by Anna Scott
Nodding in relief, she went on. "I don't get it. You're gorgeous, sweet and have a rockin' body. Is there a reason that you haven't had sex?" She whispered the last. I could tell that she wasn't trying to be rude, she was just curious.
"No, I mean my parents were super strict, but mostly, I've just been really busy." My reasoning sounded lame, even to my own ears, but I didn't have a reason, not really.
"Okay, I think there is a little more to that - but I'll leave it for now. If you ever want to talk to me, I'm here. For anything - yeah?"
"Yeah, thanks."
"So tell me about Reed," she implored, and I did.
My tale began, I told Amber about my first date with Reed, how he didn't kiss me at first and even drove away, but then came back and kissed me stupid. I even told her about the other night on my couch and everything we did.
"He carried you to bed?"
"Yeah, I fell asleep on the couch."
"That's so sweet. I knew Reed was one of the good ones." Her smile was wide and her eyes had a dreamy look in them. She was right, of course but I had to fight my natural inclination to roll my eyes heavenward. Reed was sweet, but seriously, there was another side to the man I wasn't sure many of his friends had picked up on. I had only seen glimpses of it, but there was a darkness, something closed up so tight within him it would have to come out eventually. I saw it that night when we all ate out together, he'd been lost in his mind for a while, and I could tell by the tension in his frame that they weren't pleasant memories he was reliving. It could have been any number of things of course, the war, his job, who knew what else, but there was something. The one thing I was ever watchful of, the thing I wouldn't ever tolerate was a kind of underlying anger, an unpredictable rage that I had seen too many times in my own life. It was something I could spot at twenty paces. My brother had that unexplainable negative tension in his eyes, something that spilled over into almost every relationship he had, but not Reed. He was no choir boy to be sure, but he was innately kind.
Amber's phone rang just before ten. It was Trent, he was calling to check in. Realizing the time, we paid for our meal, left a huge tip since we'd taken up a table and had so many free refills of drinks and chips and Amber took me home. Reed hadn't called - again. I wasn't upset, I knew that he was busy, but I was starting to wonder if he had tired of dating me already.
The next morning came way too early, when my alarm went off at four, I rolled over and glared at the annoying device and slapped it off, probably harder than necessary. As I got up and got ready for the busy day ahead, I realized that I was moving slower than normal. If I wasn't careful, I was going to be late. Thankfully, Patricia, the older woman who worked for me, came into the cafe in the afternoons and got most of the batters and doughs prepared for the morning. All I would have to do was start the ovens and pop in the trays that would be ready to go in the huge walk in refrigerator. Clark was scheduled to be in at five-thirty to start preparing the front of the house, getting all the coffee stuff ready, so I should be okay.
The espresso machine had been my idea. My parents protested, but after they finally relented and added it, our morning business almost tripled. Not only did more customers come in to buy coffee, but the amount of pastries and food items increased too. My dad was stuck in the past, trying to keep things the same way his mom did so getting him to change with the times was almost impossible. I loved my dad, I really did, but he was a soft spoken man and not one to make waves. He stayed silent when my mother ranted, when my brother pestered and bullied and when I made changes he vehemently rejected and they were successful.
Thankfully, when they retired, they passed the cafe down to me, along with all the responsibilities and most of the decision making. After they moved to Galveston, I bought a panini press and added salads to the menu for lunch items. I had cut back on things like custom made cakes and pies, because that part of the business wasn't nearly as lucrative, but the number of people that came in for a tasty lunch surprised even me. It had given me the opportunity to hire Clark and Kara, as well as hire someone to come in every evening to clean. I loved the cafe, it was part of my heritage, but it wasn't my passion. I didn't want to spend my life working out of duty or loyalty to a family who wasn't always loyal to me. I wasn't sure what I would do with my life now that I was responsible for the family business, but I didn't want to wake up in ten years and feel stuck either. I had dreams and goals of my own growing up, though I wasn't sure how those ideas fit now either. I had wanted to be a large animal vet, a fighter pilot and at one point, I had wanted to work for Santa Clause. In defense of the last one, I was only four when I came up with the plan to move to the North Pole and make cocoa all day for the elves.
I had loved riding horses for years and had wanted to work with them in some capacity. When I began college, I worked through the general required courses with hopes of entering an animal sciences major. When my father fell ill and my parents left me in charge of the cafe, that plan fell to the wayside. I had also wanted to be a mother, to raise a large family bringing love and caring to the next generation. I wanted to give to my children what I felt had been missing from my own childhood. I was lost in the endless musings when Clark stuck his head through the door to the back and brought me back to reality. The cafe was packed and they needed serious help in the front.
My day had turned to total shit. The main register jammed and then froze for about an hour. Fortunately, we had the back up started so it didn't take long to switch over. I got a call from Kara that she had some kind of stomach bug and wouldn't be in. I really hoped that it wouldn't be like the flu virus from the previous winter. It had wiped us all out like dominos. As soon as one person got better, another fell into the pit of disgustingness. After Kara called, Lottie called. She was the person who delivered the milk, cream and butter from a local dairy. The truck had broken down, so my delivery was delayed by about five hours, which meant that I would have to stay after closing to receive it. I didn't have the option of waiting until the next day, Patricia would need the butter for the following morning's pastries.
My head began to pound when my brother called. My brother - God's gift to the earth, in his eyes at least and of course my mother's. We were not close, like seriously not close at all. He was eight years older than me, and had decided long ago that he would be the one to point out every shortcoming I had. Adam was married with two children. His son and daughter were, of course, the most brilliant and beautiful children that had ever been born, but Adam did his best to ensure that their self-esteems were crippled at every turn. His wife was beautiful, sweet and so smart, but he didn't have very kind things to say about her either. When they were in a group, however, every word he spoke was the highest praise. He was fake, and I didn't know why. Our parents were genuine people, the salt of the earth type of couple. I never heard my father say an unkind word to my mother, nor to any of us. He was strict with us, but not berating. Okay, my father was genuine, my mother was another story.
"Well, Gillian. What's this I hear about you needing to talk Missy into moving in with you so you can make end's meet?" Adam's snide tone and harsh words couldn't have been farther from the truth. He was still bitter that mamaw and papaw left me the house. Uncharitable as my thoughts were, I knew they were true.
"Hello Adam, it's good to hear from you," I lied through my teeth. I really didn't want to ever talk to him again. It wasn't that I hated him, I didn't. Well, maybe a little bit, but he was my older brother. He was just so damned pompous and a major know it all. He loved to point out any little deficiency in someone else, while appointing himself most amazing person in the world. Not only that, but he was a bully. No matter how young I had been, he was cruel to me and it never ceased to amaze me that my mother turned a blind eye to his machinations. Adam was absolute perfection in her eyes.
"What is this about Missy, Gillian? Are you really doing so poorly with the cafe? I told mom that you weren't smart enough to run it all by yourself, you need s
omeone there to watch you so you don't completely screw it all up like you do everything else."
"Things are actually going quite well, thank you for asking." I tried to cut him off before he could really start his rant, but I knew it was a useless endeavor. If he wasn't out and out rude, he would find a way to cut me down slyly. Adam was the master of the passive aggressive put down. It was a skill well honed over years of practice. "Missy is moving back to McKinney, she's found a job but I don't believe that she and Kelly will be living with me."
"I bet," he replied with a huff. He always got angry when I didn't let him upset me.
"Hey, Adam I need to run. Talk to you later." I said quickly just before hanging up. I knew he'd be annoyed but maybe he would forget before I talked to him again in another few weeks. Regardless of the way Adam treated me, he was at least respectful of our parents. I'd never known him to be anything but kind with them.
"Gillian!" Clark called from the front of the cafe. Grumbling, I stood up from the work table in the back and made my way out front. The local mom's club had decided to come in for a coffee and a cookie apparently, the place was packed. Strollers, diaper bags and baby carriers covered the tables. A couple of babies cried, while others slept and a few toddlers cruised around from table to table, exploring and likely searching for the elusive left over cookie.
It was forty-five minutes before the cafe was clear of mothers and their screaming little darlings. The tables were a mess of used cups, crumbs and used napkins. Clark and I got to work. It took twenty minutes before the area was clean once more and my head was about to explode. I felt the saliva in my mouth, the turn of my stomach and I knew. I just knew that I was going to throw up.
"I gotta...," I rushed, pushing my palm against my mouth as I strode quickly into the back. Thankfully, the bathroom was sparkling clean, so when I dropped to my knees and lost everything I'd ever eaten in my life I wasn't disgusted by a dirty bathroom too. I heaved and heaved until my stomach was completely empty. The lingering taste of bile coated my abused tongue which tasted something like burned peanut butter and helped to ensure that I would never eat again.
Perspiration dotted my forehead. The little man with the ice pick was doing his damnedest to break a hole in my skull. The light shining in the small room was way too bright and I was too hot. I had stood long enough to wash my hands and face and rinse out my mouth when I heard a sharp knock at the door. The sound was enough to have me groaning in misery all over again.
Chapter 5
Present Day
"What do you have for me, you piece of shit?" I snarled into the man's face. I hoped that he felt half the terror I did as he cowered before me and shrunk against the brick wall.
"I got nothin' boss, nothin'." Just as my arm wound back, ready to strike, Tyler grabbed hold of me.
"Come on, not now. Plenty of time for that shit later."
I shook my friend away and glared at the weasel slinking away. I gave a quick nod to Jake, who knew at least some of my pain and I watched as he grabbed the foot soldier turned snitch in DeMarco's army.
"Fucking shit!" I yelled, so damn loud the old buildings around us seemed to shake with the force of my fury.
Months Earlier...
Reed
"Hey man, how are you?" Clark called as I walked through the door at Cafe Fantasia. I couldn't wait to see Gillian. I felt like it had been weeks, not days since I'd last seen her. With all the shit going on with the DeMarco case, I hadn't even been able to talk to her much. I felt like an asshole really, I promised that I would call her and had failed. By the time I was in a safe place to make contact with her, I would look at the clock and realize it was the middle of the night.
"Hey, Clark. I'm good, you?" I scanned the area, looking for my girl but didn't see her. She usually parked in the alley behind the cafe, so I wasn't positive she was there.
"Good, you just missed a wave of crazy."
"Oh yeah?" I questioned, not sure what the hell he was talking about. He went on to tell me about the mothers' clubs recent visit and the mayhem that ensued.
"Is Gillian here?" I asked, after not fully listening to his diatribe.
"Yeah, she's um - she's in the back. I think she's sick." The grimace on his face gave away his concern.
What the fuck? Gillian was sick? Why the hell was this guy telling me random bullshit when my girl was sick? I rushed around the counter and passed him, headed straight to her. The bathroom door was closed, and I heard the water running. I pounded on the door, scared of what I was about to find.
"Just a minute," she called from behind the locked door. Her voice was off, quiet and maybe tired.
"Precious, it's me. Let me in." I yelled back, desperate to get to her. My worry was illogical, I knew it, but that didn't seem to matter much.
"Reed?"
"Yeah, Gilli, let me in."
It took forever for her to open the door, but when she did, I saw that her eyes were bloodshot and her skin was pale and clammy.
"Baby, what on earth is wrong?" I asked, reaching out and taking her into my arms. I kept my hold firm, but gentle. I needed to hold her, to know that she was safe and okay.
"Headache," she replied, her hand moving up to rub over her forehead, but she didn't say anymore. Her brows were scrunched, her lips pursed and her eyes squinted at the light, she must have been in some serious pain.
I tried to remember back, had I heard about her having bad headaches before? I couldn't think of any, but wasn't positive. Before I could utter another word, her face turned a ghostly shade of white and she swayed.
"Shit," I exclaimed and reached out to grab her up into my arms before she crumpled to the ground. I studied her closely, her eyes were open but not fully focused. I was scared as hell.
"Is she okay?" Clark asked when he stuck his head through the doorway leading to the front of the cafe.
"Not really, she has a bad headache. Are you able to close?" I asked, holding Gilli in one arm and reaching for my keys with the other.
"No, I'm okay. I just need to sit down for a minute." Gillian protested weakly.
"Yeah, I can close. I've done it a few times."
"Do you have keys and codes?" I asked, confirming he had everything he would need. I didn't want to have to come back after I took Gillian home.
"I have it, don't worry. I can open in the morning too if she isn't better. Let me give you my cell," he went on, while writing his number down on the back of an envelope and handing it to me.
Nodding my appreciation, I grabbed her purse and headed to the door.
"No, I have work to do," Gillian tried again, but instead of responding, I kissed her forehead and walked out to my truck.
"Do you have medicine at your house?"
"I just take Advil."
I placed her gently inside my truck and buckled her in, before walking around the front to get in on my side. I was going to take her to my house. I hadn't even been home yet and needed to let Blazer out. My mom and Gavin had been taking care of him for me but it had been a while since anyone was there and I needed to get home. Also, I knew that I had some decent pain meds at my place, and knew where everything was. I was going to wrap my girl up and nurse her back to health. I didn't know what was wrong, but when she almost fainted, I about lost my shit.
When I was about eight or nine, my little sister got sick. At first they thought it was a virus or something, I didn't remember, but eventually the doctors discovered that she had a rare and aggressive cancer. I could remember times after treatments when my sister would waver like that, turn white and then collapse on the floor. Sometimes, near the end, she would lose consciousness too. Those memories and the memory of her death and then my father's about year later, had probably made me overly concerned about Gillian's headache. On some level, I realized that, but I didn't care. I was going to be there for her no matter what.
She didn't give me any lip when I drove her straight to my house, didn't object when I carried her from the truck,
through the front door and straight to my bed and not even a word when I stripped off her shoes, socks, jeans, bra and shirt and replaced it all with one of my big tees. I knew she really felt bad when Blazer tried to nuzzle her hand, something she would normal encourage with lots of pets and love, but instead she rolled over and buried her face under my pillow.
I had to practically force Blazer out of my bedroom and into the backyard for a potty break. As soon as I opened the door, the dog ran through the house and straight to the doorway to my room. It was the strangest thing I'd ever seen him do, when he hit the open doorway, he skidded to a halt and walked so softly that even his claws didn't make a sound on the wood floor. Arriving at the edge of the bed, Blazer lifted one paw and then the other and jumped up onto the bed so gently, he barley moved it at all. He walked across the mattress over to where Gillian lay curled up and laid flush against her back.
"Baby, here's some Advil and water, can I get you anything else?"
Her hand poked out from under the pillow and felt around until she found the pills. She pulled her head out from underneath just long enough to pop the pills and take a quick swig of water. Immediately, her head was buried again. She kind of grunted, but I didn't know if she actually said no.
"Reed, honey, are you back?"
"Yeah, mama, I'm at home. Hey, I need your help."
"Are you okay?" The sound of my mom's voice had changed. She sounded worried and curious at the same time. I had asked for her to help me before, taking care of my dog, picking up my mail, stuff like that, but this was different and she knew it. My mother and I were close. After my sister died, it was just my parents and me. A year later, my father killed himself and then it was just me and mom. She was the only family I had. When Sandy dumped my ass, she was the one I talked to about it when I came home from my deployment.
