"Damn," I cursed, jumping back in time to miss the bags of noodles that fell from the top shelf of the storage room. I had been inventorying stock at the mission all day, trying to keep my mind off the conversation with Dante from the night before. His words had been weighing me down all afternoon.
I needed to come clean about Brent, but I didn't want to jeopardize the tenuous connection we'd built over the last few weeks. The routine we'd fallen into had proven to be a great distraction.
"You okay?"
The voice from the doorway startled me from my musings. "Oh, crap, you scared me," I said, looking over my shoulder and giving Helen, the director of the mission, a wan smile.
"Sorry. Here, let me help you," she said, squatting down in her billowy skirt, her kind eyes putting me at ease.
"Thanks." After we had gathered all of the packages and stored them back on the shelf, I swiped the dirt from my hands.
"I'm the one who should be saying thanks," she said, fixing her graying hair into a tight ponytail at the nape of her neck. "You have completely transformed this room. It's the most organized I've ever seen it."
"It needed it. I organized everything by category, then alphabetically starting from the bottom shelves and working up. Fruits and vegetables are over there. Starches and beans are here. I also made sure to stack the items based on their expiration dates so the oldest items will get used first," I said, surveying the results of my many hours of work with pride.
"Wow, that is amazing. And scarily anal-retentive. What the heck is going on, honey?"
"What do you mean?"
"You served your first meal just last week and have already put in more hours than most my regular volunteers do all month. Who or what are you trying to avoid?"
"Nothing," I said with a nervous laugh. "I have a lot of free time on my hands right now and I like to help." I grabbed the broom and started sweeping, avoiding Helen's discerning gaze. With a sigh, she overturned two wooden crates and gestured for me to sit.
"I appreciate your help. Now come take a break, or I'll have to kick you out before dinner service starts." I propped the broom up and sat down beside her. Helen pointed to a lone bag of noodles we'd missed. "It's crazy how something so simple as a broom and bag of noodles can bring back memories I thought had died with the man who made them."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh," she said, waving her hand, "I'm sure you don't want to hear my sob story."
"No, I'd love to hear, unless you don't want to talk about it." Although I hadn't known her long, Helen seemed so happy and put-together, I was surprised she had a sob story.
"One night I spilled a bag of rice on the floor, right before my then-husband was due to arrive home from work. I remember I was so frantic, almost in tears, because I knew what he would do if he came home to a mess. I was kneeling on the ground, trying to pick the grains up one by one. I was so out of my head, it hadn't even occurred to me to grab the broom. That was the power he had over me. He turned my brain to mush."
I wasn't sure I wanted to know, but morbid curiosity got the best of me. "What happened when your husband got home?"
She sucked in a deep breath and looked beyond the doorway to the kitchen, where volunteers were prepping dinner. "He asked me what I was doing. I told him I was cleaning up the rice. My fingers were shaking so bad, he laughed. He put his thermos on the counter and walked closer, and for half a second I thought he was going to help me. But then he stomped on one of my hands with his work boot and told me I was a stupid cunt."
"Oh, my God," I said, putting a hand over my mouth.
"It was a good night, all in all. I walked away with a few broken fingers, but at least I didn't have to put up with his attentions that night, in bed," she said with a nonchalant shrug.
I shook my head and rubbed a hand down my face. "That is horrible. Didn't your family find out?"
"By that time, I'd already withdrawn from my family and friends. I hated hiding bruises and making up lies. I was so ashamed that I loved a man who treated me worse than a dog."
"Why didn't you leave?"
"I did. Eventually," Helen said, rubbing her gnarled hands on her thighs. "It just took me a lot of years to realize that it wasn't my fault."
"How could you possibly think that was your fault?"
"He brainwashed me. I met him when I was your age. He was a lot older and took advantage of that. I thought it was my fault. That I deserved it. If I could just keep the house cleaner and have dinner on the table when he wanted, maybe he wouldn't have to hurt me."
"Why'd you finally leave?"
"My silence was hurting me as much as his fists were," she said softly.
The words chilled me to the bone. I swallowed past the tightness in my throat. "So, you took off?"
"I did, but not before putting that asshole behind bars for a few years. You have that same look in your eyes that I did when I finally ran from Robert." The woman was perceptive. She placed her hand on my bouncing knee and smiled. "You don't have to keep running, honey. Whatever is going on, we can figure it out. Together."
Her willingness to share her horrible past and the sincerity of her offer gave me hope. Maybe things weren't as awful as they seemed. Maybe divulging my secrets would somehow free me from their confines.
"Something happened to me in New York. About a year ago. A man I knew slipped something in my drink one night and did things..."
Helen patted my hand. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."
"I haven't told Dante."
"And you're worried if you do, he'll feel different about you?"
"I don't know how he wouldn't," I replied.
"Give him the benefit of the doubt. That boy loves you."
"You got all that from one evening with him?"
"You learn a lot about a person serving food beside them. The man couldn't keep his eyes off of you. Of course, you are the prettiest thing that's probably ever graced our doors, but still."
I chuckled. "What happened to your ex-husband?" I asked.
"He picked a fight one night soon after he got out of prison and was beat to death in the alley behind the bar. I didn't feel an ounce of grief. If that makes me a bad person, then so be it."
I shook my head and stared at the cans in front of us. I needed to tell Dante the truth, because the lie had been festering like an infected wound since Maui. No matter how scared I was, he deserved to know, even if it ruined our budding relationship.
Helen pushed herself up and patted me on the shoulder. "I know it's easier said than done, but don't let that man have any more power over you. Don't let fear of your past ruin your future."