by Loy Holder
Both children whined about taking a nap, but Liz was firm; despite their efforts to stay awake, they were soon asleep. A shadow of fear enveloped her as she tiptoed out of the room. Thank God my children are safe from that monster, and I’m going to do everything I can to keep them that way.
Lucille was in the backyard watering her tomatoes when Liz found her. The garden was a profusion of tomatoes, green peppers, cucumbers, yellow squash, and baby cantaloupe vines overflowing their rows in an explosion of green leaves. “Hey, Lucille, when you’re finished, can we work on that plan?”
“Yeah, I’m just about done here.” Lucille watered for another minute, turned off the hose, and walked into the kitchen. “Liz, it’s not necessary. Honestly, it’s a pleasure just having you and the kids here.”
“I know, but it’s necessary for me and our friendship.”
“OK, OK. Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
Lucille brought a pen, paper, and a carbon sheet to the table. Liz frowned as she watched Lucille writing something out. Finally, Lucille put the pen down and glanced at Liz. “OK, take a look.” Lucille slid the pages to Liz.
“I wondered what you were doing.” Liz stared at the words on the page. “Hey, you’ve changed my hours to full time with weekends off, and I start next Monday? What about scaring the customers?”
“My full-time kitchen help quit two days ago. So, yep. Six in the evening until two in the morning.” Lucille chuckled. “You can hide in the kitchen while you heal.”
Liz laughed. “OK, so, starting Monday, I work swing shift in the kitchen at my regular pay for two or three weeks.”
“Yep, keep going.”
Liz read on. “When I get my tooth, I go back to dancing…and Christ, you’re giving me a raise? You’re being too generous. That’s way over minimum wage.”
“With your dance moves and looks, you pull the customers in, and I make money. I want to keep you, so, yeah, I’m gonna pay you more than before. Oh, and when you start dancing, I plan on hiring more kitchen help.”
“But who’s going to work Saturday swing shift?” I know you close the Jet on Sunday.”
“I am.” Lucille tapped the page. “Keep reading.”
“I pay you three hundred dollars a month for rent and babysitting…that’s more than fair, but you need to add that I buy the groceries. Also, what about the three hundred dollars I owe you for the emergency room visit?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Liz, let’s keep this simple. Pay me what you can each month. I’m not going to add it to your so-called plan.” Lucille slid the pen toward Liz. “Sign and date it right under my name, and we can get on with our day.”
Liz signed and dated it, took the carbon copy, and handed the original to Lucille. “I feel pretty good about this. How about you?”
“It was needless, but if you’re happy, I’m happy. When’s the last time you took aspirin or iced?”
“OK, I’ll go put this little agreement in my room and head for the pain pills.” Liz placed the document in a file in the closet, took the aspirin, and grabbed the attorney’s card from her purse before heading back to the kitchen. She sat at the table and placed a big bag of ice over her lip and jaw. Pain shot from her lip and up the side of her face. Ow…this hurts. She kept the ice pack in place, and gradually the pain eased as she thought about the call she was going to make. I hope I’m doing the right thing. What’s gonna happen when Ron finds out?
Time was up for the icing, and she reached for the phone. She took a deep breath and dialed the attorney’s number. A woman’s voice answered, “Good afternoon, Riley and Walton. How may I direct your call?” Her voice purred, oozing efficiency.
For a second, Liz hesitated. Did she want to do this? She took another deep breath and mimicked the woman’s crisp tone. “Yes, I want to make an appointment with Mr. Walton to request a restraining order on my husband. Dr. Conway, at Sutter Emergency, gave me his card.
“OK. He has an opening next Monday at nine o’clock in the morning. Can you come then?
“Yes, I can.”
“Your name and phone number, please?”
Liz stammered, surprised at the question. “Uh, Liz Harmon and I’m staying with a friend temporarily. Her number is HI three two one eight nine.
“Thank you, Mrs. Harmon. I’ll put you on Mr. Walton’s calendar. The consultation fee is one hundred fifty dollars, due when you arrive next Monday.”
Crap! A one-hundred-fifty-dollar fee? Liz swallowed her pride. “Could I come for the appointment, and make payments for his services?”
“Let me put you on hold, and I’ll ask Mr. Walton. “
Wow, she sounds a little cranky. Oh well. There was a click, and then soft piano music began playing in Liz’s ear. She turned to face the window. A hummingbird was hovering above the feeder that hung under the eave. The hummingbird only distracted her for a few seconds before panic hit. God, I have eighty-five dollars in my checking account, and I can’t ask Lucille for more money. Just then, the woman came back on the line. “Mrs. Harmon, I’m sorry. You need to pay the consultation fee when you come in.”
“I’m sorry, too. I won’t have any money for over a week. I’ll have to call back. Thank you for your time.” That woman didn’t sound sorry at all. What now?
Her mind spun like a hamster in a wheel. She needed air and a quiet place to think. She went into the backyard and sat under a shade tree, overwhelmed. Here she was, disfigured, in pain, no money, and a maniac chasing her; she cried helpless tears. I need that one hundred fifty dollars now. She wallowed in self-pity for a few more minutes and then stopped crying. Hell, this isn’t helping, and besides, things could be a lot worse. An idea came to her. She wiped the tears away with her hand, and went into the house.
She found Lucille in her office. “Hey, I have another favor to ask. I just called the attorney’s office, and there is a consultation fee of one hundred fifty dollars. Could you give me my first paycheck a little early, like Wednesday or Thursday?”
“Sure, but that won’t cover all your legal costs.” Lucille frowned. “Why are your eyes red. Have you been crying?”
“It would cover the consultation, and when I see the attorney, maybe I can get a payment plan with him. You know, like I did with the dentist; and yes, I was crying, feeling sorry for myself. I’m OK now.”
“I’ll give you cash by noon next Thursday, so you could get an early-afternoon appointment.” Lucille rubbed her forehead. “Ah, and when you go, find out how much everything’s gonna cost. I can loan you more. You need that restraining order…now.” Lucille stood and gave Liz a hug. “And by the way, you should be proud of yourself. It took courage to get yourself and those kids away from a bad situation. There’s gonna be a few rough spots, but you’ll get through this.”
Liz hugged her back. “Thanks for the advance and your kind words.”
“You’re welcome. Now don’t you have a phone call to make?”
The same woman answered, and Liz felt calm. “Hello, this is Mrs. Harmon again. Does Mr. Walton have an opening next Thursday afternoon?”
“Yes, Mrs. Harmon. He can see you at one thirty. Will you have the required consultation fee?”
“Yes, I’ll pay in cash.”
The woman sounded more pleasant. “All right, Mrs. Harmon. We’ll see you at one thirty next Thursday.”
Liz had solved another problem. Pleased with herself, she walked into Lucille’s office. “Hey, I made the appointment. Now I just need to convince the attorney I’m trustworthy.”
“If he says no to payments, maybe I could cosign for you. That might be an option.”
“That can be my plan B, but maybe that won’t be necessary.”
“Mommy, I don’t feel good.” The voice sounded like Regina’s, and Liz hurried into the bedroom. Regina was sitting up in bed crying. Liz sat down beside her and placed a hand on the child’s forehead. It was hot, and her cheeks were flushed. Then Liz smelled a familiar odor. She peered over the other side of Reg
ina’s bed and there it was, the remains of her lunch in a smelly half-digested clump on the floor.
“OK, sweetheart. You lie down. I’m going to get a cold washcloth for your forehead and some tummy medicine. I’ll be right back.”
Liz walked down the hallway. “Lucille, do you have any Pepto-Bismol? And I’m going to need something to clean up the floor.”
“The Pepto’s in here,” Lucille answered from the kitchen.
After hurrying to the kitchen and collecting a spoon, the pink stuff, and a cold towel, Liz rushed back to Regina. She gave Regina the medicine and placed the towel on her forehead. Then Ronnie groaned. “Mom, I’m sick, too.”
Lucille came into the room with a bucket. “Here Ronnie, if you have to throw up, use this.” She put the bucket beside his bed.
When Liz felt Ronnie’s forehead, he was feverish as well. She fetched another spoon and cold towel from the kitchen, but Ronnie pushed them away. “I gotta throw up now.” He moved over to the edge of the bed and upchucked into the bucket, his small body trembling with each heave.
Later, Liz took the children’s temperatures again and hollered down the hall. “Lucille, their fevers are down now.”
Lucille came into the room. “Should I fix some dinner for you and me? We can always warm some up for the kids later, if they get hungry.”
“Good idea.” Liz sighed with exhaustion and pulled a chair between the beds. “Could you get me some water? I’m going to sit with them for a little while.”
“OK, I’ll be back.”
Liz watched her friend leave the room. She closed her eyes and thanked God for Lucille. She shuddered at what could have been without her, and then she shifted her weight in the chair and glanced at each child. They both lay quiet. Their pale faces beaded with perspiration as they slept.
Lucille came back and whispered, “Good, they’re asleep.” She handed Liz a glass of water. “Here you go. When do you want to eat? I’m getting hungry.”
“In a half hour?” Liz whispered back, her shoulders slumped with fatigue. “If they don’t have any more vomiting by then, I think the worst should be over.”
“OK, I’ll make something quick and easy.”
Alone with her thoughts in the quiet room, Liz leaned back in the hard chair and stretched her long legs out in front of her. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift, imagining a happier future where she and the children were safe and in a home of their own.
Smells drifted in from the kitchen, and she looked at her watch. She was relieved that the children were sleeping, because she was hungry. She joined Lucille at the table, and they discussed their schedules for the next few days. Lucille was going to work the upcoming Saturday. Liz would stay home and take care of her lip, her jaw, and her children.
The kitchen cleanup went fast. Liz put chicken noodle soup in a container for the children in case they woke up hungry. On the way to her bedroom, she glanced out the living-room window and froze. “Lucille, looks like Ron’s parked across the street. Come see.”
Lucille came from her office. “Yep, that’s the truck I saw following us earlier. I didn’t get a good look at the driver.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure it’s him. What should we do?”
“As long as he stays in his truck, we can’t do anything, not without a restraining order.” Lucille stared at the truck and then pulled the drapes closed. “I think you’d better stay close to the house this weekend. And you better hope he doesn’t follow you to work next week.”
“OK, I’m just going to take some more aspirin, have a hot bath, and pretend he’s not parked out there. If it looks like the kids will sleep through the night, I’m going to bed. I know it’s early, but I’m whipped.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be right behind you.”
Liz soaked in the tub. The hot water soothed her tired body, and the aspirin dulled the throbbing pain in her face. She put on a nightgown, but, before she could get into bed, she had to know. She padded into the living room in her bare feet to peer through the curtains, and her knees went weak with relief. The truck was gone.
* * *
Chapter six
Liz followed Ronnie and Regina into the kitchen the next morning. Ronnie ran directly to the stove and tugged on the hem of Lucille’s yellow T-shirt. “My tummy hurted a lot last night, but it’s better now.”
Regina was right behind him. “Yeah, mine too.”
Lucille grinned at Liz as she poured some cooking oil into a frying pan and ruffled Ronnie’s hair. “If you’re all better, do you think you can eat some breakfast this morning?”
“Yes, please.” Ronnie smiled. “Can we have pancakes?”
Regina clapped her hands. “Yes, I love pancakes.”
Lucille chuckled. “OK, pancakes it is.” She found a box of crayons and paper. “Here, sit at the table while I cook, and color your mom something special.” She placed magnets by the crayons. “You can use these to put the pictures on the refrigerator.”
“Wow!” She glanced at Liz, sitting at the table. “Your lip seems even better, and you look rested. How’d you sleep?”
“I slept like a rock. I feel almost human this morning.”
Lucille poured batter into the frying pan and pointed to the coffeepot. “Good. While I’m cooking, pour yourself some brew, and then would you mind getting the paper? I haven’t read it for a few days.”
“Sure.” Liz poured herself a cup of Lucille’s black magic, took a few sips, and headed for the front door.
It was chilly so she pulled her robe tight around her and strolled down the walkway toward the newspaper. The neighbor’s black-and-white cat ran to her across the lawn and rubbed her leg. She reached down to stroke his thick fur, and when she stood, he scampered away. She took some time to breathe in the fresh morning air. Then she remembered the newspaper. She picked it up and walked back toward the house. What is that taped to the front door? It’s probably for Lucille. As Liz got closer, she saw her name printed in large black letters.
Her heart jumped to her throat as she reached for the envelope. She turned it over in her hand, afraid to open it. It wasn’t sealed, so she reached inside. She recognized Ron’s handwriting and paused on the front step. Forgetting about breakfast, she read his note.
Dear Liz,
It’s been a rough few days for me. I know you left because of the drinking, but I miss you and the kids. Please come back. You didn’t see me, but I went to the club and saw you dancing, and I hate it. If I stop spending so much on beer, you could stop dancing. At least listen to me. I will come by Saturday around ten so we can talk. Please answer the door.
All My Love,
Ron
She read it several times and her mind reeled with questions. Did he even know he’d hurt me? Liz frowned. Hah, I’m not going back to that monster, and I’m not gonna see him Saturday. She read the note one more time. Mm…no anger in it. That’s a good sign. “Whoops, breakfast,” she murmured, and she went into the house.
When she got to the kitchen, she stopped at the table and peered over the children’s shoulders. “What’re you drawing?”
“I’m drawing you a cat.” Ronnie pointed at what resembled a feline face.
“That’s good, honey. Does he have a name?”
“Nope, just cat.”
Regina held hers up. “See mine, Mommy. Mine’s gonna be a tree.”
What Liz saw on the paper was a long curvy brown line. “That’s gonna be nice, honey. It just needs some green leaves.” She picked up the green crayon and drew a leaf on the brown line. “See, like that.”
Lucille rapped her knuckles against the table. “I hope your breakfast is still warm.” What took you so long?” Lucille sounded cross as she glanced at Liz’s full plate of food on the table.
“Ah, it’ll be fine.” Liz didn’t even look at her food. Instead, she laid the newspaper on the table, sat, and held up the note. “Read this. It was taped to the door. It gives me the creeps.”
Lucil
le gave her a dirty look, took the note, and set it beside her plate. “I’ll read it after I finish eating.”
“You look mad. What’s wrong?”
“Well, I’ve made you coffee, fixed you and the kids breakfast, and all I asked you to do was bring me the newspaper, which should have taken two minutes. One of my pet peeves is having people show up late at the table. Maybe you like cold food, but I don’t.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d taken so long.” She pointed at the envelope. “I got a little distracted by that note.” She shoved a forkful of cold pancake into her mouth, and swallowed the bite whole. “By the way, these pancakes are still warm and delicious.” She fibbed as she ate the last chilly bite.
Liz saw Lucille open her mouth to speak, but Ronnie interrupted. “Mom, can we go play in our room now?”
“Yes, but first please take your plates to the sink and wash those sticky hands.”
When the children were out of the kitchen, Liz patted Lucille’s hand from across the table. “Were you about to say something?”
“Yes. Apology accepted. I just hate serving cold food. I need my specs to read.” Lucille stood, grabbed her glasses from the desk, and returned to the table. When she finished reading the note, she peered over her spectacles at Liz. “So what do you think about this?”
“Well, I won’t do what he’s asking. His note sounds nice, but just wait. When he sees I’m not coming back, all hell’s gonna break loose. What do you think?”
“Is it possible you could be a family again if he stopped drinking? The note makes him sound like maybe he’s sorry and wants to do better.” Lucille frowned and laid the note in front of her. “If I thought that was possible, I’d encourage you to try.”
Surprised by the question, Liz grabbed the note, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’ll never go back to that monster. I hate him, and besides, this note doesn’t say that he’s going to stop drinking.” She laid the note on the table. “The truth is, he abused me.”