Ellie
Sandy tried to get me to go home after the incident with Connor, but I wouldn’t leave. I couldn’t do without the tips, even though the Inferno Hunters had left over a hundred dollars.
“You take half,” I urged her. “You delivered the dessert and cleaned up the plates and stuff.”
“You couldn’t help that,” she insisted, pushing the money toward me. “Please. Take it. You need it, honey. Stop being proud for a little while, okay?”
I couldn’t keep offering to give it to her, so I pocketed it with the promise to myself that I would do something nice for her at some point. She deserved it for being such a good friend.
The ironic part was it was such a quiet night I could’ve left without much of a dent to my take for the night. I only served a half dozen more tables, though I at least had the chance to sit and rest in between times.
Sandy sat with me at one point. “Are you all right?”
“I’m so tired,” I admitted. “Not just tired physically, though Lord knows that’s a very real thing right now. I’m tired in my heart. I don’t understand why Connor won’t let me go.”
“It’s a threat to his manhood, honey. The fact that you left him.”
“He doesn’t care about me,” I said. “He cares that I left him. It’s a blow to his pride. You’re absolutely right.” I put my head in my hands. The pain in my arms was exquisite—it was difficult to lift a tray, so I had to carry plates to tables to at a time. I couldn’t handle more than that. I had painkillers at home, so I could at least count on the pain going away long enough to let me sleep.
“You were right to leave him,” Sandy reminded me. It was like she could hear my thoughts.
“Sometimes I wonder,” I said. “Isn’t that sick? Sometimes I wonder if it was the right decision. I mean, he hurt me, yes. But it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I should have grown a thicker skin.”
“No way,” Sandy said, rubbing my back. “I’ve known a lot of women in your position, Ellie. And let me tell you, they don’t wake up one day and decide not to do it anymore. It escalates, in fact. Tell me. Did he start off hitting you?”
“No,” I admitted. “It was all verbal for a long time.”
“Right. Then he moved on to physical violence. And I bet that got worse over time, too, right?”
I only nodded.
“Oh, honey, you did the right thing. For you and your daughter. Who knows when he would have turned on her…”
“I can’t even think about that,” I said, shaking my head. It wasn’t like I never had. I’d carried the image in my heart—made-up, thank God—of Connor hurting Isabella. It was one of the only reasons I found the strength to leave him, the thought that he would hurt her one day.
“So stop blaming yourself. This is all his fault. And I bet he’s nothing but a lot of talk.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I said with a rueful smile. “He means every word he says. He’s determined to make my life a living hell. He’ll take away the one thing that’s ever mattered to me. He wants to drag me through the dirt, make me wish I’d never been so stupid as to leave him. Really, I wish I’d never been so stupid as to marry him. God, what was I thinking?”
“If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have Isabella. She’s a great kid.” Sandy smiled.
“Yeah, you’re right.” I smiled, too. Just the thought of my spunky, willful, whip-smart little girl was enough to make me feel a little better. Like there would be a good outcome to the situation. I had to adopt a little bit of the hope she ran around with. The endless hope of children.
By the time five o’clock rolled around, all I wanted was a hot foot bath and something for the pain. I couldn’t take it until Isabella went to school, though, since it would make me loopy. The thought of getting back home after driving her there was all that got me through as I drove home, my sore arms making it difficult to turn the wheel.
Why had I married him? It was a question which plagued me night and day during the worst times of my marriage, and again in the days just after my leaving. Why had I married him? Did I have any pride? Or was it that I didn’t think I could do any better? The thought was sobering and sad, and probably very close to the truth. I’d always been what the boys thought of as “cute,” but I was the good friend. I wasn’t tall or willowy. Back then, that had been the ideal body. In the ten years that had passed since the painful days of high school, a new body standard had come to pass: the curvy girl. My day had come.
Not that I was ever fat. I was petite, large busted, with a thick butt. No matter how hard I worked out, how little food I ate, I couldn’t change my basic body type. Boys didn’t pay attention to me, and my self-esteem suffered. Then, my freshman year of college, Connor showed up in my life as a teacher’s assistant. He’d been a grad student studying finance, and he must have sensed there was something in me that would respond well to something in him. Some wounded part of me. Like an animal sensing his prey.
I pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex I’d called home for the eight months since I packed up Isabella’s and my things and left while Connor was on a business trip. It was still the most daring thing I’d ever done. Sometimes I could hardly believe I was that person, the one who ran, who finally took charge of her life.
I remembered every time I turned the key in the lock on the weathered front door to my apartment. Every time I entered the tiny little living room with its popcorn paint ceiling and paneled walls. The only thing I could afford on the little money I made at the diner, and a far cry from the cathedral ceiling of the entrance the condo Connor still insisted I loved so much. It had been all his idea, obviously, as everything in our marriage had been. I did miss the space, though. The only thing I missed.
Mom was fast asleep on the couch, reruns of I Love Lucy playing at low volume on the TV. I considered turning it off, but instead sank into the beaten recliner beside the sofa and put my feet up. I let Lucy and Ethel take my mind off the myriad problems plaguing me. After an hour or so, I chuckled a little too loudly at a certain scene, causing Mom to wake with a start.
“Jesus! You scared me to death!” She placed a hand over her chest, eyes wide behind big, round glasses.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”
“No sense now,” she said, sitting up instead. “Besides, it’s, what, nearly six thirty? Isabella will be up soon. I might as well get going. Unless you need me to stay and help? You just tell me what you need.”
I smiled, about to tell her not to worry, but thought twice before I spoke. “Would you mind helping her out of her bunk when she gets up? My arms are very achy today.”
“Achy? What happened?” Mom reached for me, and I winced. I should have known better than to bring it up.
“Nothing, really. You try working a double shift with those heavy trays and see if your arms don’t kill you by the time you get home.” I tried to laugh, tried to keep it light. I failed miserably.
“Let me see your arms, Ellie Elizabeth. You know you’ve worked many a double shift, and you’ve never winced when I tried to touch you.”
I couldn’t argue with her. I raised one of my sleeves. Mom’s gasp wrenched my heart.
“What happened? Oh my God, Ellie. Did he come to the diner?”
I nodded, tears filling my eyes for the first time since it happened. It was like a floodgate opening, and before I knew it the entire wretched story poured out of my mouth. Mom looked horrified by the time I finished.
“Oh, thank goodness that man came in to help you. What if he had hurt you even worse?”
“Mom, it’s okay. He wouldn’t have hurt me worse. Really. I’m fine, just very sore. My muscles are screaming at me.”
“I don’t doubt it! You’ve said so many times that he’s so strong. I’m going to get some of those painkillers out of the medicine cabinet, and I’m going to watch you take one.”
“Mom, really…” I didn’t want to raise my voice and wake Isabella. I waited until she came back. “I can’t take one until Isabella goes to preschool. It makes me too loopy. I can nap until it’s time to go pick her up.”
“You’ll take it now, and you’ll go to bed, and I’ll take care of getting Isabella to school today. You have to do something for yourself for once. Let me take care of you.”
I wanted to protest, but on the other hand, I didn’t. It felt good having somebody fret over me. “You always take care of me,” I said, taking the pill from one hand and the glass of water from the other. I had a good half hour until the pill took effect.
“I want to. Just let me. Okay?” She went to the kitchen. “I’ll make some tea. You keep your feet up.” I couldn’t argue. I didn’t want to. There was something special about having my mommy around. One of the qualifications of an apartment was proximity to my mother’s house—a shame it was so small, or I would have moved in with her. But Mom downsized after Dad’s passing, so she lived in a little one-bedroom, single-story home with hardly room enough for her. Still, it was close enough that she could come over any time I needed her. It pained me to need her so much, though. I hated to think of a time when she couldn’t be such a help anymore. What would I do then?
I let myself zone out to the TV while Mom puttered in the kitchen. As if Fate were nudging me, a commercial for Happy Days came on—Mom loved watching her classic TV while babysitting overnight. The Fonz made me think of the bikers in the diner. One in particular.
That kiss. I closed my eyes thinking about it. I hadn’t had a kiss like that…well, in my entire life. It had been over eight months since anybody had kissed me at all, and even then, Connor’s kisses had devolved to the point where they were perfunctory. The way a brother might kiss his sister, on the cheek with almost no contact.
Parker’s kiss, on the other hand, had been magic. I’d gotten wet almost right away, an unknown wave of passion sweeping over me. I had no idea before then that I was capable of getting turned on so easily. I’d melted into him, holding on for dear life. My heart had raced, blood had rushed in my ears. The moment had been intoxicating…and wrong. So very wrong.
I hardened myself against the memory. I didn’t have time or space in my life for a man—any man, but especially not a bad guy like Parker and his friends. The last thing I needed was a criminal. I would never let myself get caught up in ill-fated romance again. And anything with Parker was bound to be ill-fated. No doubt about it.
Mom came back in, holding a tray with two cups of tea. I thanked her profusely. It might have been the exhaustion, but I felt like the pain meds were kicking in a little faster than usual. It was a relief. I would sleep for hours, pain-free. I might even have a few nice dreams.
Like maybe a dream about that kiss. I pushed the thought from my head, insisting it was nothing.
“Why are you blushing?” Mom asked.
I didn’t want to tell her, but I hadn’t even told Sandy, and I needed to spill to somebody. “The strangest thing happened after Connor left. Remember, I told you that man pulled him off me.”
“Yes, I’m so glad he did.”
I took a sip of the hot, fragrant tea, wondering how I could best phrase what was coming. “After that, we argued a little. I told him I didn’t think it was a good thing that he’d helped me.”
“Why in the world not?”
“Come on. You know how Connor is. I would hate to see this man’s life ruined because Connor held a grudge against him.”
“Oh. I see. Still, I don’t care. Your safety is all that matters to me.”
“Either way, we argued about it. And…well…he kissed me.” I blushed again, probably to the roots of my hair.
“What?”
“Mm-hmm. He kissed me, and it was nice. I mean, I’m hardly in love or anything, but it was nice. Unexpected. I told him off after, of course. I mean, he had no right to do it. Still. I didn’t hate it.”
Mom stayed uncharacteristically quiet, which was just fine by me. I saw a twinkle in her eye, though, and I wondered gleefully if she’d feel the same way after I told her Parker was part of an MC. I wouldn’t dare, though. She’d hit the ceiling.
Once I’d finished my tea, I stood. Sleep was a very real, very growing concern. I felt chatty, too, which told me the pill had started to take effect. Sure enough, when I raised my arms there was almost no pain.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Mom said, helping me into my room. The sun was starting its slow climb outside the window, telling me there wasn’t much time before Isabella had to get up. I moved as quietly as I could, slipping my uniform over my head and pulling on a set of sweats while Mom got Isabella’s clothes together for the day.
Before going to bed, I went to Isabella’s room and watched my little girl sleep. I’d managed to find a set of bunk beds for really cheap at a garage sale—she thought it was so cool, sleeping on the top bunk. Anything to add a little magic to her life.
She was still deep under, the way only kids can sleep. I wondered how she managed it. A bomb could go off and she’d let out another snore before rolling over.
She was on her back, head turned toward me. Dark curls like my own. I brushed one back from her forehead. As always, I counted the freckles on her nose. Seven. Same as before.
“I’ll never let him take you away,” I whispered. “I’ll protect you no matter what.” I stood on my tiptoes to kiss Isabella’s smooth forehead, then slid into the bottom bunk without thinking about it. By the time my head hit the pillow, I was already dreaming about knights on motorcycles. Knights who could kiss a woman until her knees turned to water and she wished she had done so many things differently.