Chapter 12
Sherri wasn’t at her desk on Monday morning at my father’s office. I crossed my fingers that she had taken my advice and was off looking for another job. If she hadn’t, today was probably going to be a rough one for her. I was there to tell him that I had moved out and I wouldn’t be back. I wasn’t going to be a part of his life in any way.
That was my plan, if I didn’t throw up or faint. If I could force myself to go inside.
Ian was doing ok. He was at school on crutches, getting plenty of attention. I told him that Maryam had been concerned and he seemed mildly interested. I still held hope for that working out. Our father had waited up, Ian told me, but he hadn’t spoken to Ian for the rest of the night once they got back from the hospital. He had been gone in the morning when Ian got up.
I was trying to steel myself, to calm myself, to force myself to put one foot in front of the other. I wanted to tell my father that I was acting alone, that my mother and Ian weren’t involved. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to call the police and start a search for me like he had for my sister, although I figured my empty room was a good hint that my departure had been voluntary. Mostly I wanted to warn him to stay away from my brother.
Digger had come inside with me and was waiting in the hallway just outside Sherri’s office. All I had to do was call, and I knew he would come. He had wanted to talk to my father himself but I didn’t want him involved. I was afraid for him and I had to protect him, like he did for me. So he was leaning against the wall, a huge, scary, beautiful guy wearing a visitor’s badge we had gotten for him at the security desk clipped onto his t-shirt. The auction house employees gave him a wide berth as they walked by him in the hall. He just nodded to everyone as they scurried past.
I made myself step forward and knock and open my father’s office door.
My father looked up from his screen. “Rebecca. Interesting that you chose to come to work today when you also chose to stay out all night.”
I forced myself to breathe in and out. “I’m not working here anymore.”
“Oh? When did you come to that conclusion?”
I was gripping the back of the chair facing his desk, my fingers spasmodically squeezing the leather. “I just wanted you to know. I’m not actually on the payroll so I guess it doesn’t matter to anyone but you.”
His eyes were so cold. Mine were the same color. As I stared at him, I wondered if I looked like that to people. Like I was freezing them with my stare.
“May I ask what you plan to do with yourself? How you plan to afford it? You don’t have any money, unless you’ve been stealing from me, too.” He looked at me. “No, you’re too stupid and weak to do this on your own. Someone is helping you.”
My heart stopped. He couldn’t find out about Digger. “No one's helping me. Mom and Ian don't even know I left. I wanted to…I have to…” Come on, Wreck! “Don’t touch Ian,” I blurted out. “If you lay a finger on him, harm a hair on his head…” I got so angry saying it that I finished the sentence. “I’ll kill you.” My voice was shaking. “I will. Don’t touch him.”
My father slowly stood. “You ungrateful, worthless, ugly little bitch.”
He didn’t like to swear. That was a bad sign. I stepped back. “You could be happy about this. I’ll be out of your way, you won’t have to watch me make dumb mistakes and mess things up. You won’t have to be reminded of what a useless failure I am. You can pretend I’m dead, like you do with Margot.” As her name left my mouth, I knew that talking about her was a mistake. His whole face contorted with anger.
“You presume to come in here and tell me how things are. You think that you will humiliate me like your sister did.” He stepped around the desk. He hated me. I could see it, I could feel it.
“Don’t, Daddy. Don’t come any closer.”
He kept walking. “You will come to regret speaking to me this way, Rebecca. You will regret this incident.”
I turned and ran. I threw open the door to the hallway and catapulted right into Digger, then I started pulling at him, trying to make him run, too. “Come on, come on!” I begged him. “We have to get out of here!” He stood firmly as my father came out behind me.
“Mr. Lindhart?” Digger asked. His voice was deep, and very, very cold.
“Who the hell are you?”
Digger stepped forward and leaned down over my dad. “You’re going to leave her the fuck alone, you piece of shit coward. Next time you want to hit someone, you can try me. I’d be happy to take you on and fuck you up.”
My father stepped back. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m issuing an invitation.”
My father stepped back again, then rushed into Sherri's office. I heard him lock the door. Now Digger let me tug him down the hallway, not running but moving quickly, with me looking over my shoulder, watching to see if my father would follow. He didn’t say a word as we got in the car and I reached over to lock the car doors, begging him to please go, drive.
We drove a few blocks down the road away from the office building and then he veered into another parking lot, turned off the car, and reached over for me. I climbed into his lap, wedged between the steering wheel and his chest, and sobbed.
“Rebecca, Jesus fucking Christ. Does he scare you that much?”
“Yes,” I sobbed. “He was coming after me.”
I could almost feel the anger radiating from Digger. “No, not anymore.”
“He will. I told him not to hurt Ian and he said he would make me regret it.”
“No. I won’t let that happen.” He ran his hand over my hair, down my back, soothing me. “You have to calm down, baby girl. You’re going to make yourself sick.”
I couldn’t. I had been scared of my father for my whole life. My earliest memories were of him telling me how stupid I was, backhanding me, taking off his belt. Besides little rebellions like sneaking out the basement window now and then, I had never openly defied him like this. Never. Now I was scared for Digger, for Ian, for my mom, too. I was afraid he was going to lash out at everyone to punish me. I cried until Digger’s t-shirt was wet and I was shivering with the cold, too.
Digger maneuvered me next to him. “Buckle up.” He started the engine, turned on the heat, and tucked the blanket from the weekend around me. “Do you want to go to the house?”
The thought of being there alone, without him, made me shake my head back and forth. “No!”
“Then we’ll go to the garage.” He drove and I sat, taking deep breaths to calm down, ashamed of myself.
“I’m sorry I got so hysterical.”
“Rebecca, the fact that you did, the fact that he scares you so much, makes me wonder what you haven’t told me.”
I shifted in the seat. I didn’t want to talk about it again. “I’m all right now.”
“Yeah, you are,” Digger told me. “You keep saying that until you believe it, too.”
If Lorelei at the garage thought there was anything odd about Digger coming in late with me wrapped around him, my eyes swollen and my body still shaking a little, she didn’t mention it. She didn’t even bat an eye.
“Oh, good. I’m glad you’re here, Rebecca!” Lorelei pulled me from Digger to hug me. “It’s that time of the month,” she stated grimly, glaring at him.
I looked at him too. “Reconciling accounts, inventory, orders, all that bullshit,” he said. “She makes it sound worse than it is.”
“It’s worse than it sounds, fuckstick. Our software sucks.”
“Or you don’t know how to use it.”
It was comforting, hearing them fight and insult each other. “I’ll help you,” I told her. “I’m happy to help you.” She smiled at me and Digger kissed me.
“I’m right in there,” he said, pointing at the door. “Right there if you need me.”
“I’m fine,” I told him, because I had promised myself in the car that I would be, or at least that I would act that way around Digger. I took the seat next to Lorelei and she tried to explain what she was doing. The software did seem confusing, and she didn’t understand it well enough to tell me what the main problems were except that “it all sucked.” I told her to go ahead with her other jobs, and I would try to figure it out.
I could hear muffled noise and sometimes Digger’s voice from behind the blue door into the shop and I started to relax. Gradually, as I got more and more involved in the intricacies of the automotive repair business, I forgot to be worried and sad and scared. I had texted Ian from Digger’s phone, telling him to contact Digger and me at the garage in case anything happened, and every time the phone rang on the desk I jumped a little. I did nearly come out of my seat when hands landed on my shoulders.
“Hungry? Lori usually goes to get lunch about now,” Digger said, his thumbs digging into my muscles. It felt good. “You should eat something.”
I rolled my shoulders, then my neck. “Yes, I guess I am. I think I’m making progress on this.”
“More than I ever did,” Lorelei put in. “She’s a smart little cookie. You coming with me to get the grub?” she asked me.
“Um…”
“Stay here for today,” Digger said. “I want you to stick close for now.”
Lorelei’s eyebrows went up. “Anything I should know about here?”
“There’s a very outside chance that someone may be looking for Rebecca, and I don’t want anyone to bother her,” Digger answered unconcernedly.
“You know I’m always ready to kick someone in the balls,” Lorelei said, and Digger winced.
“I know. Just as long as they’re not mine this time. Come here, baby. Let me show you what I’ve been doing to the T-Bird.”
I walked through the quiet garage, saying hello to the guys I was getting to know better. From the outside, the Thunderbird still looked the same, rusty and beat up. But when Digger opened the hood, there were engine parts inside!
“See?” he asked me. “There’s a long way to go. But we can make this right. All of it.”
I reached up and took his face in my hands and made him bend down so I could kiss his cheeks, repeatedly.
“Do you usually leave this early?” I asked hours later, as we walked out of the garage together.
“I put in a full day.” Digger’s eyes were alert, moving up and down the street.
“Does that mean you’re leaving early for me?”
“That means it’s time for both of us to go home. Don’t you want to see what they did there today?”
I definitely did. Every time the crew left, there was something new to marvel at, like real insulation in a wall rather than a wad of old newspaper.
We stopped at a grocery store along the way. “I had a fridge and a stove delivered,” Digger mentioned as if it were nothing. “So we can eat in.”
It made me think about what his mom had said, about how much money I was costing him. I resolved to work tirelessly to fix his bookkeeping issues. And make delicious meals, every day. And find an outside job. And do better with managing the construction. And grow a money bush in the back yard when the snow melted.
The guys were still there when we came in. The front door swung open easily when Digger pushed on it. “Hey,” he marveled. “I think you’re going to be able to get in and out on your own.”
We admired the new appliances, set up in temporary locations in the dining room. I went upstairs before I continued the tour and Digger went to look into the garage. I kicked off my shoes and lay down for a second. It wasn’t like I had done much that day, but crying my eyes out sure had been an energy suck. I was so comfortable and cozy. It was funny how fast Digger’s house had become my home.
I picked up my head. What was that noise? It was a funny little scratching coming from the wall. I walked around the room trying to pinpoint the sound, never my best skill. I crept softly over to the old vent in the wall, that Digger had explained was an old-fashioned system to move fresh air around the house. It was coming from in there. I leaned forward to look through the metal grate, holding my breath. Was there something…
Eyes were looking back at me from the vent. I stumbled away and screamed louder than I ever had in my life. I tripped over a bag of my clothes and landed with a thump on the floor. Only moments later, the bedroom door flung open so hard that the handle embedded in the plaster wall.
“Rebecca!” Digger shouted. It seemed like he flew across the room to me, still lying on the floor in shock. Behind him followed at least five workmen, and they all skidded to a stop, looking for the danger.
“What happened? What happened?” Digger was still kind of shouting. He picked me up from the floor, cradling me.
“There are eyes in there,” I said, pointing at the vent.
“Eyes?” Digger put me down and looked into the vent. He let loose with a string of the filthiest words that I’d ever heard that ended with, “Fucking raccoons!” He looked down at me. “Are you laughing now? You took five years off my life when you screamed like that.”
I covered my mouth to hold in the giggles. “It was looking back at me,” I choked out, laughing harder. Really, at any other time I would have considered a close encounter with a wild animal to be appalling. Now, after the past few days and everything we’d gone through, I had never found anything funnier.
Slowly, Digger cracked a smile, and then he stared to laugh too. “Fucking raccoons. We’re good here, boys.” He yanked the door out of the wall and closed it behind the workmen, who filed out staring at me, probably now thinking that I was crazy. “I feel like you owe me for this, Cinderella.” He advanced on me. “Now the only room that didn’t have a hole in the walls has one, and I have grey hair.”
“Blame the raccoon!” I tried to stop laughing and failed.
“Oh, the raccoon will get his, in the end. But right now, he’s long gone and you’re still here laughing your ass off over giving me a heart attack. Don’t worry.” He stepped even closer, and the look in his eyes made me stop laughing as it drove the breath from my lungs. “You have the whole rest of the night to make this up to me.”
I gave it my all, and both of us were happy with the results.
∞
The week had flown by. I had split my time between Digger's house and the garage, working at both as much as I could, speeding one of the old garage loaner cars back and forth, back and forth across the city. I considered it speeding. Digger had taken chalk and drawn a turtle on the faded paint on the driver’s side door.
The house was coming along: the ducts were getting cleaned and all possible wildlife entry points into the house had been sealed. I had checked that very carefully. The raccoon habitat in the garage was slowly emptying with angry animals exiting in cages every day, so that soon we wouldn’t be running our own urban zoo.
I dried my hands on my shirt and picked up my new phone, the one Digger had to buy for me. I flicked through the Lamb’s Academy website to find the number I was looking for.
“Office of Admission, Sylvie speaking.”
“Hi, Sylvie. This is Rebecca.”
“Hey! That’s so funny, I had just texted you but it wouldn’t go through.”
“I have a new number now,” I explained. “I wanted to say sorry that we, I mean, I didn’t come to your party last weekend.” It had been the night that I had moved into Digger’s house, and I hadn’t remembered until a few days later that I had said I would come.
“Oh, that’s no problem!” she said. “I think I told you that it was super casual. We’re on the hockey cycle, so every time there’s an away game on weekends, we’ll watch together. Tom is kind of a superfan. Come by this Friday! Bring anyone you want. You did say ‘we.’”
“Thanks, I guess, yes, we’d like to. Um, I don’t want to bother you about work stuff, but is there any news about admissions?” Lorelei was on pins and needles about Joaquim getting in.
Sylvie’s voice got very official-sounding. “We will make an announcement next Thursday for all prospective students.” She lost the voice. “Sorry, Rebecca, I can’t say anything besides that. How’s your mom doing? I heard she came to a book club thing at my parents’ house a few days ago.”
For some reason, that made me so angry I almost broke the wet mixing bowl I was washing with my hands, clenching it so tightly. “That’s right, she said your mom had invited her to join,” I said tightly.
“Yeah, it’s not really a book club, in that I don’t think they actually read any books together, but they seem to have a lot of fun.” Sylvie laughed. “I keep telling my mom they should change the name to ‘wine club,’ but she claims that they have very significant literary discussions, the liar.”
“Great.” I made myself loosen my death grip on the bowl. “I’m glad my mom getting out and having fun.” At least, I tried hard to feel that way. Good that she wasn’t missing me, worried about me. Good.
We chatted for a while longer as I sat on the toilet lid. It was definitely difficult doing the dishes in the bathtub in the guest bathroom, but I was happy that another room now had running water. I hung up with Sylvie when I heard the oven ding in the dining room. I placed the spoon I had been rinsing on the dish drying rack that Digger had hammered together and went to check on my bars. The plumber and his assistant were both waiting there, staring into the oven.
“We have to let them cool,” I told them, sliding the pans of coconut dream bars out of the oven and putting them on racks. They were easy to make, but I liked to add my own twist to the recipe and they usually went fast once I cut them. Digger had constructed a makeshift work table for me, and when the carpenter saw that I was using it to bake, he took a moment of his own time to spruce things up, thinking (correctly) that he would be getting to partake of what I made. It wasn’t exactly a commercial kitchen, but it was much better than squatting on the floor and using an overturned carboard box for my stand mixer, like I had been doing at first.
“Let us know when we can eat them,” the plumber’s assistant said, leaning over the hot pans and sniffing. I made shooing motions to get them out of the dining room. They could have a few, but most of these were for my brother and his teammates. Although Ian couldn’t get out on the court, he was still going to practices, and it was a great time for me to hang out with him. I was going every day so we could talk, and really, so I could check on him. So far, so good.
I looked at my phone again and thought about calling Tracey to give her my new number too. I hadn’t spoken to her since we’d gotten into the fight at her house, about whether Digger would want to see me again after we’d slept together. Well, I had been on the right side of that argument, but now I didn’t have Tracey as my friend anymore. I looked at the phone again and dropped it in my bag. It was time to drive to Lamb’s.
I was already waiting in the gym when Ian slowly swung himself in on his crutches. “I’m going to be sorry when these are gone,” he remarked, as he leaned them on the bench and sat down next to me.
“Does it hurt that much?” I started to reach for his leg, as if I could heal it with my touch or something.
“No, it’s a lot better. The swelling is way down. But do you know how interested women are in guys with an injury? Everyone wants to make me feel better,” he told me, grinning.
“For crying out loud, Ian.” I laughed. He seemed to be in a better mood than he had been for the past few days. “What about Maryam? Is she interested in making you feel better?”
He shrugged. “Whatever. I’m interested in older, mature women. I think they understand me more.”
I held in the urge to gag. “If you’re talking about Ilsa Brody…” I knew he had been in contact with her that week to talk about math.
“She’s amazing, Wr—Rebecca! Like, she’s so smart.” He sang Ilsa’s praises as we watched his team start running sprints. Ian waved to them and told them to go faster a few times, and they flipped him off.
“I’m glad she’s helping you with your school stuff,” I said carefully. “But remember that she’s a lot older. Like, a lot.”
“Same age difference as between you and Digger.”
Well, he had me there. “I just mean, your place in life is pretty different.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work.”
I sighed inwardly. I didn’t want him to get hurt, all over again. “I heard Mom is going to a book club,” I mentioned, to change the subject.
“Really? I haven’t seen her much around the house.” Our father had been coming in later and later from work and it seemed like Ian was spending most of his time alone. He said he liked it, being away from both of them. “That’s good that she’s doing something new, right?”
“Yeah, I’m really glad she’s out having fun,” I said, and the words sounded snide and vicious. My anger had bubbled up and I tried to calm it down. “I shouldn’t be mad at her. She’s a victim of him, too.” I was acting like Margot, blaming the wrong person. “Never mind. I’ll talk to her soon and see how she’s doing.” I paused, wondering how I could broach the next topic. Better to give it to him straight. “I talked to a lawyer about you yesterday.”
Ian’s eyes jerked to me. “Yeah?”
“It would be difficult, but we may be able to act legally to get you out of the house. It’s going to take time.” And a lot of money. Digger’s money, since at present, I didn’t have any of my own. I had wanted to start looking for a job outside of the garage but he had convinced me to lie low for a while longer, until we were both very comfortable that my father was going leave me alone. I hadn’t had any contact with my father since that day in his office, but I knew how he held grudges. He never forgot a slight against him.
Ian stared at the basketball court. “It’s ok, Wreck. Rebecca. It’s ok if it’s not going to work.”
“Ian, it’s not ok with me. I love you and I want you with me, wherever I am.” I tried not to get emotional in the school gym and also restrained myself from grabbing him and hugging him in front of his team. “I love you so much. I don’t want you to think that I’m forgetting you, leaving you behind.”
“I know you’re not. You text me fifty times a day.” He cleared his throat. “I love you too.” His voice sounded gruff. I changed the subject to the latest repairs on Digger’s house so we could both calm down.
As the team captain ran everyone through some drills, Evan, Ian’s coach, sat down on my other side and chatted to me for a while, so I turned my head toward him and tried to listen over the bouncing balls and echoes in the gym. He didn’t seem to notice that I wasn’t really responding. Ian just smirked. “Digger would love this,” Ian commented at one point.
I decided it was time to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told my brother. “Digger will come too, if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah, he said so.”
I stared at him. “Have you guys been talking?”
“He’s been checking in with me a lot,” Ian said. He didn’t look at me. “We talk about stuff.”
I got all emotional again, glad that Digger was looking out for him too. “That’s good,” I said, and used my coat collar to dab at my eyes.
It was pitch black when I left the gym and I was alone in the parking lot. I realized how jumpy I was when some old leaves skittered across the asphalt and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I hurried to the car and locked the doors. Was I always going to be like this? Always so afraid? I hadn’t wanted to tell Ian all of what the lawyer had told me, that it would an uphill battle to get Ian out of the house and living with us. He wouldn’t turn 18 until the summer, August, after his senior year ended, a year and a half away. I couldn’t wait that long and I didn’t want Ian to have to, either.
Digger did accompany me to the basketball practice the next day and acted very strange, sort of stalking around on the sidelines, arms crossed, frowning.
I was mystified. “What’s his deal?” I said aloud, as I watched him take another stroll around the court. “Is he on some kind of security detail for the team?”
“I told him about the coach hitting on you again,” Ian mentioned. “He was pissed.”
“Ian, that’s ridiculous! You don’t need to pretend things to try to make him jealous.”
“Who’s pretending?” my brother asked me. “Here he comes again. He reminds me of a dog waiting to bite someone.”
So I was laughing as Digger sat down next to me, put his arm around me, and pulled me close to him. “What’s so funny?” he asked, still looking like a thundercloud.
“You,” I told him. “You’re a funny bunny.”
The frown deepened. “I’m a bunny?” Never had anyone looked less like a bunny.
I kissed him on the nose. “Yes.” I kissed him quickly on the mouth. “I—” I stopped. I had almost told him that I loved him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
His face relaxed. “Yeah?”
I kissed him again, slightly longer. “Yeah.” I had to be careful with the kissing. It didn’t take much before we were ripping each other’s clothes off. Digger brushed his lips over my cheekbones and moved down to my mouth again.
“Knock it off,” Ian said. “Or get a room.” Digger reached behind me and cuffed him gently.
“Respect your elders,” he advised my brother. All three of us were smiling. I saw the coach staring at us.
“Maryam’s here.” I watched Ian’s expression turn stony as he studied his ex-girlfriend standing at the gym doors. Well, I thought she was his ex. It was a bit of a murky situation to me and I thought that Ian was just as confused. I had given up fishing and now was just demanding information from him: did you actually break up, and if so, what did you say? Do you know for sure that her parents hate you, and if so, how? He was so vague in his answers that it didn’t help much.
“She’s staring right at you,” Digger observed. “Don’t be a dick, man. Go talk to her.” Ian scowled at him, but he picked up his crutches and started moving over toward the doors. Maryam’s face lit up with hope.
I checked the time on my new phone, feeling guilty again about all the money Digger was spending. “We should head over to Sylvie’s house,” I announced. I kind of wondered how Digger was going to fit in with them. I wondered how I was going to fit in with his friends, whom we were supposed to see the next day. After his mom’s remarks on our way to Ann Arbor about how he led his posse, and how she had repeated that I had been keeping him from seeing his friends, I had pushed hard for him to go out. He had compromised with inviting a mob of people over to the unfinished house so I could meet them, too.
We walked by Ian and Maryam in the hall, talking intently. It looked like she was crying. “Ian, don’t be a jerk,” I murmured under my breath.
Digger didn’t bother to be quiet. “Don’t be a dick,” he said again as we walked by. Ian ignored him but Maryam looked up in surprise.
“Oh, Rebecca?”
“Hi, Maryam,” I said, smiling sympathetically as she wiped her cheeks. I had cried plenty of tears in the Lamb’s Academy hallways. Not over boys, but plenty of tears, nevertheless.
“Um, I was just asking Ian if he wanted to come over for dinner this weekend. My parents want to see him again.”
I glanced at my brother. He was staring down at his shoes, looking angry. “I’m not going there so they can bitch at me for corrupting their perfect daughter,” he sniped.
“Hey,” Digger cautioned him sharply.
“Sorry,” Ian mumbled to Maryam, who nodded.
“They don’t want to do that,” she told him. “They just want to get to know you better. And meet your family,” she said to me, looking anxious. “If you want to come, I mean. And you, too,” she said to Digger.
I looked up at him, so handsome, and sweet on the inside. And, frankly, a little scary on the outside, big and dangerous-looking. I remembered my first reaction to him: I’d wanted to simultaneously jump on him and run away. If Maryam’s parents were wary of Ian, they were going to freak out with Digger at their door. “We’d love to come,” I said, and I elbowed my brother.
“And your parents—” Maryam said, but all three of us answered her:
“No!”
“Ok,” she said, startled. “Then I guess we’ll see the three of you on Sunday.” She had her hand on Ian’s arm as he started to walk away.
“You stay,” I told him. “Digger and I have to run. Maryam, thank you for asking us. See you soon.”
Digger and I walked out of the building, with me twisting back to stare at Maryam and Ian as we did.
“Do you think that’s going to work?” I asked Digger. I was interested in his opinion. “I mean, do you think they can make it work?”
“I don’t know, Cinderella. Stuff is hard, right?”
In the gym, I had almost told him that I loved him. I put my arm through his and pressed my cheek against his skin below the short sleeve of his Brody’s Automotive t-shirt, the same one he’d been wearing the first time I saw him. Stuff was hard, for sure, but I was not letting go.