“Hello, I’m Lauren Santiago.” So, maybe I hadn’t legally changed my name, but since I was nineteen, I’d unofficially gone by Santiago. All of my social media accounts, including the dental office’s website, reflected that. I knew that if Monica ever sobered up, she’d easily be able to find me. Josué’s last name had given me a sense of security.
I extended my hand and the woman gave me a firm shake in return.
“Elizabeth Turner. This place is great—if I was still a kid, I don’t think I’d ever want to leave!”
I beamed. “Thank you.”
Dr. Mulloy and I had spent many late nights redesigning the office and, while I didn’t agree with her color choices, everything else was perfection.
Elizabeth and I got to know each other over the next thirty minutes. She’d grown up in the area and had been working at one of the local supermarkets while she finished college. If I thought she looked good on paper, sitting down with her only reinforced that.
She was smart, funny, and had a lot of great ideas for expanding our marketing within the community. I kept my fingers crossed under the table as she won me over; praying that she was the hire that would solidify my role as office manager. Dr. Mulloy needed to know that I was invested in the future of the practice.
“Well, well. Seems like someone deserves a bottle of champagne for all her hard work today.” Dr. Mulloy popped up beside me just as I was locking up my office for the night and I jumped.
I swear that woman needed a bell around her neck.
I nodded and swung my purse up onto my shoulder. “Yeah, you’re gonna love Elizabeth. She’s smart and has a lot of enthusiasm, which is perfect since we’re surrounded by children all day.”
She nodded and walked with me to the back door. “Honey, I hired the best so that, in turn, she could hire the best. I’m proud of you, Lauren.”
Dr. Mulloy held her key fob up to the panel until it beeped, unlocking the back door. She held it open for me with her hip and I walked out, still in shock from her compliments. At first, I was certain that the evening sun was playing tricks on my eyes, but when I blinked, the person was still standing on the sidewalk near both of our vehicles.
Monica.
In my addled state, I tried telling myself that it was pure coincidence, but deep down I knew better. There was no reason for her to be in Texas. No reason, but me.
“Hey, Doc. Why don’t you head on home? I’ll see if I can help this woman.”
I knew I had to act quickly before Monica introduced herself and cost me my job. While she looked much healthier than the last time I’d seen her, there was still a roughness there. Her teeth were blackened with decay from years of meth use and her once beautiful blonde hair was matted and thinning in areas.
Dr. Mulloy eyed her skeptically and whispered, “I think we might want to call the cops to help her out. She’s filthy and probably carrying a weapon. How did she get all the way over into this part of town?”
Wow.
She really thought that homeless people only congregated in one area. It was simply another reminder that she was painfully out of touch with the real world. I bet if she knew half the stuff I’d encountered while living with Monica, she’d try to have my apartment moved to the ‘other side of town.’
I patted her arm reassuringly before all but pushing her into the tiny sports car she adored. “I got this. File it under office manager duties. See you tomorrow!”
She agreed, but gave me a confused stare as she backed out of her parking spot and drove away.
I exhaled slowly.
One down, one to go.
“What can I do for you, Monica?” If it was money she wanted, she’d come to the wrong place. My paycheck had only lasted until rent was due.
She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the slight chill in the air. It wasn’t really cold, but she needed more than the lightweight t-shirt she had on. “Hey, pumpkin. You’re looking good—got yourself a job and everything.”
I pursed my lips. “How’d you find me?”
I’d been so careful…at least I thought.
Monica pointed to the building. “You’re on the Facebook—I just searched your old email address and up popped this picture of my little girl. I saw the new last name and just knew that you’d done it. You married the old guy. Congrats!”
She’d said it all so earnestly that I found myself biting my cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity of her reasoning, while simultaneously kicking myself for getting roped into managing the social media accounts for the office. I’d known that it was risky, hadn’t I? But I somehow convinced myself that the last name was enough.
Why hadn’t I used my work email to sign up for a Facebook account?
How was it that Monica could remember the email address I got in high school when she couldn’t even remember to keep me fed growing up?
I scanned the deserted parking lot, searching for something to say. She’d stolen from me—from us—the last time I saw her. She’d used us to satisfy her addiction. We were nothing more than a means to an end.
I held my chin high and faced her again. “The last time I saw you I ended up losing my graduation gifts. What makes you think that I would want to see you again, Monica?”
She stared down at the ground, completely silent.
I continued, “You left me in that run-down duplex, while you went off and got high. If it hadn’t been for Josué’s suspicion that all was not well at home, I’d have been raped—if not worse. He took me in and how did you repay him? By stealing. How can you live with yourself?”
With a slight tremble, she reached out to me before reconsidering and pulling her hands back. “I know I hurt you…repeatedly. I was low back then and the drugs consumed my every waking thought. I found a good rehab center in Denver and checked myself in. Part of my recovery is me making amends for the wrongs I’ve caused. That’s why I’m here, Lauren. I don’t want anything from you.”
She held her hand out again and opened it just enough for the silver chain to slip through. I gasped in shock. It was my necklace.
“How did you—” I instinctively reached out and took it from her hand.
She cut me off mid-sentence. “It’s not important how I got it back. I’m so sorry I hurt you, baby. I just want to make it up to you, and I know that a necklace can’t fix everything, but maybe it’s a start?”
I clenched my hand around the necklace until the charms dug into my palm. Monica had caught me completely off guard and I struggled to find the right words. “I—you really don’t want anything? You came all this way—the necklace. I just—” I paused and tried to form one coherent thought.
Monica smiled and my heart splintered at the sight of her rotting teeth. She was sober and trying to make amends, while looking like she was homeless. Maybe she just needed someone to help get her cleaned up and presentable so she could find work.
Nope.
I couldn’t let myself get sucked into her drama again. I just needed my brain to convince my heart of that.
“Lauren, you don’t owe me a thing. Just take care of you, okay?” Monica rubbed her arms and hopped up and down to warm herself. I’d gone numb the minute she’d given me the necklace and couldn’t tell you if it was cold or not.
Guilt wormed its way into my brain.
I didn’t have to help her, but maybe I could get her a warm meal and some appropriate clothing. This was Mom of the Year Monica, not Addict Monica. That had to count for something, right?
She wasn’t going to stay in my apartment—that had been my mistake the last time. I’d just get her a hot meal and maybe a jacket.
“Monica, do you have a place to stay tonight?” Damn. I’d meant to ask her something else. Something safer.
She shook her head. “Not really, but that’s nothing to worry yourself about. I’ll figure something out.”
I scratched at an invisible itch on my neck. If I left her out here, was it really the worst thing ever? I’d sti
ll sleep soundly; warm in my apartment, while she slowly froze to death on a Citibus bench downtown.
My phone chirped and I pulled it out of my purse to see a weather alert text.
“First Alert Weather: Patchy freezing drizzle may fall over the western and southern viewing area late tonight and into Friday morning. This may cause icy spots for the Friday morning commute. The South Plains could see some light glazing from drizzle Friday morning.”
I puffed my cheeks out and exhaled forcefully. It looked like the decision had been made for me, but my stomach was still in knots. I held up my hand. “Can you just give me a minute? I need to make a quick phone call.”
Monica smiled. “Lauren, you do whatever you need to do. I’m just going to find somewhere to hunker down for the night. You go on.”
I suppressed a groan and walked a few feet away before dialing Josué’s number. “Please pick up…please pick up,” I muttered to myself as it rang.
“Bueno, mija,” He sang into the phone.
“Josué, I’ve got a teensy bit of a problem…” I trailed off as Monica made her way over to the dumpster at the far edge of the parking lot.
“What happened? Where are you? Do you need money?”
I sighed. “Um, Monica found me. And she got my necklace back, so…” I made a small gulping sound before dissolving into tears. It was stupid. I chalked it up to hormones. I was about to get my period and that always made me emotional.
Josué began cursing rapidly in Spanish on the other end of the line. I heard Isaac ask what was wrong before he responded curtly, “Está llorando— the bitch found her. LoLo, call the police. Tell them what she’s done—”
“But it’s supposed to freeze tonight. I can’t just leave her out here,” I argued.
He growled, “Mija, you can leave that bitch out in the cold. I don’t give a flying fuck if there’s a blizzard tonight and she gets buried in six feet of snow.”
Isaac mumbled something in the background before Josué handed him the phone. “Hey Lauren, what’s going on? Josué is completely worked up and not making any sense. Are you okay? Do you need us to come to you?”
I wiped away the tears on my cheeks. “I just—Monica’s here. She, um, she came to make amends. She got my necklace back—I don’t know, Isaac. I can’t just leave her here, but at the same time, she can’t stay with me. What do I do?”
He was silent for a minute and I worried that he might’ve hung up. Isaac knew a little about Monica, but Josué and I had kept most of the details quiet. She just brought a certain amount of drama with her.
“Hang on, Lauren. I’m just stepping into my office.” There was a soft click as the door closed behind him and then he was back. “Okay, I’m just going to see if there’s a shelter near you that you could take her to for the night. That way you know she’s being helped, but you don’t get caught up in whatever she’s got going on. Sound good?”
I sniffled and tried to pull myself together. I was a grown woman, I should’ve been able to handle this on my own without having to reach out to Josué and Isaac. But Monica had a way of swooping in and turning my life upside down.
Isaac gave me an address and offered to come meet me, but I told him I could manage. “You’ve both done enough, Isaac. Is Josué gonna be okay?”
Isaac chuckled softly. “He’s under strict orders to fix himself a strong drink and settle in on the couch while we sort this out. You know how he gets when it comes to you.”
For the second time that night, guilt seeped through my every pore. I had to handle this like an adult.
I was going to drop Monica at the shelter and everything would go back to normal.
My life would be perfect once again. I opened the car door and called out, “Let’s go, Monica.”
She looked up in surprise before making her way back over to me. “Lauren, you don’t need to take me anywhere. I’ll be just fine.”
I blinked away the last of my tears and pointed at my car. “Get in. It’s going to freeze tonight—you can’t stay out here. There’s a shelter downtown…it’s the best I can offer you.”
I expected her to argue with me or at least, push me to take her to my apartment. She just smiled and climbed into the passenger seat though, surprising me yet again.
Her stomach grumbled loudly, so I turned the heat up higher, trying to drown it out. When that didn’t work, I cranked up the radio. Of course, there was a commercial playing for one of the local Mexican food restaurants.
Food wasn’t part of the deal.
This was quickly reminding me of a book one of my elementary teachers read to my class— If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.
If you gave Monica a ride to the shelter, she was going to expect snacks to go with that.
If you gave Monica some snacks, then she would insist upon going back to your warm apartment.
If Monica ended up back at your apartment, then you could reasonably expect half of your things to be missing by the next morning.
“Fine!” I yelled and she jumped in fear, “We’ll stop at a truck stop and get you some food, but you are not staying at my house. Are we clear on that?”
Monica’s eyes were squeezed shut and she clutched her chest. “Jesus, Lauren. Were you trying to give me a heart attack? You can just drop me at the shelter if it’s that much of an inconvenience. I’m sure they have food there.”
She was right…probably. And I had just shouted at her for no reason. Well, not completely without reason—she had stolen from me the last time I saw her.
Her stomach growled again and I knew that I was going to have to feed her if I wanted to go to bed tonight with a clear conscience. “Hey, I’m sorry. Let’s grab some dinner and then I’ll drop you off, okay?”
She kept her face turned toward the window, but didn’t answer me. I kind of wished that I’d been born a man at this point; where it’d have been easier to turn my emotions on and off. Instead, I’d gotten pulled right back in the minute she’d shown up at work.
I should’ve been focused on how well Elizabeth was going to pick up training come Monday or concerned about why Brandon, the guy who took me to the movies last weekend, hadn’t returned my calls. Those were things worth obsessing over, but my heart was a traitor and easily led into emotional warfare where Monica was concerned.
There was no use worrying over the Elizabeth situation until Monday. Now, Brandon? Well that was strange. Dr. Mulloy had set us up; apparently, he was in her spin class and she thought we’d be ‘just darling together.’ The night had been fun, but by the time the movie ended, I was starting to feel like he was testing me. So, when he asked me to go back to his place, I declined.
When I’d driven myself home later, I felt like I’d passed the test, but was second-guessing myself when the end of the weekend rolled around and my phone stayed silent. I’d called him up and left a casual message, inviting him to grab dinner with me this weekend. Even Dr. Mulloy had seemed surprised that he hadn’t called me back.
“Lauren? Was that the truck stop you were wanting to stop at? You just passed the exit.” She pointed at the glowing lights as we blew by them and I felt like screaming.
C’mon, Lauren. Focus.
I took the next exit and made a U-turn, eventually getting us to The Iron Skillet. The neon sign flickered, reminding me of those flashing Christmas lights that people seemed to be so fond of putting up on their houses. It was clear they’d aimed for exquisite, but landed at gaudy.
“So, they’ve got really good breakfast. Eggs, bacon—you name it.” There was no one working the hostess stand, so we sat ourselves near the back. I hadn’t been back here since my college days. My roommate and I found that all-night study sessions made us hungry, so we’d grab our books and hit the Skillet. Along with weary truckers, you could also find the college drunks, fresh from whatever nearby club they’d shut down.
Life had been simpler then. The only man I was worried about was Josué and that was just because I wanted to make him proud. Overn
ight, that list had grown to include people that I wasn’t sure I’d even like were it not for the fact that they signed my paycheck every other week.
“You’re nervous, I can tell,” Monica observed over her cup of coffee. “You ramble and then shut down.”
I added cream and sugar to my coffee until it was almost white before answering, “I wouldn’t say nervous, but there is definitely a certain level of anxiety that goes along with me being close to you. I mean, the last time I saw you, things didn’t exactly turn out well.”
She took a sip of straight black coffee and nodded. “I can’t say that I blame you and I’m glad we’re getting a chance to talk. For the longest time, my addiction was everything. If I didn’t have the drugs, I was thinking of ways to get them. It didn’t matter to me if someone got hurt by my actions as long as I got high. I didn’t see that until I got clean.”
The waitress came back with a large tray of food. Monica had ordered the smothered burrito with a side of fries, while I’d gone with sausage, scrambled eggs, and a large stack of pancakes. I took a big bite of sausage and talked around it. “So, you got clean? Just like that?”
She paused with her fork midair. “Well, not just like that. I went to a meeting with a friend and I think I ended up getting more out of it than he did. You know, I hadn’t prayed the entire time I was fighting my battle. I just didn’t see the point. When they talked about how important prayer was, it really stuck with me. I guess it’s human nature to try and do it all on our own.”
I talked through a full mouth of food again, having completely given up on manners. “So, you just prayed your way out of addiction? Doesn’t that seem—I don’t know, a little strange?”
It was more than strange. It was borderline infuriating. The cure to her madness was Jesus? I could’ve had a normal upbringing if only we’d recited the Lord’s Prayer enough times.
Monica laughed, as if the entire thing were one big joke, and maybe it was. To her. “Oh, Lauren. You know the Father works in mysterious ways. It seemed too simple for me too…at first. Over time though, I noticed my addiction shifted away from drugs. I became addicted to God and the high that He gives, doesn’t fade away.”
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