy to figure it out.
A dull thud came from the hallway. Lauren dropped her head in her hands, rubbed her eyes. No doubt Stephen was bouncing off walls in his attempt to get to his room. She was about to get up and check on him when a much louder thump was followed by glass shattering. She ran to the living room to find Stephen and one of the hallway paintings heaped on the floor. Shards of glass now decorated the side table.
Lauren yanked Stephen to his feet. “Now you’ve done it,” she muttered.
“What the hell is going on?” Alex shouted from the upstairs hallway.
“An accident,” Lauren called. “Go back to bed. I’ve got it.”
Alex descended the stairs. He stopped at the bottom landing, pulling his robe tight and glaring at Stephen. “What happened?” he said. “And where have you been?”
Stephen put one hand against the wall, steadying himself. He looked at Alex, then quickly away. “A party.”
“You are seventeen, not twenty-one.”
“So?”
Alex moved off the landing. Lauren kept her position between them. “He was on his way to bed,” she said. “He didn’t mean to -”
“Be quiet, Lauren,” Alex said.
The rage in Alex’s eyes betrayed the calmness in his voice. Lauren held her ground. “Let him go to bed,” she said.
“I said be quiet.” Alex swept his arm across Lauren, pushing her aside. “You have interfered more than enough for one day.”
“Don’t you dare touch either of them,” Kara said. She hurried down the stairs, her facial muscles tight, her eyes filled with determination. She glared at Stephen. “You go to bed,” she said. “We’re going to have a long talk later today.”
Stephen’s gaze dropped to the floor. His shoulders slumped forward as he trudged past his parents, up the stairs, and to his room. Alex’s eyes bore into him. Then he quickly spun around, the force of his rage directed at Kara. “Just what exactly do you think you are doing?”
Kara glanced at Lauren. She turned back to Alex, inhaled deeply. “I don’t want you hitting him anymore,” she said.
“My, you’ve suddenly developed quite a bit of courage.” Alex took a step closer to Kara. His voice was low but sharp. “Or is it stupidity? Have you forgotten your place here?”
“She’s right,” Lauren said. “Beating Stephen isn’t going to help anything. He needs help.”
“Precisely why I intend to handle this my way. I will not pamper him.”
“And you will not abuse him,” Kara said.
Alex raised his hand as if to slap Kara. But then he let his arm drop to his side. He murmured, “You and I will deal with this privately.”
His eyes lingered on Kara, cold and angry. Then he cast a glance at Lauren, some unknown emotion flickering behind his gaze, before he stormed upstairs and back to his room.
Kara pulled Lauren close. “Thank you,” she said. “You gave me the courage I’ve been lacking.”
Lauren fought back her tears. “You deserve so much better.”
“We all do.”
9
Lauren pulled off her cream-colored silk blouse and tossed it onto her bed with the rest of the rejects. Clad in her bra and panties, she continued to search her closet. Why was she having such a hard time dressing for this date? She and Jesse were only going to the beach. This shouldn’t be such a big deal.
A sweater would probably be her best choice. The temperature was supposed to reach the mid sixties but it would be cooler on the water. She yanked open her dresser drawer and rummaged through her assortment of sweaters. Too formal. Too bulky. Nothing seemed right. Now what?
She opened another drawer, found her purple, short-waisted sweatshirt with Tweetie on the front, and pulled it over her head. Perfect for the beach. It was warm, comfortable. It was also not the least bit sexy. But it would have to do. She had run out of things to try on.
Choosing a pair of jeans didn’t put her in quite as bad a frenzy. Finally dressed and as ready
as she would ever be, she went downstairs to wait for Jesse. The house was silent. Thankfully, everyone was sleeping in after all the pre-dawn chaos.
No way could she have gone back to sleep. Still edgy and unable to relax, Lauren wandered from room to room. Ordinarily she paid little attention to the things in her parents’ home. Now she realize how much stuff her parents had accumulated. A velvet sofa, antique pottery, ridiculous bronze sculptures. Everything from the largest piece of hand-carved furniture to the smallest crystal candleholder was picked for the statement it would make. Their life was all about appearances.
How nice it must be to live in a home where the furniture was purchased for comfort and the flatware didn’t require a separate insurance rider. Lauren had yet to see Jesse’s apartment but she couldn’t imagine he had much use for twelve-hundred dollar candleholders. Life with him would be much simpler, happier. A healthy environment for children to grow up in.
Lauren’s eyes widened as she realized the direction her thoughts were heading. The sound of Jesse’s car pulling into the driveway saved her from having to examine those thoughts too closely.
Jesse had brought donuts, a tea for Lauren, and a root beer for himself. She smiled when she reached in the bag and found her favorite, a blueberry filled donut. In no time she was comfortably settled in for the long ride to the tip of Cape Cod.
As they sped along the highway, Lauren said, “Tell me about your craziest case.”
Jesse laughed. “Wow, that’s a tough one.”
“Too many to choose from?”
“You got it.”
“Does any one in particular stand out in your mind?”
Jesse thought a moment. “About a year ago this one guy came into my office,” he said. “It was a Wednesday morning. I even remember the time. Eleven-thirteen.”
“He must have made quite an impression.”
“You could say that.” Jesse laughed, shook his head. “He looked pretty normal. Early thirties, clean cut, short reddish hair. He was wearing brown Dockers, a beige long-sleeved oxford shirt. Brown suede Timberland shoes. And he was carrying a pretty big black umbrella, despite the fact that it was sunny outside.”
