Desolation
“Hey Pippa,” Sofie says coming into the room. “This is Anabelle—she’s the girl starting tonight. I was going to take her under my wing, but George has given me a heap to do. Can she work with you?”
I nod, smiling. “Hi Anabelle.”
“Call me Belle.” She smiles, stepping forward.
Belle is gorgeous. Seriously stunning. She’s got an odd shade of blond hair. It’s not orange, it’s not blond—it’s somewhat of a strawberry-blond color, which, matched with her cornflower blue eyes and porcelain skin, makes her quite the beauty. She’s not much taller than me, and is built very similarly, too.
“It’s great to meet you, Belle.”
Sofie waves us off, and Belle steps inside the room. She stares around and then her eyes settle on me. “This place is impressive.”
“It is. Are you new to town?”
“Kind of,” she says, her eyes flashing with a darkness I’ve not seen in a long time. “I used to live here. I never planned on coming back . . . but . . . my momma is sick and my daddy passed a year ago. She has no one.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I say softly.
She shrugs. “Can’t control life, I suppose.”
“Did you live here when you were younger then?” I ask her.
She nods. “Yeah, I only moved away five years ago. I was, well, I am married, but things went bad. I haven’t seen my husband in five years, and I really don’t want to see him again. Only I don’t know how I’m going to escape that when we’re in the same town now.”
“Your husband and you aren’t close then?”
More pain and darkness fill her eyes, but she wipes it away with a smile. “No. He’s not a good man. Well, he used to be a good man. Then something happened. I don’t even know what. He changed and started fighting underground. Then he started an illegal fighting ring. I don’t know if he still does it. I don’t want to know. I’m just here to help my mom.”
Poor girl. It sounds as if whatever happened to her husband and her was more than painful.
“I’m sorry. Hopefully you can find a way to avoid him.”
She sighs. “I need a place to live, too. Mom lives in a tiny one-bedroom place. My sister is married and her house is tiny, too. Neither are big enough for my daughter and I.”
“You have a daughter?” I gasp.
She smiles fondly. “Yeah, I do. Imogen. She’s four.”
“That’s wonderful.” I beam.
“You don’t know any places going, do you?” she asks hopefully.
Yes. Mine.
I have a two-bedroom place, and I could offer Belle and her daughter a room without any hesitation. I consider it. It would be good for me, considering I’m trying to get out there and live a little more. It might be nice to have someone around to talk to, and she seems like a nice girl. And I love kids.
“I have a room, if you’d like,” I say. “It’s only one room, but it’s big enough for you and your daughter.”
Her pretty blue eyes widen. “But you don’t know me.”
I giggle softly. “Neither would I know any other person I ask to rent a room at my house.”
She chuckles. “That’s true. Is there anything you want to ask me?”
“You don’t do drugs, do you?”
She scoffs. “No.”
“Not an alcoholic?”
She grins at me, showing me two perfect dimples on her cheeks. She really does look like a doll. “No. I am a bit weak when it comes to cosmos, but I usually only indulge on special occasions—especially now I have Immy.”
“That’s okay.” I smile. “That’s not a problem for me. I know you have a husband, that you don’t want to see, but otherwise there’s nothing else that will cause big problems?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. I have no boyfriends, no crazy friends, I don’t really know anyone back here anymore. And the ones I do, well, they’re not fans of mine.”
“How come?” I ask, using my mop to clean up a spill.
“Well, let’s just say all my friends and my husband’s family supported him during our break. Probably something to do with me disappearing in the middle of the night without notice.”
I gasp and my heart aches. “I’m so sorry you have to endure something like that.”
She smiles weakly. “They didn’t look for me—at least, I don’t think they did because they never found me. Mom knew about Imogen, but she also knew what Max did to me and so she kept it secret, claiming she had no idea where I was.”
“Max is your husband?”
So much pain flashes behind her eyes. “Yeah, he is.”
“Are you getting divorced?”
She shrugs. “Getting divorced means I have to see him again, and tell him about Immy. I don’t know that I can do that.”
“Is he really so bad?”
She looks away. “He wasn’t always . . . like I said, something happened and he changed. He became so cold. He fell out of love with me, I guess. I don’t know. Whatever it was, I no longer became all he breathed for and our marriage was bad. I couldn’t take it, so I ran. I’m not saying I never want Immy to know her dad, but right now I’m not sure I trust the world he lives in.”
“Fair enough,” I say, meeting her eyes.
“Yeah,” she whispers, then forces a smile and claps her hands. “Well, we better stop talking or I won’t hold my job longer than half an hour.”