Breaking Out

by Lydia Michaels

  Certain things were expressly given as gifts, for Christmas or her birthday. Those items were not as difficult to take, but were, for the most part, cumbersome and useless and therefore left behind.

  She filled a small duffel with sensible clothes. It was getting warmer, so she was able to pack more, bringing only a few sweaters. Her toiletries were thinned down to the basics, shampoo, deodorant, a razor—she would never be able to go back to not shaving—and some very basic cosmetics.

  Parker had filled four paper sacks with food. “Don’t you have food?”

  His shoulder lifted and fell. “Sure, but this stuff will just go bad. Why waste it?”

  He had a point. She grabbed another sack and began to fill it.

  “How far is your place from here?” She probably should have asked that before.

  “We’ll have to get a cab. It’s not far. You’ll still be able to walk to work, but it’s late and we won’t be able to lug all this crap.”

  ***

  By the time they arrived at Parker’s apartment, it was almost eleven. Scout’s adrenaline had not stopped pumping since she made up her mind about moving, but she knew a crash was coming. When Parker left with most of the bags to hail a cab, she quietly shut out the lights and locked up the apartment, locking away that part of her life once and for all. She left the key inside, not wanting the temptation of returning hanging over her head.

  As she waited for the elevator, a sense of dread filled her as though she were consciously drowning herself. It took every shred of false dignity she could muster to get on that elevator and walk away. As the doors to the elevator shut and her body descended to the first floor, she felt as though a part of her life had been ripped away and entombed forever.

  Gone. Lucian and everything connected to him was no longer a part of her life.

  It was possibly one of the most painful moments of her life, and she would have buckled, rushed back up to her apartment, had Parker not been there to tug her along.

  He loaded her things in the back of a yellow cab and she silently sat, allowing him to direct the driver. So long as she kept moving she wouldn’t be carried away with the tide.

  They pulled up beside a nondescript brick high-rise. Parker handed a few dollars to the driver and unloaded the bags. She filled her arms and followed him through the glass double doors.

  The halls smelled like a mixture of ethnic cooking and paint. Gray carpeting stifled the sound of their footfalls as they made their way to the elevators. The place definitely wasn’t a dump, but it was nothing like Patras or even her vintage-inspired severance apartment. Parker’s place was . . . functional.

  He seemed nervous as they took the elevator up. “How long have you lived here?” she asked.

  “A couple months. It’s not fully decorated. I was more concerned with getting off the streets. I’ve saved a lot, not really sure what the point of decorating would be.”

  The doors opened and they stepped onto the landing. Parker shifted the bags in his arms and dug out a metal key. He unlocked a deadbolt then the knob and toed the door open. “After you.”

  Scout slowly stepped over the threshold and waited for him to turn on the light. There was some mail on the floor, which he immediately scooped up. The lights switched on, and she turned.

  The space was small, but open, with very little clutter. Two tall windows dominated the main area, and Parker had stuck a table for two in the space between. A radiator hummed from beneath one curtain. A wall of appliances with only a small gap of counter space made the kitchen. A plain couch sat along the other wall. There was a simple wooden table with a lamp and books stacked around the floor. No television.

  “This is the living room slash kitchen,” he said, stowing the sacks of food on the kitchen table.

  It was nothing special, but it was nice. She was slightly envious of what he’d achieved on his own. She could see Parker being completely content there. She dropped her bags on the table as well.

  He led her down a short hall. On the opposite side of the wall that held the couch sat a bed. This was his room. It was a good size, about the size of the main room, which was really two rooms, the living room and kitchen. Next to the bedroom was the bathroom. It was white, simple, and to the point.

  Parker dropped her duffel bag on the bed. “That’s it.”

  She looked at him. “That’s . . . that’s it? Parker, this is a one-bedroom.”

  “I know.”

  She suddenly wanted to cry. “You said it was big enough for both of us.”

  His chin lifted defensively. “Well, it’s not a luxury hotel, but it’s certainly big enough for two people. We used to share one room with two hundred homeless people, Scout. I’m sorry if this isn’t good enough—”

  “No, that’s not what I meant!” She ran a hand through her hair and breathed. Enough with the tears! “I just thought when you said it was big enough that you meant we’d each have our own room.”

  “You can have this room. I’ll take the couch.”

  “No,” she said adamantly. “This is your place and—”

  “This is our place and I don’t care.”

  “Well, I do. I’m not putting you on the couch.”

  There was a long, stubborn silence.

  “We can share the bed,” he suggested, looking at his shoes.

  “Or we could take turns, follow a sleeping schedule.”

  He looked ready to argue, but didn’t. “Fine. You take the bed tonight. I’ll take it tomorrow night.”

  “Deal.”

  They stood facing each other, neither looking the other in the eye. Was this a mistake? She supposed she could go back to her apartment, but the thought of facing all those memories again was repugnant. Besides, she’d fully cut the ties, gave herself no recourse by leaving the key behind. Shit.

  Parker moved to the dresser against the wall. The apartment was small, but underfurnished. Only the most functional items filled the space. He opened a drawer and removed a pair of sweats.

  “I’m gonna shower.”

  He left her there, and soon the squeal of water rushing through the pipes filled the walls. Scout quietly explored, first putting away the food in the kitchen, then peeking in the coat closet. There wasn’t much.

  She smiled at the various piles of books here and there. When she found a closet full of freshly pressed suits in the bedroom, she was caught off guard. First, the suits reminded her of Lucian. His clothes often returned to the suite in clear plastic similar to ones hanging in Parker’s closet. Secondly, she didn’t understand why Parker had a closet full of suits.

  The water shut off and steam billowed out of the bathroom into the hall. She turned and faced another unexpected sight.

  Parker stood, chest wet and hair damp, in a pair of low-slung sweats. She’d never seen him unclothed before. Although she had no point of reference, she knew he had put on weight. He was lean, but not rail thin like she’d assumed in the past. His body was cut and smooth.

  His arms were muscular in a very natural way. His shoulders were broader than what they appeared under his clothing. She swallowed and quickly looked away, her skin feeling abnormally warm.

  “I, uh, have some extra blankets in the closet there,” he said as he slid the suits across the rung. His voice sounded hoarse.

  When he turned, his arms were filled with blankets and an extra pillow. She was very disoriented.

  “Why do you have suits, Parker?”

  He frowned. “For work.”

  She felt incredibly selfish and stupid for not knowing what he did. “Where do you work?”

  “In an office downtown.” He shook off the statement. “It’s a job. I make good money and I’ve done really well for myself after only being there a short time.”

  “What do you do in this office downtown?”

  “I watch the
market and handle hedge funds.”

  Her brow lifted. “You know how to do that?”

  “Yeah. I used to watch my dad follow the market when I was younger. He taught me when I was a boy.”

  Parker had a real job. She was so impressed and speechless, she hugged him.

  His shoulders tensed, then relaxed. His arms slowly wrapped around her. His skin smelled of clean soap. “Hey, what’s this for?”

  “You. I’m so proud of you.”

  He laughed uncomfortably. “Thanks. I’m proud of you too.”

  He seemed reluctant to talk about his job. She stepped back and shoved him. “Don’t act like it’s nothing. You have a real job. I bet you even have benefits and a retirement plan working in a fancy office like that.” When he blushed she smacked his shoulder again. “I knew it! Parker, that’s incredible. You must be making a ton of money.”

  His expression grew hard. “I make enough to survive. It isn’t about the money, Scout. It’s a means to an end. That’s it.”

  She shook her head. This was the same argument they always had when it came to money. “Call it what you will, you have it, and because you have it, you have security.”

  He stared at her, unblinking, an odd expression on his face. Self-consciously she touched her hair and looked away.

  “I have security,” he agreed. “I could afford to take care of you.”

  She frowned. Where had that come from? For the first time ever, she wondered if Lucian’s theory about Parker was true. She suddenly felt like she might have made a huge mistake. He’s just your friend and he knows that. “Park, I . . .”

  “I know. You can take care of yourself. I’ve never doubted it, Scout.” That wasn’t what she was going to say, but before she could correct him, he surprised her by adding, “I just want you to know that you don’t have to worry about me being another bum. I’m not. I know you hated being homeless. I should’ve gotten us off the streets a long time ago. I could have. I just didn’t see the point. I hate the business world, but I’d do it for you.”

  She frowned. “You mean for you.”

  “Right.” He lifted his armful of blankets. “I’m exhausted. I stupidly allowed myself to get manipulated into sleeping outside last night. I’m gonna hit the hay.”

  She smiled and let him pass. As he made up the couch, she quietly watched him. When he stood, makeshift bed in place, she said, “Parker?”

  He turned and she could tell he hadn’t realized she was watching. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you. For everything.”

  He matched her smile and nodded. “Anytime, Scout. Anything you need.”

  Chapter 25

  Suspicions

  They arrived at the New Day Rehabilitation Center a little before noon. “This place is nice,” Parker said as he held the lobby door.

  Scout carefully signed them in at the front desk and handed Parker a visitor’s pass. “Yes. It’s a shame Pearl doesn’t see it for what it’s worth.”

  He pinned the visitor’s badge on the lapel of his tweed jacket and offered a sad smile. His hand gently coasted over the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “She will . . . eventually. It takes time.”

  Scout led them down the long corridor. Doors were decorated with bunnies and cutouts of colorful flowers. She envied the childlike decorations because they reminded her of what a grade school might look like, although she had never attended school.

  Pearl’s door was open, and they found her sitting in a chair by the window in her room. “Momma?”

  She turned. Her complexion was so much more alive than it had been in the years past. “Scout.” Pearl smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her face was a bit fuller. She no longer looked the eighty pounds she had been when they admitted her.

  Parker stepped in behind her. “Hi, Pearl.”

  At this, her mother’s eyes lit. “Parker! My, my, you looking good. What brings you here?”

  “I came with Scout.”

  Pearl looked back to her. “Where’s that other man?”

  “Lucian isn’t here.”

  “Good. I don’t much like him. He bosses me and I don’t like to be bossed.”

  Scout shot Parker a quelling look when he snickered. “How are you feeling, Momma?”

  “Old. I wanna go home.”

  Scout sat on the clinical-looking bed dressed in bleached linens. She should probably see about getting her mother some colorful blankets. “I’m working on it. I’ve moved into a new place.”

  “I don’t see what there is to work on. I gots a home. Never needed no invitation to go home before.”

  “Momma, you can’t go back to the mill. We’re going to get a new home, as soon as I save enough money. You’ll have your own room and we’ll make it our own like we never had before.”

  Pearl crossed her arms over her narrow chest and made a rude noise. It was nice seeing her dressed in put-together clothing that fit her body and matched. “I don’t need no fancy home. I got my own stuff. Or I used to until that bossy man stole it all.”

  “Lucian didn’t steal your stuff, Momma. Whatever was salvageable is here.”

  She shook her head and mumbled, “There ain’t shit here that belongs to me.”

  Parker sat beside her. Scout picked up a brochure resting on the bed tray. There was a picture of flowers and writing on it. “What’s this?”

  Pearl shrugged unknowingly. Parker took the pamphlet.

  “It’s an activity schedule. Pearl, do you do these things? They have art classes and pottery. That sounds like fun.”

  “What am I gonna do with art classes, Parker? I don’t want to hang out with those people. The nurses all talk to me like I’m four.”

  He put the pamphlet down. He might as well throw it away. Pearl would rather stew in her room than socialize with people she thought were better than her. She would never ask someone to read it to her, and Pearl could only read street signs with pictures.

  “How are you feeling, Momma?”

  Her mother’s gaze drilled into hers. “Achy. Hungry.”

  “Did you eat?”

  “They’ll be bringing me lunch soon. Made me go see a dentist. I got teeth pulled and thems is sending me out to get some new teeth.”

  Scout knew immediately this was not a perk offered by the center, but something Lucian had arranged. Dental work cost a fortune. She had gone to the dentist for the first time that winter and had a cavity filled. Pearl’s teeth—the few she had left—were in bad shape from doing so many drugs.

  “You’ll look beautiful with a new smile, Momma.”

  “What’s I got to smile for, Scout? Use your head.”

  Parker looked uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “Scout got a new job, Pearl. She’s working at Clemons Market now.”

  “That man finally stop paying you?”

  Scout’s cheeks flushed. Anger surfaced hot and tense under her skin. “He wasn’t paying me. I just worked for his company for a time.”

  She laughed coldly. “You giving him some and he buying you stuff . . . it’s all the same.”

  She couldn’t bear to look at Parker. Her eyes prickled. How was she supposed to convince herself that she’d been more that Lucian’s glorified whore if her own mother didn’t believe her?

  “Lucian and I broke up.”

  “He find someone else?”

  Scout’s jaw trembled. “Maybe,” she rasped.

  The weight of Parker’s hand on her arm was a comforting presence. He squeezed and she met his gaze. She found sympathy swirling in his green eyes. “He’ll never find anyone as good as you,” he softly whispered, surprising her. She smiled back, sadly.

  “Now that you ain’t with that rich man no more I suppose I’ll be leaving here.”

  Scout turned back to her mother. “No, Momma. You can stay as long as you’d like.” />
  “I’d like to have left yesterday.”

  Again, she bit her tongue, not wanting Pearl to know the choice to stay or go was hers. She quickly changed the subject. “I’m living with Parker for a while.”

  Pearl smiled at that. “You two finally saw some sense.”

  He lowered his head and Scout saw color chase up his neck. “No, Momma, it’s not like that. Parker and I are just friends.”

  “So says you. Parker looks like he might disagree.”

  “Momma!”

  “It’s okay, Scout,” Parker quickly said.

  Her gaze jerked to his. Her expression tightened as she gave him a pointed look, waiting for him to correct Pearl’s assumption. When he didn’t, she frowned.

  Scout stared at him, a world of questions swirling through her mind, Lucian’s accusations about Parker’s feelings front and center. No. They were friends.

  “Parker . . .” She shook her head.

  He smiled softly and squeezed her hand. The motion carried more affection than she was comfortable with. All of his casual touches over the past few days seemed to have accumulated into a heap of confusion she kept sweeping to the back of her mind.

  She withdrew her hand and stood, moving to the window so she could look anywhere but at him. Pearl said something and she vaguely heard Parker’s voice as he replied. Scout frowned as she stared through the glass. They were friends. Only friends.

  They stayed with Pearl for about an hour. Scout’s head was a mess with questions. He couldn’t like her like that. Their history was too long, too comfortable, and intimacy only spoiled simple affection. And she loved Lucian.

  Although Lucian left her. She needed to stop thinking about him in terms of still being a part of her life. She was better off going back to her old way of thinking, when she didn’t love anybody. But no matter how she tried to turn off her emotions for Lucian, she couldn’t.

  As they took a cab back to the apartment, she thought about last night. Had she really called him? She dug through her bag in search for her phone. It was so painfully telling that he hadn’t called her back.

  “What are you looking for?” Parker asked from beside her.