Betrayed: Powerful Stories of Kick-Ass Crime Survivors

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Betrayed: Powerful Stories of Kick-Ass Crime Survivors Page 31

by Allison Brennan


  “I do. I know as a fact it’s true.”

  Grace doesn’t elaborate, but I have to wonder how she can be so certain. She reaches into her cart and pulls out an insulated lunch bag. She gets out a bottle of water and a sandwich and hands them to me, before reaching in and getting a water and a sandwich for herself.

  “My daughter, Stephanie, has the best recipe for chicken salad sandwiches. I make it every chance I get.” She removes hers from the plastic sandwich bag and looks over at me. “Go ahead and eat up. I brought extra.”

  I’m so hungry, but I can’t eat her food. “I can’t take your food, Grace.”

  “Please, you’ll be doing me a great favor by eating it.”

  When I remain still, she says, “Go on now and eat it.”

  Thankful for the food, I eat it slowly since my mouth is sore from being hit by Liam only several hours ago.

  On the bus ride, Grace keeps my attention off my own problems. She doesn’t ask me about myself but tells me everything about her life. I find her sweet and kind. She reminds me of my own grandmother before she passed away.

  Chapter Two: Kind Strangers

  When my stop approaches, we both stand.

  “Almost home,” she says.

  “Grace, I’ll get your cart for you.”

  “Thank you, Amber. Is this your stop, too?”

  “It is.”

  Once we’re outside of the bus, I follow her to the bench near the main road.

  “Are you waiting on a ride?” I ask when she sits down.

  “Oh, heavens, no. I live not far from here. As soon as I catch my breath, I’ll be heading over that way.”

  She reaches into her bag and begins knitting and then asks, “Do you have family and friends around here?”

  I want to lie to her, but somehow, I can’t. Sitting down beside her, I say, “No, I’ve never been here before.”

  “Where are you staying while you’re here?” She looks at me with kind eyes.

  I exhale loudly. “The truth is I don’t have much money, but I was going to try to get into a shelter tonight and look for a job first thing tomorrow.”

  “I see.”

  She puts her knitting needle and yarn back into her bag and slowly stands. I also stand with her.

  “You mind walkin’ an old lady home?”

  I look around and see that nightfall isn’t too far off. But how can I tell her no? “Grace, I’d be happy to walk you to your house,” I say honestly.

  On the walk to her house, as I pull her cart behind me, she tells me about the area. She shows me points of interest and tells me what things were like before they were torn down and rebuilt into something bigger and better.

  As we walk up to a white cottage with red shutters, she says, “Home, sweet home.”

  I look at the cozy cottage with flowerbeds overflowing with flowers of all colors. I watch her as she lifts up on the gate to open it.

  “Those flowers are gorgeous.”

  “It’s amazing what a little love can do.”

  What does love have to do with flowers? “What do you mean?”

  She stops and looks around her garden.

  “I planted all those flowers from seeds. Give flowers—or someone or something—what they need to grow, and they flourish. I give these flowers some clean dirt, water, and sunshine, and look at them. All living things need love, plants included.”

  I know she’s right. Deprive someone or something of that, and you take the best part of them. They stop growing, become weak, and eventually die. I get chills just thinking about the direction my life is going.

  “Grace, you have a beautiful home.”

  “Thank you. It’s not much. My husband, Bob, and I bought it when I was pregnant with Stephanie.”

  I follow her down the cobblestone walkway to the front porch.

  “Since Bob’s passing, I’m not able to keep up with the repairs.”

  Once we’re inside, I place her cart against the wall and say, “As soon as I get settled, I’ll come over and help you with the repairs. Make a list and I’ll do what I can.”

  “That’s very sweet of you, Amber.”

  I reluctantly remove my sunglasses so I can see inside the dim house. She looks at me closely, but she doesn’t say anything about my injuries.

  “Please, sit down,” she says, nodding in the direction of the couch.

  I take a seat on the beige sofa as she disappears into the kitchen. She returns with a glass of water, two Motrin, and an ice pack.

  “Here, take these, and use the ice on your eye. It’ll help with the swelling.”

  I take the Motrin as I try to think of something to say to her. I feel like I need to make an excuse for my injuries, but I’m tired of lying and covering up the truth. The truth is a man beat me, and why should I feel the need to cover that up? It’s not because I asked for it or deserved it. I didn’t.

  Grace waits for me to swallow the pills and drink some water before motioning for me to put the ice pack on my swollen eye.

  As soon as the ice is on my eye, she sits down and says, “I’m glad you got away from him while you could.”

  “Me, too.”

  She pauses for a moment and says, “Were you serious about fixing the repairs for me or were you just being nice?”

  “Yes, I was serious. Absolutely. I need to get settled first. But I’m happy to do whatever I can.”

  “If you’re interested in room and board, instead of cash payment, I have a spare room and Bob used to say I was a pretty good cook.”

  My eyes widen. “Really?”

  “In all honesty, there are more repairs needed than what you think.” She stands and gets her yarn and knitting needle from her floral bag. “The truth is, it gets pretty lonely around here since Bob’s passing. I could use the company.”

  I remember my grandma saying she was lonely after grandpa died. I think for a minute and then I remember Liam. If he finds me, he’ll start problems and I can’t put Grace in harm’s way. I decide to be honest with her.

  “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

  She looks up at me and I can see sadness in her eyes.

  “My ex is very violent and it wouldn’t be safe.”

  “Does he know where you are?”

  “No, I left in a hurry. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.” I didn’t have anyone to tell.

  “Then I think it’s pretty safe.”

  She smiles and puts my fears slightly at ease.

  “My guess is he ain’t that smart of a man.”

  “No, he’s not.” I feel safe in her home. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I am.”

  “Thank you, Grace.”

  “You’re welcome, Amber.”

  That night while in bed, I try to remember how my life got to this point. I had hopes and dreams. I had a great job and was going places. I was a strong, independent woman. What happened to me? When did it start and why didn’t I realize what was happening?

  I remember the first time he showed his jealousy. We were having dinner and he accused me of flirting with the waiter. We left in the middle of the meal and fought the entire way home. I told him it was over and I never wanted to see him again. He begged me for another chance. He said he was so afraid of losing me and he would get help if that’s what I wanted. In hindsight, I should have left and never looked back. But I was naive and thought it was a single incidence. Little did I know it was just an example of what was to come.

  The next morning when I get up there’s a note on the dining room table from Grace.

  Amber,

  I had to leave to run some errands, but please make yourself at home. I’ll be back shortly.

  Take these with some water; it’ll help with the pain.

  Grace xo

  Beside the note is a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water. Thankful for the pain medication, I take two.

  The coffee pot is left on, so I help myself to a cup. I feel awkward being left in her home alo
ne. She doesn’t know me, yet she trusts me to be here. After what Liam did to me, I doubt I’ll ever trust anyone again. Yet Grace trusts so easily.

  When Grace isn’t back after I drink my coffee, I decide to shower. I hope she won’t mind. The note did say to make myself at home.

  As I dress, I hear Grace in the other room.

  “Amber, I’m home.”

  “Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Take your time, dear.”

  I hear a man’s voice as I towel dry my hair. When I finally walk into the kitchen, I make sure to wear my sunglasses to conceal my bruised eye. A man is sitting at the table with Grace. She’s wearing a floral dress with her graying hair in a hairnet.

  Grace smiles and introduces us. “Amber, this is my friend Tyler. Tyler, this is my good friend Amber.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Amber,” Tyler says.

  Tyler stands from the table, wearing jeans and a grey shirt. His dark curly, hair has a healthy shine to it. He adds, “It’s my pleasure.”

  “Where are my manners? Would you like some sweet tea or coffee, Amber?”

  “No, Grace, I’m fine. Thank you.”

  Tyler rinses his glass out in the sink before walking to the kitchen door. “Grace, thank you for the tea, but I need to get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time. Amber, maybe I’ll see you again soon.”

  “Thank you, Tyler,” Grace says as he walks out the door.

  “Have a great day,” I say as he closes the door behind him.

  Grace turns to look at me. “Have you eaten yet?”

  “No, I’m not hungry.” I didn’t want to help myself to her food. We just met, and although I’m grateful to her, we are still nearly strangers.

  She stands from the table and puts on an apron. She places some bread, peanut butter, jelly, and a knife on the table. “I thought we could have a light lunch since we’re having chicken and dumplings for dinner.”

  I look behind her and I can see the stockpot on the stove. I’m not sure what to say. Her kindness is so unexpected that I find myself at a loss for words. “Grace, I can’t thank you enough.”

  She smiles. “You being here is thanks enough.”

  #

  Over the next couple weeks, I heal from my physical injuries, but the psychological damage will take longer to fix. I didn’t know the condition of my mental status until I was exposed to normal surroundings. Liam certainly had me confused and believing that I wasn’t worthy of anything good in my life.

  Grace and I walk daily as she pulls her floral cart behind her, never leaving the house without it. Tyler comes by almost daily; I have no idea where they go. She doesn’t tell me and I don’t ask. It’s none of my business. I have noticed that she doesn’t have other visitors or receive phone calls. Not even a call from her daughter or grandson.

  The next morning, I get up and nearly finish Grace’s chore list while she’s away. I’m not able to do everything on her list, but I’m able to do most of them. She seems pleased with my work and our living arrangements. Honestly, I enjoy her company. Grace is a Godsend, and I’ll never be able to thank her enough for what she’s done for me.

  While I’m working in the sun, I hear someone ask, “Do you need any help?”

  I brush the hair from my face. Looking over, I see Tyler standing there wearing jeans and a navy-colored tee-shirt. “Yeah, since you asked, I could use some help.” His eyes scan the picket fence that I just painted then part of the fence that still needs painting. “There’s an extra paintbrush and tray in the shed.”

  Without a word, he turns and walks in that direction. A few minutes later he’s standing on the other side of the fence directly across from me with his paintbrush in hand.

  “Did you bring Grace back with you?”

  “No,” he says. “She took the bus up to see her daughter and grandson this morning.”

  “Oh, I would have gone with her so she didn’t have to go alone.”

  He wipes the sweat from his brow. “I offered to take her, but she said she wanted to go alone.”

  It makes me sad to know she’s never gotten a phone call from her daughter or grandson. I never asked her about it, but I do wish that they would call her sometime. It’s none of my business, so I don’t say anything.

  “It’s warm out today,” I say to change the subject.

  “Typical weather for summertime.”

  I look at him and I see a hint of a smile on his lips.

  Yeah, my statement was stupid. “Can you tell I have no idea what to talk about?”

  “You’re looking better,” he smiles then looks away as he dips the brush into the white paint. It’s an honest statement.

  “Thank you. I’m feeling better.”

  “That’s good. How are things working out for you here?”

  I have to wonder how much he knows about my living arrangements. “Very well.”

  We talk about his job, where he’s from, and he also shares with me some things about his family. I’m surprised to learn he’s single.

  “My parents are both deceased and I’m an only child.” I don’t like talking about my family or the lack of one.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you.”

  After a few minutes, he asks, “Have you been out to enjoy the area yet?”

  “Grace and I walk nightly. Grace is very knowledgeable about the history of the town.”

  “That she is. It’s a lovely area. I’m sure you’ll like it here.”

  “The people seem nice.” When I say people, I mean him and Grace.

  He looks through the fence at me and for the first time I notice his crystal blue eyes. He smiles before looking away.

  As soon as the fence is finished, I stand, stretching my stiff back. “This looks great.”

  He also stands and admires our work. I never realized it before, but he’s nearly a foot taller than I am.

  “Not bad at all.”

  “I was going to make a sandwich for lunch, would you like one?”

  “I would love one. I’ll clean up the brushes while you make the sandwiches.”

  “Okay.”

  Liam would have expected me to paint the fence, clean up the mess, and fix lunch. He never would have offered to help me.

  I watch as he picks up the painting supplies and carries everything to the storage shed before I go into the house to start lunch.

  After lunch he looks at his watch and says, “I need to go, but here’s my card if you need me for anything.”

  “You mean if the shutters need tightened or a bedroom needs painting?” I tease.

  He laughs. “I can do those things too.”

  I read the card. Tyler Simmons, Attorney at Law.

  “You’re an attorney?”

  “Among other things.”

  I know he means he can now add painter to his list of other things. When he smiles, I notice his boyish features.

  “I’ll be picking Grace up at the bus station at six so she’ll be home soon after.”

  “You’re very nice to her.”

  “She’s my friend and that’s what friends do.” He places his dishes in the sink and walks to the back door. “She’s a rare gem. I just wish more people were like her. Anyway,” he says, changing the subject, “thank you for lunch and I hope to see you soon.”

  He leaves and I shower before Grace comes home. I have dinner ready when she walks in. “I almost didn’t recognize my house.”

  I rush over to her and help her with her floral cart. “I’ll get that for you.”

  “Thank you, but I wasn’t kidding about the fence. It sure did brighten the place up.”

  “I found some paint in the shed that was marked ‘fence.’ I didn’t have anything else to do today, so I decided to paint.”

  “Bob bought the paint and never got around to using it.” She slowly walks to the kitchen table and sits down. “I know that wasn’t an easy job, but I sure do appreciate it.”


  “It wasn’t so bad. Tyler stopped by and helped.”

  “He picked me up at the bus station and failed to mention that.”

  I’m not surprised. He doesn’t seem like the person to do things for the recognition of it.

  I notice she seems more breathless today, but she doesn’t say anything about it. “I made dinner. Sit there while I’ll get your plate.”

  “It smells delicious. I think old age is finally catching up with me.”

  At dinner she doesn’t mention her visit with her daughter or grandson. I want to ask, but it feels like I’m intruding.

  “I was thinking about walking over to the library tomorrow and applying for some jobs online.”

  Cutting her chicken breast, she asks, “Do you have any work experiences?”

  “Before I met Liam, I was a computer programmer for a large company.”

  “That’s wonderful. Is that a job you would consider going back to?”

  “I never considered that. I loved that job and never wanted to leave it in the first place. The only reason I left was because Liam wanted me to. Yes, I would love to work there again.”

  “Then I’m sure they’d love to have you back.” Grace takes a bite of her pasta.

  I get an unfamiliar feeling in my chest. Is that hope? It’s been so long, I almost forgot what that feels like.

  Chapter Three: Moving Forward

  The next morning while Grace is gone, I shower and walk to the library. I log into my e-mail although I haven’t used it in a year or more. I try not to think about Liam and the hold he had on me. I was a strong independent woman. Why did I surrender everything about me to him? Shaking those thoughts from my head, I check my e-mails. The most recent e-mail is from Liam. I swallow the lump in my throat as I delete it without opening it. He’s my past and I’m moving on to my future.

  I quickly log out of my e-mail and focus on the task at hand. I search the web for jobs in the area as well as online computer jobs. I’m disappointed when I see the jobs listed in the classified ads. Most of the jobs are for cashiers and pizza delivery drivers. These are all minimum wage jobs. That pay would make it tough to make ends meet, even with overtime.

  I was good at my job and when I left there, they begged me to stay. I wonder if they’d hire me back. I left on good terms. Why wouldn’t they? My heart fills with hope as I log back into my e-mail. I search for old e-mails from the company I worked for and from a friend I had while working there. My heart beats a little faster as a find an e-mail from Leila Bergman.

 

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