“Booker said almost the same thing yesterday,” Maggie said, her grin crooked.
“Smart and good looking,” I quipped without thinking.
I glanced up at Maggie and Lilah’s wide smiles.
“What?” I asked nervously.
“So, do you like Booker?” Lilah asked. “As in . . . like him?”
“No. I—I mean, as a friend, but not romantically. You’d have to be dead to not think he’s good looking, right?”
“True,” Lilah agreed. “Although he’s not as good looking as Cole.”
“Or Seth,” Maggie interjected. Not wanting to cause a stir, I didn’t point out that while their men were indeed good looking, Booker was by far the hottest. And sexiest. And I needed to get a life.
“Book’s a good person and he’s fun to be around.” I also liked the fact that he wore a gun. Everywhere. Added security.
The girls exchanged knowing glances. Yeah, who was I kidding? Booker had awoken feelings in me that I thought were long dead. Feelings I didn’t think I’d ever have again. I was sure Garen had all but drowned them out of me, literally. A chill raced up my spine at the memory of that horrible day.
A ruddy-faced waitress with unruly brown hair brought out our meals, interrupting my private nightmare, thankfully.
“Maggie? Maggie Brown? Oh my heck! I haven’t seen you since graduation,” exclaimed the short waitress. “Love your hair.”
“Hi, Melody. Thanks, and it’s Prescott now.” Maggie quickly flashed her ring at Melody. She offered the girl a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“That’s right. Hillary Jeffers told me you had to get married. You don’t look very far along.” She stretched her neck around to look at Maggie’s stomach.
“That’s because I’m not pregnant. Hillary likes to talk,” Maggie said, straightening.
“So you’re not pregnant?” The look of disappointment on the server when Maggie shook her head was rude, to say the least. You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but this girl left a bad taste in my mouth. My guess was that Maggie wasn’t particularly fond of her either, judging from the way she avoided eye contact with her and poked at her salad with a fork.
“Well, Hillary won’t be spreading any rumors around for a while after what happened to her last week,” Melody said, with a pious twist to her grin.
“What happened to Hillary?” Maggie’s eyes darted up to meet Melody’s.
“You don’t know? Have you been living in a cave?” the waitress spurted.
“No, she’s been busy finishing her degree and running an interior design business,” Lilah snapped.
“Do I know you?” Melody’s jaw ticked.
“This is my sister-in-law, Lilah Colter, and my friend, Tess Bennett,” Maggie introduced us. “This is Melody Winkmyer. She and Hillary went to the same high school as me.”
I found it impressive that Maggie said Lilah was her sister-in-law since technically Seth, Cole, and Booker were just friends. They weren’t actually related in any way, although they did consider each other family.
“Hillary was a good friend of ours,” Melody said to Lilah.
“A good friend of yours,” Maggie corrected. “She hated me.”
“True. But you did steal her boyfriend, so you can’t blame her, right?” Melody tucked her hands in her apron.
“According to Seth, Hillary liked him, but the feelings were not mutual.” Lilah took a drink of her diet soda. “Seth also said she was pretty mean to Maggie, even trying to punch her once or twice.”
“She’s getting her comeuppance now.” Melody’s eyes twinkled. “Seems she met a guy at school about six months ago and he turned out to be quite the loser. Rumor has it the guy beat her. She’s sporting a cut lip and two black eyes now. I heard he broke one of her ribs, too. She had to sneak out of her dorm room in the middle of the night to get away from him. She drove all night until she got home. She’s at her parents now.”
It took all I had not to vomit. Every punch, every slam into a wall, every head bashing came rushing back to me. I leaned back in my chair and took deep, steady breaths to keep from fainting.
“Melody, we have to go. Get our check, please.” Lilah’s voice sounded a million miles away as I struggled to push memories away. Warm hands covered mine.
“Tess, are you alright?” I nodded to Lilah’s question, I think. “Tess.” A warm hand brushed hair behind my ear. “Tess,” Lilah said again.
“What’s wrong?” I turned to the new voice. Maggie had moved into the seat next to me. Only then did I realize she held my hand. I forced myself to calm down. It was only memories, horrible, vile memories. I was safe now.
“Sorry.” I straightened and tucked my hands into my lap. “You know me and blood.” I offered a weak smile. Neither seemed to buy the lie judging from their furrowed brows, but they didn’t push it. Lilah paid the bill and we left. The cool autumn air helped clear my head, and by the time we got to the car, I felt stronger.
“Are you up for Walgreens or would you rather just head back?” Maggie asked, climbing into the backseat this time.
Not wanting to draw any more attention to myself, I said, “If you still need to go, I wouldn’t mind.” I unrolled the window a crack to let more cool air in as we drove.
“Feeling better?” Lilah asked.
“Yes, much. Sorry about that.” I forced a small chuckle. We remained embarrassingly quiet until we reached the store. I wanted to crawl into a hole.
Lilah parked the car near the door. “Should we meet out front in, say, ten minutes?” I suggested, not eager to buy my hair coloring in front of them.
“Sure. I’m just getting a pregnancy test so I won’t be long,” Lilah explained. “What about—”
“Wait. You’re pregnant?” asked Maggie as she pulled open the glass door.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Lilah explained. “I’m only a couple days late, so no need to get too excited.”
Maggie’s face lit up. “But you are. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Yes, I am.” She beamed back. “But this is not the first time I’ve been late, and the tests have always come back negative.”
“We’ll think only positive thoughts then,” Maggie assured her. “Alright, I’m looking for some magazines for a house we’re decorating. I’ll meet you guys up front in a few.” Maggie turned toward the books and magazines, and I hurried over to the hair care products. I selected my usual bottle of Raven Black semi-permanent color, then searched for some shampoo, running into Lilah as I rounded the corner, pregnancy test in hand.
“Box color? Are you serious? This stuff is horrible for your hair.” She planted a hand on her hips. “I can get you professional products, Tess.”
“This is okay,” I assured her as I mindlessly turned the box around in my hands. Maggie mentioned that Lilah had gone to hair school and was a real product snob.
She put her hand on my shoulder and said softly, “Tess, I hope you realize you can trust me. Please, tell me who you’re hiding from?”
I stammered for a minute, taken aback by her bluntness. I debated whether to lie, or take a leap of faith and trust these two girls who’d tried so hard to befriend me.
But I was tired of hiding, and tired of keeping everyone at arm’s length. I took the leap. “It’s that obvious?” My voice was barely above a whisper. Okay, the leap was small.
“My dad was a drug smuggler. I’m sure you read about it in the papers when Booker was hospitalized after a run-in with the infamous Harry Dreser. Daddy was an expert at disguise.” She frowned. “When I saw your dark hair and dark contacts, and the way you seldom made eye contact with people, I figured it out. In fact, I’ve known almost from the minute I met you.”
“From the minute . . . D-Does Booker know?” I held my breath, afraid of her answer.
“He’s never mentioned it, though I’d guess he does. He’s a sharp one. It’s pretty tough to fool him. Trust me, I know,” she grimaced.
I took a deep breath. “The guy . . . my ex-husband, was a control freak. He controlled every part of my life. If I didn’t measure up to his standard, he made sure I knew it,” I said, fingering the dye. My eyes never left the box. “Like that Hillary girl, I also had to escape, and that’s how I ended up here. Every time I dye my hair, I tell myself that when it fades, I’m not going to re-dye it, that I’m done hiding. But every time it fades, I re-dye it. I guess I’m still letting him control me.”
“It was that bad, huh?” Lilah sighed quietly. I nodded. “The incident at the restaurant earlier triggered some bad memories, I take it.”
“Nightmares. Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want this to get out. I’m still afraid he’ll find me. I’m not strong enough yet.”
“You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, Tess, but I won’t say a word,” Lilah promised as Maggie approached us, carrying a stack of magazines.
“Box color?” she said to me before turning to Lilah. “Breathe, Lilah. It’s okay. She doesn’t know any better.”
“Be quiet, brat,” Lilah laughed. “Come on. I want to take this.” She waved the pregnancy test, crossing her fingers as she did. Looping her arm in mine, she led me to the cash register, grimacing as I paid for the hair dye.
Chapter 4
We went back to Lilah’s so I could pick up my car. She had an easy recipe for stir-fry shrimp she wanted to give to me, vowing that not even I could mess it up.
“I hope you’re right. I love stir-fry.” I had my doubts, but figured I might as well try it. I couldn’t suck at cooking forever. Someday it had to sink in.
I followed her and Maggie inside, holding tight to my purse. Booker had changed out of the dress from earlier and now wore jeans and a green Henley t-shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, looking great as always. I liked him in green. Sofia sat next to him, curled up on the brown microfiber sofa as he read Cat in the Hat to her, exaggerating the infuriated fish in the story.
“‘No, no, he should not be here when your mother is out!’” His face twisted into a stern frown.
“Those kids are not very smart,” Sofia said, scratching the tip of her nose.
“That’s right. You should never let a stranger in the house, ever,” Booker said.
“You shouldn’t talk to them, either,” Seth added as he turned to Maggie. “Correct, beautiful wife?”
“Correct.” She gave a short nod.
Sofia jumped off the couch and rushed to Lilah as she closed the front door. “Mommy!” She wrapped her little arms around her mother’s neck as Lilah scooped her up.
“I wonder if I’ll ever get tired of being greeted like this.” Lilah snuggled the little girl closer. Sofia clasped her mother’s face in her hands and gave her a noisy kiss on the lips.
“Did you miss me?” Lilah rubbed her nose on her daughter’s.
“Yes. Daddy made me a bologna sandwich, though.”
“It’s her favorite,” Lilah explained to me as Cole came over to us.
“Did you miss me, too?” Lilah’s eyes twinkled as she smiled at him.
“Always,” he said before kissing her.
“Oh, no. Not again.” Sofia wiggled out of her mom’s arms and sat back next to Booker. “They do that all the time.” She folded her arms in disgust. “I sit by you, Uncle Book. You never kiss girls.”
“Yeah, thanks for reminding me,” he grumbled. Both Cole and Seth laughed. Booker rolled his eyes. Watching the playful interaction between everyone made my heart ache even more for my own family. How much longer do I have to stay away from them?
My mind wandered back to the day Garen hit my mother.
Forever.
“I’d better get going.” I opened the door, pushing my purse up on my shoulder. “Thanks for lunch.”
“You don’t need to rush off, Tess.” Maggie came with me outside. “You forgot the stir-fry recipe.”
“I’ll get it later. I need to run a few errands.” I tugged my sweater around me against the icy wind, depressed at the thought of another looming winter here. Maggie stood next to the car as I quickly slipped inside, still dumbfounded that she seemed oblivious to the cold.
“Thanks again for, well, almost having lunch.” Heat flooded my guilty face as I turned the key over in the ignition. Nothing happened, just a clicking sound. “Oh, no.” I tried three more times, but still nothing.
“Let me get Booker. If he can keep the POC going, I’m sure he can help fix your car.” Maggie ran back inside as I tried a couple more times with no success. “Please,” I muttered to the rusty Honda. “I can’t afford a car right now.”
Booker jogged out to me. “Pop the hood,” he said. I released the hood and got out, walking over next to him. He wore the cologne I loved, and I leaned in for a whiff of leather mixed with ocean breeze as he wiggled the battery cables. He unscrewed a cap from the engine.
“I think you have a dead battery, which is an easy fix. But this, I’m afraid, could be a problem.” He showed me the cap. A foamy brown liquid covered the inside. “I’m not sure, but you may have a cracked head. Didn’t you say it was running a little hot on Monday?”
“Yes, but I checked the radiator like you said, and added antifreeze. It was almost empty.” Please, car, don’t fail me now.
Booker looked underneath the car and shook his head. He signaled for me to look, too. “Antifreeze.” He pointed to the puddle of green liquid under my car.
“Ugh.” I straightened.
“Don’t panic yet. It may just be a leaky radiator. I have a friend who fixes cars. I’ll have him take a look and see what he can do.”
“Thank you. That’d be wonderful.” I tucked my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “I can’t afford a new car right now. They raised my rent again.” My apartment was small, rundown, and everything was broken from the dishwasher to the A/C unit to the bathroom fan.
“When’s the lease up?” Booker asked, closing the hood.
“It’s up now, but I can’t afford to move.” I reached into the car and grabbed my purse. “Thanks for your help with the car. I appreciate it. See you on Monday.” I turned for the street. Booker hooked a hand around my elbow.
“What are you doing?” His brow peaked as if bemused. “Come on. I’ll take you home.” He led me over to his beat-up car. The green, rusted out thing looked in worse shape than mine. The words “junk heap” came to mind as he reached for the door. “Stop scowling. She may not be much to look at, but she runs great,” he assured me with a smile.
“If you say so. What does Seth call this car?” I chuckled as Booker struggled to pry the door open.
“POC Mobile. It stands for Piece of Crap, aptly name by my grandfather Samuel back in my early college days.” The door finally relented and Booker stumbled back a little as it flew open.
I got in and buckled the seatbelt, double-checking to make sure it engaged. The inside of the car didn’t look much better than the outside. Although clean, it had seen better days with its sun-scorched dashboard and paper-thin upholstery. I’d ridden in it several times, and each time it amazed me that it ran.
“Didn’t they raise your rent not too long ago?” Booker settled in the car next to me.
“Yes. In the past eighteen months they’ve raised it almost two hundred fifty dollars.”
“Why not move? Surely you can get a cheaper place.” He turned up the heater as we approached Main Street. “I remember when Lilah lived in your complex it seemed things were always in disrepair.”
“Yes, but the place is furnished and not many complexes offer furnished apartments anymore.” I twisted my purse strap absentmindedly as I thought about my tight budget. “Besides, there’s a little thing called first and last month’s rent and a security deposit standing in the way of getting a new place. I’m afraid I’m stuck.” What I hated the most was the fact that every time my rent went up, it gave me less money to put in savings. I needed a nest egg in case Garen found me and I had to run again.
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br /> “Where are we going?” I asked, as Booker turned left instead of right on Main.
“I have an idea. Maggie grew up over by Applegate Park. She and Lilah completely redid the trailer with the idea of selling it, but Mags decided to rent it out instead.” Booker pulled up in front of a small green trailer. “Want to look inside?”
“It’s seems nice, but again, the whole money issue, not to mention my lack of furnishings,” I said, getting out.
“The place comes furnished. I can vouch for you so there’s no need for a deposit or the first and last month’s rent, and it’s close to the office. On good days, which, believe it or not we do have once in a while, you can walk to the office if you want. It’s maybe five minutes from here.” He dug into the pocket of his well-worn jeans and pulled out a silver key, dangling it in the air. “I showed it for Seth yesterday to a young couple getting married so I still have the key. You want to see it?”
“Since we’re here we may as well look.”
“The neighborhood is pretty good since the city cleaned up Applegate Park about a year ago. It’s safer than your neighborhood now.” Booker opened the door and held it for me as I stepped in. He followed, shutting it behind him.
“The furnace is set on low so it’ll be a bit cold, but it heats up quickly. The utilities are included, by the way.” Booker stepped over to the thermostat as I glanced around. Though small, the place had a cozy charm. The colors were a bit bland, but knowing Maggie and Lilah, they were going for a neutral palate to appease a broad range of clientele.
The living room-kitchen area was not very large, which meant I’d have to move the couch and chair around to do my yoga, but everything looked clean and fresh. The place smelled of new carpet and paint. Booker showed me the small bathroom with a stacked stainless steel washer-dryer combo, a definite plus. I hated lugging my stuff to the Laundromat every week.
Unbearable (The Port Fare Series) Page 4