“That boy is a fool for leaving you all alone,” Vernie said. “I raised him better than to be a drunken imbecile.”
“Were you happy?” Pearl asked. “When things were good in your marriage, I mean. Were you ever happy?”
Vernie shrugged. “I thought I was. Now, who’s to say? That damn man was a coward for walking out on me. He all but left me for dead.” She took a drag. “No, I’d say we were never happy.”
Pearl was silent a moment, sipping on her drink.
“My mom walked out on me.”
Vernie sighed, understanding in her expression. “Is that why you never speak of her?”
Pearl twirled the ice in her glass. “Mostly. I guess there really isn’t much to say. I don’t remember her as well as I wish I did. I have these dreams…” She paused to look at Vernie, who was nodding for her to continue. “I have these dreams where I see her like the day she left. It’s the only way I remember her. I can’t even picture her face any other way.”
“Do you not have any photographs of her?”
“One. But when I look at it, it doesn’t seem like it’s her. Like my dreams are more vivid. Is that strange?”
Vernie shook her head. “No, it’s not strange.”
“I know her voice.” Pearl bit her lip, treading on an untouched subject. “She’s a singer, that’s why she left. I have her CD.”
Vernie’s eyebrows rose. “You have her music with you?”
Pearl nodded. “I listen to it all the time.” She sat back in her seat, looking out on the stormy night through Vernie’s kitchen window. The wind whistled in the trees as the rain crashed down on the small cottage roof.
“It’s how I know she’s real.”
Vernie wrapped her arm around Pearl’s shoulder. “What a gift she has given you. I would love to hear it sometime.”
Pearl leaned into her embrace. “Sometimes I miss her so much I can’t breathe, and sometimes I feel like I don’t know her at all.”
“That’s the heart and the brain at war, dear.” Vernie gave her shoulders a light pat. “Usually the heart wins out.”
Vernie pulled back to look Pearl in the eye. “Let me make something very clear to you,” she said firmly. “It is she who is missing out on your life. Not the other way around. She is a spineless woman to leave such a precious gem. And I know that wherever she is, she is thinking about you.”
Pearl smiled though her tears. She walked home that night when the rain eased up, feeling a surge of happiness and sorrow that she had more of a connection with Vernie than she did with her own mother. She was grateful to Vernie for filling the void that had appeared in her heart all those years ago.
She returned to the bustling trailer, which reeked of stale beer and men’s horrendous body odor. She slipped in, unnoticed, and down the hall to their foreign bed. Sometime in the middle of the night Roy crawled in beside her as she lay fast asleep, the smell of sour liquor on his breath as he kissed her awake. He was rough while fondling her soft body with his coarse hands. She would moan from agony more than from pleasure as he pushed himself into her. Silently she would weep in the dark, his heavy body dripping from sweat on top of her.
Each day that passed was another day Roy drifted farther from the man Pearl thought she had married. She hardly recognized this forceful, inebriated commander and missed desperately the boy she had run away to be with. The fiercer he became, the happier he seemed, and Pearl began to sink deeper, pulling her shell over her head. She grew fearful of him and his impending temper. While he stomped around the house, berating her for every last flaw, Pearl hid herself in the corner, waiting for someone to save her.
CHAPTER 10
Christmas came and went as though it were no holiday at all. Money was tight on the farm. Granny’s inheritance went mostly to Vernie, with a small percentage each for Darren and Roy. More money was being spent keeping the farm running than was coming in. The stress took a toll on Roy. His quick temper increasingly became shorter. He spent most nights out, leaving Pearl frightened, and home alone in the dark. When he returned, liquor oozed out of his pores. Alcohol turned Roy into a beast, his hands quick to react at any unpleasant response from Pearl. She did what she could to please him, doing everything perfectly so as not to set him off. She knew that if only they could get on solid ground, they would be okay. A little more money, a little less stress, and she would have her old Roy back. She told him she would do anything to help. Roy suggested it was time for Pearl to get a job.
Sammie helped her out with a waitressing position at Vinny’s. She was taking over the night shift, wearing fat Patty’s old uniform, which was three sizes too big. Roy worried over her being gone at night and proved it by calling every hour to check in.
Vinny’s was a small diner on the back side of Mullington, across the railroad tracks, filled mainly with teens hiding away from their parents, who traveled the main road looking for them. The place reeked of smoke, grease, and over-fried eggs. Sammie was there with Pearl most of the nights she worked, showing Pearl what it took to make good tips.
“See that guy over there?” she asked, leaning on the counter, her breasts popping out of her unbuttoned top. “I bet I can get twenty bucks from him tonight.”
Pearl shook her head. “No way. Twenty-dollar tip on coffee and a donut? Impossible.”
Sammie lifted her brow with a smirk. “Give me your wedding ring.”
Pearl swallowed hard. “Why?”
“’Cause guys love a girl they can’t have.” Sammie took Pearl’s finger, slipping the gold band off, replacing it on her own hand. Tossing her dark wavy hair over her shoulder, she looked the man right in the eye as she swayed her hips toward him. Pearl couldn’t hear what Sammie was saying, but from the man’s smile she could tell he was eating right out of Sammie’s lusty grip.
Sammie winked at Pearl as she walked her way, the man’s eyes glued to Sammie’s bouncing short skirt. “It’s in the bag,” she whispered. Later, after the man left, Pearl noticed a twenty-dollar bill sitting on his table. She asked Sammie for her ring back. Yet at the end of the shift, she only counted up eight dollars for herself in tips.
“What’s going on with you?” Sammie asked, coming up behind her as Pearl reached her car.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Pearl said, not turning to face her friend.
“You know exactly what I mean. You’ve changed since you’ve gotten married. I thought married people are supposed to be happier.”
Pearl lifted her face to Sammie, showing her forced smile. “I am happier, Sammie. Very happy.”
Sammie eyed her friend for a moment before nodding and walking away.
Pearl took a ragged breath, wiping the tears from her eyes as she carefully buckled her seatbelt.
The next evening the rain returned after a few days of unusually dry weather. Pearl had missed the rain. She had become so attached to the sound of the water pounding on the plastic roof top that she found it comforting. She hummed to the melody of the shower as she waited patiently for Roy to return, supper warm on the table. He had promised her a romantic night in after the fight they had last night. She made him cream corn and meatloaf, a specialty of Granny’s she had perfected just for him.
Forgetting the homemade buns, she hustled from the table, standing a little too quickly, her breath catching from the sharp pain in her ribs. She lifted her blouse above her chest, where the black and blue cloud had spread below her breasts. It wasn’t his fault. She was late getting home from work, and the worry it caused him inflated the wrath he hurled on her. She should have called, and she should have not stopped to talk to Sammie. She knew he would agonize and fret until she was safe at home. She eased a deep breath, feeling the pressure in her chest. She had been hurt worse than this before, like the time Billy pushed her off the swing set and her head cracked against the wooden post. Billy had cried for days, feeling much worse than she did. It was always harder for the one who felt guilty.
Another hour passed, th
e supper turning cold. She searched the house for a phone number she could reach him at, coming up empty.
She placed the meatloaf back in the oven on low, hoping to keep it heated until he returned. As she blew out the wilting candle, she heard the roar of his truck coming up the driveway. She stood still, listening to the squeak of the door slam behind him as his boots trod heavily to the front door. She closed her eyes and held her breath. It was silly, of course, for her to feel so nervous around her own husband. And still the trembling of her fingers continued as the front door flew open and she could sense the tension of his presence. She peeked behind the wall, wondering if she should greet him or stay silent. She didn’t have time to decide. He walked past her, his head low, his nostrils flaring, and headed to their bedroom, slamming the door behind him. She released her breath, her apprehension turning to guilt. Was he still upset with her from the night before? Hadn’t they put that behind them?
She pressed her fingertips to the bedroom door, tapping lightly. “Roy?” she called out. “I made meatloaf. Do you want me to heat it up?”
Silence answered her through the barrier. She turned the knob, peering through the slit of the door and seeing only darkness. On the bed lay a thick mass that could only be Roy. And by the sounds of his snoring, he was already fast asleep.
It was a slow night at Vinny’s. The hours seemed to drag, and it was still far from closing time. The waitresses fought over the few customers who walked through the door. Sammie spent most of the night sneaking shots of tequila with the truckers in the bar, as Pearl continued to wipe down unused tables.
“Girl, what the hell are you doing?” a waitress Sammie referred to as “Trashy Trish” called out from the group of friends who surrounded her. Pearl looked up from the table she was cleaning, realizing she had been dozing off, sponging the same area over and over.
Sammie cocked her head in their direction, a glare in her chocolate-brown eyes.
“Fuck off, Trisha, leave her alone.”
Trisha turned her husky body to Sammie, a threat in her tone. “What, you gotta protect Little Miss Innocence?”
Sammie stood from her chair as the men beside her turned back to their beers.
“Protect her from what? You think we’re scared of an old fat-ass trash whore?”
The women behind Trisha stopped laughing and looked to their leader for her reply. “I may be older, but I can still take your men.”
“Nothing like sloppy seconds,” Sammie said with a brilliant smile.
Trisha ran to her, fury dripping from her mouth like a rabid dog, as she screamed bloody murder. Sammie jumped behind the counter, giggling like a schoolgirl who was getting chased on the playground by a cute boy. The eruption pulled Vinny from his hiding place in the back. He was in the line of fire as Trisha crashed behind the counter, her arms waving in the air. The second Trisha’s fist connected with Sammie’s wide grin, Vinny had her hands behind her back and out the front door.
Sammie was hunched over the floor, her skirt pulled high above her waist. Pearl knelt beside her bleeding friend as the women, known as Trisha’s pack, sneaked out the door.
“Man, that fat slut’s got a good aim.” Sammie cracked a pained smile, wiping the blood from her mouth.
“It’s all my fault, Sammie, I’m so sorry,” Pearl said, placing ice on Sammie’s swollen lip.
Sammie shook her head. “Don’t be silly, doll. Besides, I always wanted full lips like yours.”
Pearl had to laugh. “They can get you into trouble.”
Sammie grimaced. “Damn, that hurt. Help me up.”
Vinny, a squat man with a greasy mustache and caring grin, returned as Pearl lifted Sammie to her feet. “Sorry, Sammie, but you have to go home. Can’t have you here looking like that.”
“Ah, shit, Vinny, my parents are gonna kill me!”
“You know fighting is against my policy. You can keep your job, but you just have to go home for tonight.”
“It’s slow in here anyway,” Pearl said. “I can take care of it.”
Sammie shrugged and headed out the door.
“I fired Trish,” Vinny said when they were alone. “I’m going to need you to help pick up the slack.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Vinny,” Pearl said hesitantly. “I’m already working more than Roy wanted me to.”
Vinny ran a hand through his graying hair. “I really don’t want to train another waitress. With how slow it’s been in here, it would only be a few more hours a week.”
Pearl thought it over. “I’ll have to talk to my husband, but if it’s only a few more hours, I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”
“Great, just great,” Vinny said, clapping his hands together as though the issue was settled.
She was left alone in the empty restaurant, only an hour before closing. She continued her useless cleaning, wiping down spotless tables, even dusting behind the blender, stopping only once to answer a call from Roy. She was focused on her work, her mind accustomed to the silence when the door opened, the bell causing her to jump. Surprised to see a costumer in so late she set her rags aside and straightened her uniform to come to the counter. She was greeted by a familiar smile, and warm rich coffee eyes.
“Good to see you again,” the boy said, taking a seat on the bar stool. Pearl’s pulse quickened at the sight of him. She caught a glance of her reflection in the coffee machine’s mirror and moved a strand of wispy hair that had fallen from her sloppy bun.
“Hi, Ben,” she said. “In so late?”
“Had a craving for one of Vinny’s cream pies.” He gave her a large grin, settling in, resting his elbows on the counter.
“One of my favorites,” she said, fighting the hair that had once again fallen from her face. His eyes followed her fingers to her hair. She turned away from him before he could see her blush.
“You’re in luck. Just one left.”
“Coffee still hot?” he asked.
“Only decaf,” she answered.
“Perfect.”
She poured him a cup. The coffee hitting the mug was a welcome sound in the edgy silence of the room.
“Pretty dead around here,” he said, as though reading her thoughts.
She laughed at that. “If only you’d been here an hour ago.”
He lifted a brow, urging her to go on.
“It was nothing, really.” She handed him the cup; his fingers grazed hers as he took it. She could see now in the light the warm circle of honey in his eyes.
“Wow, I heard you got married,” he said nodding his head at her finger.
She pulled away, the weight of her ring feeling heavy on her hand.
“A little while ago,” she answered.
“They told me you were Roy’s girl. Didn’t know to believe it or not.” He shrugged. “Never thought Roy was the marrying type. We went to school together. Though we were never friends—Roy was always too cool for me.”
Pearl watched Ben eat his pie, twisting the ring around her finger nervously.
“Is that why you’re here?” Ben asked. “Did you move to Oregon for Roy?”
She nodded.
Ben chuckled. “You don’t say much, do you?”
She cracked a shy grin. “Sorry, I guess I’ve gotten a little tired of the Roy inquiry in this town. I had no idea he was such a big shot around here.”
“Big shot? I guess that’s one way to put it. Depends on who you ask. I’d say he makes himself known.”
She turned away, not wanting to hear any more bashing on her husband. She knew who he was. She didn’t need to be told.
“Hey, come back,” he said, leaning against the counter. “I wasn’t saying anything. Hell, I barely know the guy.” He sighed at her stiff back. “I’d rather know more about you.”
She twisted her head to look at him. “What do you want to know about me?”
He finished the last bite. “What else do you got back there?”
She pulled out two pieces of blackberry pie and one sl
ice of carrot cake.
“I think that will do.” He patted the seat beside him. “Come join me.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m working.”
“Yeah, you’re slammed. Now come sit with me and eat this pie.”
She smiled, giving in, pulling up the seat beside him. Digging in with a fork, she took a bite of the blackberry pie, moaning at the taste.
“Vinny does good work,” Ben said through a mouthful of pie.
Pearl took another bite and set her fork on the plate. She felt the chill of goose pimples on her arms as his knee brushed hers under the table.
“Do you miss Arizona?” Ben asked, finishing the rest of the pie.
“I miss my family. But things are just so different now.”
“Being married?”
She shrugged. “Not just that, although that is a big part of it. I guess when I left I didn’t know when I’d be back, but I knew I’d go home sometime. Now, that seems farther and farther away.”
“You don’t think you could go home?” he asked, pouring her coffee from the pot.
“We can’t afford for me to go home to visit. But even if we could, I don’t know.” She took a sip from her mug, not wanting to finish the sentence.
“I’ve never lived anywhere but here,” he said. “I think it’s brave that you left.”
She shook her head with a humorless laugh. “What I did wasn’t brave. I left in the middle of the night. I didn’t even tell my father where I was going.”
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