Victim Of Circumstance

by Freya Barker

  Liz, the lone waitress tonight, comes by to pick up empties and asks who wants refills.

  “Round’s on me,” Bunker calls out to the bar, then he turns to us and says, “Haven’t laughed this hard since Frank told Eddie Bank’s cousin he was cut off because he couldn’t see straight anymore, except the guy was legit cross-eyed.”

  Robin bursts into renewed laughter and this time I’m chuckling too.

  We never finish the game, but spend the rest of the night sitting around a table with Enzo and John, who regale us with funny anecdotes. Robin has had a bit too much to drink and is still giggling when she gets up to announce she should get home. There’s no way I’ll let her drive home like this, but before I have a chance to say anything, Enzo gets to his feet.

  “I can drive you.”

  The old bastard turns a shit-eating grin on me.

  “You don’t need to do that,” Robin says, swaying a little on her feet as she waves a limp hand in the old man’s direction.

  I’m on my feet in a flash and put a stabilizing arm around her.

  “No he doesn’t, ‘cause I am.”

  She twists her head and smiles up at me.

  “You are?”

  “Bunker,” I call out. “Taking Robin home.”

  With a nod for John and a glare at a grinning Enzo, I wrap her coat around her and guide her to the door.

  “What about my car?”

  “We’ll take care of it tomorrow morning.”

  “Mkay,” she mutters, shivering under my arm.

  It’s freezing. I mentally cross my fingers my truck will start; it’s been a little unpredictable these last few days with temperatures dropping.

  “Oops.” I have to grab onto her with both hands when she stumbles and almost falls in the parking lot.

  “Easy, Sunshine.”

  I manage to lift her up in the truck and am buckling her in when she starts running her fingers through my hair.

  “You’ve got nice hair.”

  I’m struggling to get the damn belt buckled, with her thick coat getting in the way, and all the while she plays with my hair.

  “So thick. Don’t you have any bald spots?” I can feel her fingers digging through my hair, looking for one.

  Finally the buckle clicks in place and I immediately remove her hands from my head.

  “No bald spots,” I assure her, but when I look at her face she’s gone pale. “You gonna toss your cookies?”

  She shakes her head sharply.

  “No. I just realized I have to work the early shift tomorrow. That’s not good.”

  “You’ll be a sore puppy. Let’s get you home and to bed.”

  I close her door, round the hood, and get behind the wheel.

  “I drank too much,” she mutters, mostly to herself, when I pull away from the bar.

  “Three glasses of wine,” I remind her.

  “Should’a stopped at one. I’m a lightweight, but I was having so much fun.”

  “That’s good. I had fun too.”

  “I’m gonna hate myself in the morning.”

  It’s on my tongue to agree with her, but she doesn’t need me rubbing it in. Instead I focus on the road. She’s asleep and snoring lightly when I pull up outside her house. When I open the passenger door, she blinks her eyes open.

  “Give me your keys. Let’s get you inside.”

  She fishes a keychain from her coat pocket and hands it over before I help her down from the cab.

  Inside the kitten is waiting, and Robin almost goes down trying to pick the thing up.

  “I need to check his food.”

  “You need to go to bed,” I tell her firmly, taking the cat from her hands and giving her a nudge in the direction of her bedroom. “Go on. I’ll look after the cat.”

  I watch as she cautiously moves down the hallway to her bedroom door. Then I take the cat to the kitchen, fill its bowls with water and some dry food, before setting him down on the floor. Like a growing boy, he immediately makes a beeline for his food bowl.

  I dig through her cupboards, find some ibuprofen and fill a glass with water before heading to her bedroom.

  She doesn’t respond to my knock so I open the door, finding her half-dressed on her back on the bed.

  “Too tired,” she mumbles.

  “Sit up for a minute, Sunshine.” I hand her the pills and the glass of water. “Down both now. It’ll help you feel better in the morning.”

  She does as I ask, and forcing my brain elsewhere, I quickly help her strip out of the rest of her clothes and tuck her in bed. The cat jumps up and curls up beside her, darting a suspicious look my way. I snatch the second pillow off the bed, press a kiss to her forehead, and head to her couch, where I make myself comfortable.

  Tucking my arm behind my head, I close my eyes and feel a smile on my face.

  I had a great fucking night and am starting to believe a decent life may be possible.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Robin

  Sweet Jesus.

  The sound of my alarm carves like a blunt serrated knife into my skull, and I can barely peel my eyes open. Desperate to stop the torture, I slap my hand in the general direction of my nightstand, knocking shit off in the process, but the incessant beeping won’t stop.

  The door flies open and a disheveled Gray come barreling in, a wild look in his eyes.

  “What the hell?”

  “Make it stop,” I groan pathetically.

  He takes in the scene and immediately dives for my alarm clock, punching buttons until he finally rips it clear out of the socket. Then he sets everything back on the nightstand and sits down on the edge of the bed.

  “I take it you still feel like shit?” he asks, brushing hair off my forehead. I nod gingerly. “Maybe you should take a day off.”

  “I can’t. I have to do payroll today, so everyone gets their money before the holidays.”

  I fling back the covers and realize I’m only wearing panties. The rest of what I was wearing yesterday is piled on my dresser. Gray’s eyes quickly avert and he’s on his feet like a shot. Funny, since I’m pretty sure I recall him undressing me.

  “Okay, then hop in the shower,” he suggests, already reaching for the door. “And I’ll bring you more water and drugs, and will get coffee going.

  It’s with a great deal of willpower I manage to get myself in the shower. The stream of warm water does make me feel a little better as I make quick work of washing my hair. When I pull back the curtain, I see Gray left me another glass of water and a couple of ibuprofen on the vanity which I down immediately.

  In the kitchen, Gray is standing over the stove, the smell of coffee and frying eggs filling the air. I’m surprised to find myself hungry. No nausea, and the deep throbbing in my head seems to be waning.

  “You stayed the night?”

  His head swings around and I notice his eyes are clear, as opposed to mine looking bloodshot and bleary in the mirror just now. That’ll teach me to drink more than one.

  “Didn’t seem safe to leave you,” he says with a shrug before turning back to the stove.

  It’s a new experience having someone be protective of me. That’s usually my job, to shield and protect. Rick was possessive; there was little caring involved in that and all about ownership. Dad had always looked out for Mom, so I automatically took on that role when he died. Although now with the new man, I wonder if he’ll step in. That remains to be seen. Of course Paige has always been my responsibility, and I don’t know if that will ever go away.

  “Thank you.”

  He glances over and gives me the slightest of nods.

  “Over easy?”

  “Sounds good.” I sit down and take a grateful sip of the hot coffee he slides in front of me, alongside a plate with eggs and a piece of toast.

  It’s still dark out when we head into town.

  “Want to pick up your wheels now, or after your shift?”

  “Now, please. I’m feeling better, but I’m sure
I’ll be crashing at some point. I’d rather not have to worry about picking it up then.”

  I look over at him and cover his hand on the gearshift with mine.

  “And, Gray? Thank you for looking after me last night.”

  He glances at me sideways and a smile tugs at his mouth.

  “Any time, Sunshine.”

  “Why do you call me that?” I ask, genuinely curious. It’s not the first time he’s used the nickname.

  He doesn’t answer immediately, and I’m about to ask again when he pulls up next to my Honda in the Dirty Dog’s parking lot and twists in his seat.

  “That’s what you are to me. I spent most of my life living under dark clouds, and the first time I saw you I was able to feel the sun on my skin. Doesn’t matter how gloomy the day, I catch sight of you and everything lights up.”

  I can’t find adequate words, so instead I lift his hand and press a kiss in his palm to convey how deeply moved I am.

  “I’m glad,” I finally manage.

  “Me too,” he simply says, before leaning over and brushing his lips over mine lightly.

  “I should go,” I mumble.

  “I know.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “I know that too.”

  I reach out and stroke a hand over his face before forcing myself to get out of the truck. When I’m behind the wheel of my SUV, I look over and see him lowering his passenger side window. I roll down mine as well.

  “Give me a shout when you’re done,” he calls out.

  I smile, give him a thumbs-up, and drive over to the diner with a smile on my face and a warm glow in my heart.

  I almost drop the tray with dirty dishes when I hear a loud scream followed by a crash. Quickly setting it down by the dishwasher, I dart out of the kitchen to find Kim and a few patrons crowding around Jess, one of our part-timers.

  “Robin, we need a clean towel and water!” Kim calls over her shoulder.

  I dart back in the kitchen where Jason hands me a mixing bowl to fill with cool water. I grab a couple of clean linen towels and soak them in the bowl of water.

  This isn’t our first rodeo; working in the food industry, burns are an almost daily occurrence, but mostly minor. It doesn’t sound so minor this time and I can see why when I walk up to the group and see Jess sitting on a chair, tears running down her face.

  Her right arm is stretched out over the table with Kim keeping a firm hold. Her skin on her forearm is already forming blisters. That’s not good.

  Someone must’ve dumped water on her already, judging from the puddle on the table, and I quickly fish the first towel out of the bowl and drape it over her arm. I follow it with the second one when I feel Jason at my back, handing me a roll of gauze he must’ve grabbed from the first aid kit.

  “Hospital, sweetheart,” Kim tells the girl. “That’s a large burn. You need to have a doc look at it. I’ll take you to Clare and we’ll call your parents on the way.”

  “I’ll stay,” I offer, knowing it’ll likely be at least a couple of hours.

  When Jess is loaded in Kim’s car, I head back inside where Donna is making sure the patrons are looked after. Luckily it’s not that busy. Yet.

  I clean up the area by the coffee station, where she apparently dropped a pot of hot water, and am just inspecting the floor for stray shards of glass when Becca walks in.

  “What happened here?”

  “Jess dropped the hot water,” I tell her as I get to my feet. “She’s pretty badly scalded. Kim took her to the ER in Clare.”

  “Well, shit. So we’ll be short-handed?”

  I take in the sour look on her face and am instantly annoyed.

  “No, we’re not. Donna can help until six and I’m staying until closing. We’ll be fine.”

  I’m not looking forward to working with her. Not because she doesn’t work hard—she does—but her attitude with me sucks. I’ve avoided her because I know myself; sooner or later I’m calling her out on it, and I’d rather not do that with a restaurant full of diners.

  She huffs and rolls her eyes as she brushes by me to hang up her coat and grab her apron.

  I take a deep breath in a prayer for patience.

  Gray

  “I’ll go.”

  It started snowing around five, not long after Robin called to tell me one of the girls got hurt and she’d be working until closing.

  We were just notified by the Sheriff’s Office of an accident on the county road north of town. One car is off in the ditch and the other is blocking one of the lanes and is not drivable. Luckily, it’s a Sunday night and not many folks are out on the road, especially in this weather.

  I shrug on my coat and pull a beanie over my ears before grabbing the tow truck’s keys off the pegboard.

  “Be careful,” Jimmy yells after me when I walk outside.

  “Yes, Mom,” I call back, mocking him.

  I slow down when I drive by the diner, trying to catch a glimpse of Robin but catching one of Becca serving a couple sitting by window instead. She came by Olson’s asking for me when I was out on a run last week. It would seem she’s interested in rekindling something that’s been dead for decades and wasn’t much to start with, even back then.

  I’d lived in Clare at the time, working at Brookwood Auto Repair, and Becca was a waitress at the local watering hole. I knew at the time she was looking to get hitched, something I had no interest in, but I was riding it out while it lasted.

  I was a cocky bastard back then, high on myself and high on life. I sometimes wonder if things had been different if I would have turned into my father: a drunk, a womanizer, and an abuser.

  Aside from the fact Becca bailed the moment trouble hit, there’s a bigger reason I don’t like her anywhere near my life; she reminds me of a time, and a version of myself, I’d rather forget. The fact she works side by side at the diner with Robin feels wrong.

  I see the brake lights of a handful of cars stuck behind the accident and maneuver around them to get to the scene. The front of the pickup truck blocking both lanes is badly damaged, indicating a head-on collision. The car in the ditch is almost unrecognizable, a crumpled mass of steel. I can’t see how anyone would’ve survived that kind of impact. The Beaverton fire department is already there. Behind me I hear the sound of sirens as the first ambulance pulls up.

  A deputy points me to the side of the road and instructs me to wait until first responders have cleared the accident victims. In the back of his cruiser, I see an older gentleman I presume is the driver of the truck. He looks to be in shock.

  The next twenty minutes, I wait and watch as a second ambulance arrives, while the fire department extricates someone from the wreck in the ditch. My heart sinks as I watch EMTs cover the body on the stretcher with a sheet. Somewhere someone is waiting for this person to come home and instead will find law enforcement at their door.

  While the snow keeps falling, my heart grows heavy as my own grief blooms fresh and raw. Memories of the last conversation I had with my sister, the last hug my mother gave me, float to the surface like treasures I desperately cling onto.

  When both ambulances leave, one with the distressed old man and the second with the other victim, I’m told to haul the pickup to the police yard in Gladwin. The other vehicle will go on a flatbed they called in. I’m relieved to finally be doing something instead of sitting in the truck surrounded by ghosts.

  By the time I finally get back to Beaverton, I notice the lights at the diner are off. The roads are treacherous and I’m suddenly struck with a vision of Robin’s SUV crumpled in a ditch somewhere. I’ve barely pulled in behind the dark shop when I have my phone out, already dialing.

  “Hey.”

  I let out a deep breath at the sound of her voice.

  “You’re home,” I confirm.

  “Just got in, it’s bad out there.”

  “I know, I just got back from a tow. Bad accident north of town.” I get out of the tow truck and start walking to my
pickup while I’m talking.

  “Oh no. People hurt?”

  “Yeah. One casualty,” I find myself sharing.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and I can feel her compassion like a comforting touch. “Are you okay?”

  “I am now. Knowing you’re home safe.” The declaration is followed by a drawn out silence as I climb behind the wheel. “Robin?”

  “I’m here. I just…I should probably tell you not to worry about me, but…is it awful I really like that you do?”

  I chuckle before I answer. “No. Besides, it would be useless. It’s not like I could stop if I wanted to, and I don’t want to.”

  “Good.”

  “How’s the girl? The one who got burned?”

  “Jess? She’ll be okay, but out of commission for a bit, which means we’re juggling the schedule again.”

  I’m sure it’s a busy time of year too, like it is at Olson’s. It’ll only get worse if this snow persists. Jimmy does residential snow removal as well, which normally isn’t that much. If what’s fallen so far this season is any indication, we’re in for a busy winter overall. We may soon need to put out a second plow.

  Between both our work schedules, it may not be easy to find time to see each other.

  “What time are you working tomorrow?” I ask.

  “I start at lunch but will probably work ’til closing again.”

  “I’ll try to pop in.”

  “Okay,” she answers softly, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

  “Get some sleep.”

  Like a fucking teenager I don’t want to hang up. I should, because I’m freezing my balls off with my ass on the subzero vinyl seat, but I don’t have the heart to start the engine and rush her off the phone.

  “I will, you should too.” She sounds like she’s about to end the call when she adds, “Oh, and Gray?”

  “Still here,” I rumble.

  “Thanks for caring. It makes life less lonely.”

  Chapter Eighteen