Deserved

by Victoria Johns

  Making a hasty exit was my only hope of retaining some sense of control and pride. How dare he make me feel ashamed when he’d been doing something similar with another cut of meat in a different corner of the club? Pushing past him, I did my pants up in a hurry as I heard him shouting for me to stop.

  No, not this time. I made it to the exit before he could catch up with me and jumped into the first available cab, bursting into tears as soon as my ass hit the seat.

  “Christ, Lacey, are you okay?”

  Tommy. Just what I didn’t need. My kind of employer picking me up half drunk, completely ashamed and extremely upset.

  “Hang on… Why aren’t you at home?”

  “I asked first. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Bad night. Why have you left Carly on her own?”

  “She insisted. I have to work,” he told me, as if I were stupid.

  “Take me home please, and then get back to your twelve-year-old responsibility,” I shouted, realizing I was taking out my mood on him.

  Tommy looked at me with concern then handed me a tissue. “You need to calm down before you go home. Do you understand what Oli will do to whoever made you cry like this?”

  “I do.” Shit. He was right. Oli had been known to wait up for me to make sure I was okay before turning in for the night. I pulled myself together and told him to drive. The longer he waited for me to get my shit together, the longer he would be away from Carly.

  When we pulled up to the main house, he got out and came to help me out of the back of the cab. I finished blowing my nose and started to fuss with my hair. As I stood up in front of Tommy, he hesitated as though he was going to touch me, then changed his mind.

  “You… uh… have mascara on your cheeks… Bit of a giveaway that you’ve been crying.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled in return, wiping at my eyes. “Better?”

  When I looked at Tommy again, I felt my heart stumble. He was handsome, kind and caring—everything I deserved in a guy, not like the cock I’d just been about to fool around with, but he was ten years older than me and sort of my employer. I immediately began to think of how simple it would be if we could just find the one prince amongst all the frogs without all the drama and heartache. In fact, if someone had offered most girls of my age the option of staying single and then being presented with the perfect, available guy, I reckon we’d have taken that deal.

  “See you tomorrow, Lacey. Just head over when you’re up and ready.”

  “Thanks, Tommy. Can we keep this between us?”

  “Of course, cab code of honor.”

  That made me laugh, which felt great. “Listen, I can sit with Carly day or night. It’s no problem. I totally understand that you have to work, but you’re a parent now and you have a duty of care. She may act like she’s my age, but she isn’t and you’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. So next time, call me. I can sit in your house just as easily as I can this one. You’d probably be doing me a huge favor and saving me from another teary night anyway.”

  “You’re right, it was a silly ass move. I’m sorry. I should have known better. I appreciate the offer. See you in the morning.”

  As he drove off and I walked across the yard, trying to compose myself, I remembered what Lottie and Oli had said about objectivity and being impartial. Offering to be Tommy’s go-to sitter, day or night, probably wasn’t what they had in mind and could blur things, but everyone needed some help in order to make things work and get used to a change in routine.

  I knew once they found out they’d be less than happy, but it was done now. I’d offered.

  Lacey Talbot

  Over the next few weeks, we formed an easy understanding, one that was based on routine. If there was one thing I knew it was that routine was key to getting settled quickly.

  So, Carly and I would spend days on end at the library. It didn’t bother me and I knew that was what she wanted to do. I began to pack my own selection of reading material and paperwork that needed completing.

  After Tommy had left for work, we’d head over there to the study area where Carly would surround herself with books and begin to trawl through them. It was almost unreal that someone of her age found so much joy in reading, but stranger things happened and I was just grateful for the chance to keep on top of my casework.

  I tried to do different things for lunch, keeping that part of our day sporadic so she had some variety instead of being cooped up eating sandwiches back at Tommy’s all the time. Today, I’d decided to include him.

  Me:

  A few minutes passed before I saw the screen of my library-silenced cell phone illuminate.

  Tommy:

  “Hey, Carls,” I whisper-shouted. “Wrap it up. We’re gonna meet your dad for lunch.”

  “Cool,” she said at normal volume, which earned her some ugly glares from the poetry group who were meeting there. I chuckled to myself when I saw how embarrassed it made her, especially as the poetry lot were talking to each other at full volume. Idiots!

  Tommy wasn’t there when we arrived so I ordered for Carly and me, and then we sat at an empty table.

  “What have you learned about today?” I asked her, sipping my coke through a straw.

  “The combustion engine,” she replied seriously, like it was the most normal thing in the world. It even got an odd look from the waitress who delivered our food.

  “Honestly? Okay, hit me with it.” This was our thing. We always did it. Her self-studies were so obscure that I couldn’t wait to ask, and even though I’d never admit it to her, I was learning stuff, too.

  “I’ve read about the four cycles of a four stroke engine,” she declared nonchalantly. “Most petrol cars are four stroke. They used to be two stroke, but they gave off terrible emissions and weren’t as efficient—a classic case of technology improving conditions on our planet.”

  “What is?” Tommy asked, squeezing behind the back of my chair and placing his hands on my shoulders in an effort to shrink to only six inches wide. “Sorry,” he muttered to the old woman behind me when he didn’t manage to avoid bumping into her.

  “The combustion engine,” I told him, raising my brows.

  “Should I be thankful she’s not reading teen garbage or worried that she isn’t?”

  “Her quest to embrace all things factual and historical is its own reward, Tommy. Anyway, if she keeps learning about that stuff, she’ll have more chance of successfully servicing your cabs than you do.” I laughed.

  “I’m offended you question my manliness.”

  I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure how to. Questioning his manliness was not something I’d ever done. Tommy Sevens was all man. His physique was that of someone who looked after himself. Although I’ll be honest, I had no idea how he did that when most of the time he was sat in his office or behind the wheel of a cab. Tommy was a fan of body art, but the only tattoo of his I’d ever seen was a crazy design that covered his calf in its entirety. But it wasn’t his tattoo that did it for me, or his physique, it was his hair. Tommy had dark, cropped hair, that looked the color diesel fuel when the sun hit it and it was so thick. He sported a constant stubble that rasped when he ran his fingers over it. This action, like when he ran his hands through his hair, brought me to something so oddly sensual that I always found myself staring at them – the veins in his forearms. They moved when he flexed his arms, they moved when he gripped a fist or he was driving one of his cabs. They were mesmerizing. At ten years my senior he still had that something that sent hearts beating double time.

  The waitress reappeared with more food, placing a huge burger and fries in front of me and an omelet in front of Carly. “Enjoy your meals.” She smiled and then wandered off.

  “Where’s mine?” Tommy moaned.

  “Oops, I forgot to tell you with all the mechanical excitement that we haven’t ordered for you.”

  “I see. So now I
’m a lesser man who is going to go hungry.” He groaned.

  “Oi!”

  He laughed, having successfully removed the burger from my plate. “You snooze, you lose.”

  I was amazed at his audacity. “You did not just steal my lunch.”

  “Looks like it,” he told me, snarfing well over a third of it in just one bite. “Enjoy your fries. Just think of the favor I’m doing you with all those ugly fatty calories in this,” he chimed in a girly, sing-song voice.

  This was getting worse. “Did you just tell me I’m fat?” I replied, horrified.

  “No! Don’t be absurd.”

  I looked down at my plate of fries, suddenly feeling less than enthusiastic about them.

  “Lacey, has a bitchin’ figure,” Carly chimed in.

  “Yeah… well… Damn it, never comment on a chick’s body. These are rules to live and die by.”

  As he finished the words, the woman behind me turned around. “Young man, if I could give you some advice, it would be to stop digging. You are already at the bottom of that hole.” Tommy looked at her, surprised. He’d clearly never been called young man before, but considering this woman was somewhere in the region of three hundred years old, he was practically juvenile in comparison. “If my Alfred had said that to me, I’d have put him in the bottom of that big hole. Like the girl says, your wife is utterly alluring. Her beauty reminds me of my own.”

  “Uh… Ma’am, she’s not my wife,” Tommy told her.

  “Well that explains something, namely why your head is still on top of your shoulders.”

  “Uh…”

  “You, boy…” Oh my, he was only boy now. “You’re a looker. In my day, I’d have ridden you like there was no tomorrow, but she knocks spots off you. Burger and fries or not, that is one ass most men would like to see working hard, you get me?”

  Oh God.

  I was dying here.

  Carly laughed into her milkshake and Tommy was concentrating so hard I knew the slightest crack in his demeanor would have him howling the place down.

  “Now, I’m gonna mosey on out of here. Got me a hot date,” she continued, winking, grabbing her purse and walking cane, and shuffling at a snail’s pace to the door.

  “Well that told me,” Tommy said, reaching over and grabbing a handful of fries even though he’d just demolished my burger. I’d had enough at this point, so I reached forward and slapped his hand, causing him to drop the fries. “Now you’re just wasting good food, woman,” he whined.

  And that was pretty much how our lunch continued. Tommy and I waged war on each other while Carly chipped in to take my side. After all, there was a girl code at stake here and if that didn’t fly, two girls could always beat one boy up. Everyone knew that.

  Tommy Sevens

  We’d been getting on brilliantly. It felt easy because it was.

  On the rare days when I didn’t have to be at the cab office, I stayed at home with Carly, giving Lacey a well-earned day off.

  I always thought she’d spend those days off at home, kicking back and relaxing, but it didn’t take long for me to realize I was wrong. If Lacey wasn’t looking after my kid, there was a whole gaggle of them at the kids’ house who would fill that space. Lacey’s life revolved around the kids in Grove House.

  My latest day off happened to coincide with a water sports outdoor day. Lacey had already asked if Carly could attend, and as I didn’t have work, I decided I would go along, too.

  Lacey explained it was a chance for some of the inner city kids to have fun and experience rural nature, plus it was a way to chart the kids’ progress with things like interaction, communication and group development.

  It wasn’t long before I formed my first opinion. There was only one way to describe it.

  Hell.

  Seven noisy kids, a minibus, three big canoes strapped to the roof and a whole host of other shit and food dumped in the bus did not strike me as fun.

  The kids were all hyped up like they were on day release, and I suppose in a way they were.

  The next thing I knew, I found myself sitting in the front of the minibus and because I was an asshole, I started to panic and stress when I realized Lacey was our driver. So now, Hell was a bus full of screaming kids, enough equipment to visit Alaska, and a slip of a girl behind the wheel.

  Thankfully, the journey was short. It turned out our destination was the lake at the foot of Chesters Mountain Park.

  When we arrived, I was strong armed into untying the canoes from the roof and carrying them to the water’s edge with a couple of the bigger kids. When I turned back, Lacey had organized the other kids into offloading the food, life jackets, paddles and various other play items like Frisbees and rackets.

  “Okay, we’re going once around the lake and we stick together. No one takes a life vest off or jumps into the water without permission. One fouling of my T’s and C’s and the day ends. I’ll put everyone back on the bus and we’ll head home. Got it?”

  “Got it!” they all boomed back.

  “This flag here—” she showed them, then shoved into the ground, “—is your safety point. If at any point you get separated from the group, look for the flag and wait here. Got it?”

  “Got it,” they replied again, and I stood on the sidelines amazed at her commanding authority. I’d never seen her like this. I didn’t imagine there was much need to be this way on a one-on-one basis with Carly, but damn, Lacey was good.

  “Life vests on. I will be checking each of them before you’re allowed in a boat. We do a lap of the lake, come back here for lunch and then our Olympic games will begin. You all know which boats you’re in, got it?”

  “Got it!” they all screamed, getting excited now.

  “Tommy, you’re in boat two.”

  “Uh, come again… I’m what?”

  “You’re in boat number two,” she told me, hurling a life vest at me.

  “I’m not getting in one of those.”

  “Of course you are,” she challenged. “Who thinks Carly’s dad should be in a boat?”

  And then I heard the rumble begin. “Boat, boat, boat!” And as it got louder, the air of peer pressure hit me. When I saw Carly’s expectant eyes, I did the only thing I could. I put the fucking life vest on.

  Fuck, I really was a father. I was doing stuff to make my kid happy. With Lacey at the back of one canoe, me in another and the oldest boy looking after a third, we steered off. The water rippled around us and the day was truly underway. The kids were giggling nervously, and soon the sounds of our group were echoing around the mountains.

  This was what she did, day in-day out. Lacey gave these kids something fucking wonderful to look back on so not everything was all doom, gloom and worry.

  “Wow,” I heard the kid in front of me say.

  “Say it louder,” Lacey told him, paddling up beside us.

  “Wow,” he repeated.

  “Louder.”

  “Wow!”

  “Shout it. Louder!”

  “WOW!” The echo of his voice bounced around us in a rhythm that halted the kid in his motion of rowing. The look of amazement on his face was something else, only matched by the joy and pleasure on Lacey’s.

  As we glided, the water was the only thing I could hear until I noticed the birds chirping and the wind rattling through the trees. Then Lacey began something so simple it was magical—she started to point out trees and points of interest. The kids, who had been the noisiest kids on the fucking planet three minutes ago, all fell silent, taking in every bit of educational data she could share with them.

  When we made it to a designated point, we docked the canoes and Lacey announced a personal needs break. The kids all scooted over to the bushes and got on with taking care of nature’s call.

  “I never realized just what you did for these kids,” I said, walking up beside her.

  “I am a woman of many talents. Babysitting, nature lover, water sports guide and general lover of kids.”

  �
��They love and respect you,” I told her in complete awe. This girl had hidden talents that had completely passed me by. I knew she cared for Carly and kept her occupied while I was at work, but now I felt embarrassed because I’d thought that was all she did.

  Lacey did so much more. She gave them hope. I could remember being one of these kids, and had it not been for Tara, I would have turned out very differently. My life wouldn’t have been secure enough to provide a remotely stable home for Carly.

  After a few minutes, they all reappeared and we set sail again. I was feeling inspired and part of the process along with the kids. My brain was de-stressing and I contemplated doing this more often. Even though I could hear chatter, I still had some solitude and room to think.

  Until cold water splashed over my back.

  Cold water that sent a million tiny knives into my nerve endings, causing my back to spasm.

  “Oops... sorry.” Lacey snickered, not sorry at all.

  “Did you just flick water at me?”

  “No. It was my paddle.”

  “A paddle controlled by you,” I reminded her, feeling water dribbling down further and further until it finally reached the crack of my ass.

  “Sometimes this thing has a mind of its own,” she claimed, struggling not to laugh.

  I could only shake my head at her and laugh. The kid in me was desperate to exact revenge, and had the kids not been around, I would have got her back.

  We were close to our original starting point on the shoreline when Lacey decreed it was time for lunch. I helped some of the kids to get the boats out of the water, leaving me with a prime opportunity. I knew Lacey was going to be last out of her canoe, so I stood at the end of her boat waiting patiently, and as she stood up, I gently eased her canoe back into the water. Lacey didn’t realize until she began to wobble.

  “Whoa! What the…?” Then she spotted me. “Tommy, what are you doing?”