New Year’s Eve. One more year spent alone. Helen and I decide to forego all the club stuff and hit the movies instead. Popcorn and gummy bears are my dinner. Afterward we get pizza for dessert. Then she ends up spending the night at my place. My terrace is perfect for viewing the fireworks display that the city puts on. It’s magnificent. We watch it after the ball drops, then hit the hay.

In the morning, I make pancakes.

“I love pancakes. I remember my mom making pancakes when I was a little kid. That was before she kicked my dad out and things got crazy,” Helen says.

“I never knew who my dad was.”

“Lucky you. I wish I’d never known mine. He beat the shit out of me for shits and giggles.”

I almost drop the spatula. She never talks about her parents. I run to her side and hug her. “I’m sorry. I can totally relate.”

“Yeah, I could tell. We’re alike, you and me. Same shit, different house.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?”

I go back to the pancakes. Then Helen shocks me for the second time that day.

“Were you raped too?” she asks.

My lips press together for a second. “Yeah. When I was in foster care. Tell me your asshole dad didn’t do that to you.”

“No, not him, but his friends did. He let them. Said I deserved it.”

“Fucker.” My gut twists.

The sparkle leaves her blue eyes. “That’s when I ran. After I cut one of them.”

“What?”

She swipes her cheek, like there’s a tear there, only there isn’t. “It was during one of those rape sessions. At times I would vanish. Dive deep inside myself and disappear. But not that day. I got his pocketknife when he didn’t notice. And while he held me down, I worked my hand between us. Stupid fuck thought I was getting into it. Until that knife ripped his balls open.”

I gawk at her. “Holy shit.”

In a dead calm voice, she says, “He was screaming up a bloody storm. I threw on my clothes as Dad broke down the door. The knife was still in my hand and I told him if he touched me, he’d get it too. I reached for the phone to dial 911.”

“No shit.”

“Dad stopped me. Said he and his buddy would pay me to keep my mouth shut.”

“Why’d you do it?”

She shrugs. “I guess I was afraid no one would believe me. It was stupid, but I knew if the police showed up, I’d end up in foster care. I didn’t want that.”

“It was the smartest thing you ever did. Trust me.”

“Right. It’s brutal. I’ve had friends there.”

“So, did you get the money?” I ask.

Her rueful smile is answer enough. But she goes on to say, “Yeah, but it wasn’t enough to pay for a year’s rent. I did okay though. I got a job and managed. Got my high school education, then was trained on computers. Made enough money to eke by. I wasn’t starving, you know. Anything was better than life with Daddy.”

I’ve made enough pancakes to feed the entire building. I stack them up between us and sit across from her after pouring each of us another cup of coffee.

When I get settled, napkin on lap, she asks, “So, what’s your story? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No. It’s fine. We’ve been around each other enough. It’s pretty much the same, except I wish I’d had that damn pocketknife.”

“I’ve never been one to hurt others, but that was the sweetest feeling.”

“I can only imagine. Mine was the foster dad. Like I said, you did the right thing. My experience pretty much sucked.”

“No shit. A fucking nightmare.”

It’s more like a night terror. As I stare at the pancakes, my appetite flies away. “He would beat the shit out of me. Raped me too. But I ran away and they never found me. I made sure of that. When I turned eighteen I reported him. Ratted him out but didn’t leave my name or any contact information. By then my name was changed anyway.”

Helen eats, and I pick at my food. I can barely swallow. All I can think about is that bastard who stole my innocence. Even my mother, who wasn’t the greatest mom in the world, didn’t do what he did to me.

“And your mom?” It’s like she read my mind.

That brings a smile for a moment, but then it flies away too. “Ha. She was a stripper. But she got messed up with drugs. It’s how I ended up in foster care.” I shudder with the memory. “I wouldn’t go to school and I guess the teacher finally turned me in. They showed up at my house one day, and Mom was totally strung out. She could barely talk. I didn’t want to leave her like that, but those awful people made me. I was twelve. They dragged me out of her arms as she cried. She died two years later. I wanted to kill them for taking me from her. I was sure she would still be alive if they hadn’t. She made bad choices, but you know in all the shit she did and ended up in, I was never really scared in her care. She’d bring men home and I could hear them in her room, but they were never mean or bad to me. She’d get in arguments with them, but they’d always leave me alone. She just couldn’t stop using. I’ll never, ever try drugs.”

“It’s how I ended up at my dad’s. I stole Mom’s weed. She beat the shit out of me and dragged my ass to Dad’s.”

I reach across the table for Helen’s hand. “Aren’t we two sad saps?”

“Not anymore.”

She laughs and makes a muscle with her arm. “We’re phoenixes. We have risen above the crap.”

“Yeah, we have.”

After breakfast, I drive Helen home. We agree to hang out later today, possibly taking a trip to Venice Beach to people watch.

When I get back, my phone rings. It’s Harrison. Always the gentleman, I’m sure he wants to wish me a Happy New Year.

“Happy New Year, Harrison.”

“Ughhh.”

“You don’t sound very chipper this morning.”

“I’m blaming it on Weston and Prescott. They made me do it.”

“Sure, they did. You’re a grown man so you couldn’t say no. Is that it?”

A long groan hits my ear.

“I think somebody needs to exhibit a little more self-control.”

“I think you need to be here with me.”

Seriously? “Hmm.”

“Midnight, we need to talk.”

“I thought we did. I can’t change my past. What’s done is done. I don’t have a magic time machine to go back for a redo, Harrison.”

Another groan comes out of him and dammit, it reminds me of the sound he makes when he comes.

“I know. I still want to talk to you about us. But in person. After I get back. Can we do that?”

“I suppose. When are you coming home?”

“Tomorrow. Vivi has breakfast planned and then I’m flying out late morning. I’ll probably take off around noon or one. That’ll put me home around eight or nine.”

“Okay. Let’s just plan on Sunday, then.”

“Until Sunday.”

New Year’s Day is pretty boring. Helen and I laugh about it, as we watch all the couples jog, skateboard, and bike by.

“Aren’t we the lucky ones?” she asks.

“Maybe. Better to be single and happy than in a sucky relationship.”

“But I want to be in a good relationship.” She wears a droopy frown.

“You’ll find the perfect one someday. I’m surprised you haven’t already.” She’s beautiful, even when she wore her Harley Quinn pigtails, which she rarely does these days. Her clothes still border on the quirky side—striped leggings and polka-dotted skirts—but she pulls it off madly. “One day your she or he knight in shining armor will sweep you off your feet.”

“You think?” she asks as she blows a bubble.

“Yeah, I do.” I pop a gummy bear in my mouth.

Saturday morning, I check my mail. I forgot to do it the last few days. I also need to check my email. My agent has sent over some enticing offers that we’d talked about, so I’m eager to check them out. We’d already discussed my audition that Danny wanted me to do. If the other offers are better, I can hedge them against what Alta’s contract is.

As I scan the mail, an odd letter stands out. My address is handwritten, scribbled almost, but when I notice the postage mark, it’s from Las Vegas. I don’t know anyone there, but I open the envelope anyway. That’s a mistake I’ll regret for a very long time.