Breaking Free

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Breaking Free Page 22

by Jennifer Slattery

“What do you mean?” She stammered, the image of Trent’s sad eyes still haunting her.

  “I’m starved. Mind if we stopped by a burger joint on the way?”

  She slumped in her seat and stared out the window. “Sure. Whatever.”

  “Great, because I hate eating alone.”

  Ten minutes later, they pulled into a crumbling parking lot shared by a boxlike café with pale cream stucco and a gray mechanics shop. The sign dangling from the flat red roof read, “Elsie’s Kitchen.”

  “Don’t let the dingy windows and peeling paint fool you. This place has the best burgers around.”

  She studied his easy smile and teasing eyes. “Why didn’t you get something back at the diner?”

  His face hardened, the intensity in his eyes sending a shiver through her. His smile returned just as quickly. “Got so busy running around, getting gas, helping you, I guess I forgot about my growling stomach. Besides, I think there’s a law about eating at the same place twice in one day.”

  He led her across the lot and held the door open for her. “Thought I’d shake it up a bit. Go from greasy pancakes to greasy burgers.”

  Once inside, she clutched her purse in front of her and looked around. This wasn’t the drive-through window she expected. Long rectangular booths lined each wall, jagged tears revealing yellowed stuffing. Plastic red-and-white-checkered tablecloths covered the tables. Countertop 1950s jukeboxes sat between ketchup bottles and salt and pepper.

  “You all right?”

  Alice fingered her wedding ring. “I wasn’t expecting . . .” a date.

  No, this wasn’t a date. He was just lonely and didn’t want to eat alone. Besides, he was helping her out. It wasn’t like she could dictate when he should take her home. And this sure beat a $20 cab fare.

  “Is this all right? Because if you’re short on time . . .”

  “No. No, this is fine.”

  His smile returned. He grabbed a menu from the hostess stand, tossed a wink to the redheaded waitress then led Alice to a booth in the back.

  “Ladies first.” He motioned for Alice to sit.

  Alice’s stomach tightened as she slid across the smooth plastic seat. Austin sat next to her, lifted the menu, and chuckled.

  He held it in the air. “Should’ve grabbed two, huh?” Holding the menu between them, he scooted closer. His leg brushed against hers, causing her breath to catch. “Mind if we share?”

  She straightened and cupped her hands on her knees. “This will be fine.”

  “Found this place by accident heading home from work one day. The freeways were all backed up, so I thought I’d take a detour.” He laughed. “I took a detour all right. An almost two-hour one. By the time I passed this joint, I was so starved it felt like my stomach was being ripped out. Their greasy burgers saved my life.”

  The waitress approached and placed two glasses of ice water in front of them. “What’ll it be?”

  Austin set the menu on the table. “I’ll take a bacon cheeseburger, no mayo. Heavy on the onion.” He glanced at Alice. “If you don’t mind a little onion breath.”

  She jerked back, eyes wide. What did that mean?

  “To drink?”

  “Mmm, give me one of those giant root beer floats, with extra whip cream.”

  The waitress looked at Alice. “And for you?”

  “Oh, I’m not hungry. Thank you anyways.”

  “Ah, come one.” Austin made an exaggerated sad face. “You’re not going to make me eat alone, are you? You have to get something.”

  Alice allowed a small smile. She really needed to relax—to quit riding the shirttails of her imagination. “All right. I’ll take a float, too.”

  After the waitress left, Austin said, “Have you been able to find out any more about your house?”

  She frowned. So this was a pity party thrown in her honor, then. “I’ve got an appointment with a lawyer next Monday—a free consultation. But I doubt there’s much I can do at this point, not that I can afford, anyway.”

  Austin pulled his glass closer and stirred the ice with his straw. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She fiddled with the sugar packets. “Life goes on. It’s probably my fault for not paying closer attention. I should’ve known something was wrong.” Why was she telling him all this? “What about you? Where do you work?”

  “I’m what they call a career coach.”

  “That sounds interesting.”

  “Not really. More like a glorified shrink, in many ways. Teach people to maximize their strengths and minimize their weaknesses.”

  They talked about the diner, the cost of gas, how they thought the Seahawks would do next season. It was almost like they were old friends, and it felt nice. By the time the waitress gave Austin the check, Alice chided herself for making such a big deal out of coming here.

  Austin tossed $20 on the table then slid out of the booth. “You ready?”

  She nodded and followed him out of the restaurant and to his truck. As usual, he held the door open for her. She climbed in and let him close it.

  He got in and fastened his seatbelt. “You know, I have a friend who’s a mechanic. I’ll ask him to give your van a once over.”

  For free? Hopefully, though she didn’t have the courage to ask. “That would be great, thanks.” If the mechanic found something major, like a shot transmission, she’d be wiped out completely.

  “No problem.” Austin eased into the street, following the steady flow of traffic. The image of Trent’s pained expression back in the diner parking lot remained imprinted in her mind, tearing open old wounds that had only begun to heal.

  Was he sober?

  She closed her eyes and rested her head against the warm glass. She didn’t want to think about Trent or his addictions. She didn’t have the energy. Not anymore. All she wanted to do was get home, draw up a nice hot bath, and forget about everything.

  “You all right?”

  She opened her eyes. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”

  Austin’s face softened. “I can imagine.”

  They returned to small talk as he drove past Green Lake Park and the adjacent private golf course, and for that, Alice was grateful.

  “Ever play?” he asked.

  “Once. But after about ten pond shots and a few dead squirrels, I gave it up.”

  He let out a low whistle and turned down Alice’s street. “Remind me never to take you golfing.”

  “As long as you wear safety goggles and a hard hat, you’ll be fine.”

  Laughing, he pulled along the curb across from Gertrude’s house.

  Alice faced him. “Thanks. For everything.”

  She paused to watch a kitten chase a windblown leaf across the road. When she turned back to Austin, she halted at the intensity in his eyes. Before she could respond, or even decide how to, he cupped the back of her head and leaned forward, his breath hot against her face.

  “Stop!” She pressed her palm into his chest and pushed him away. “What are you doing?” His eyes darkened. She held up her left hand. “I’m married.”

  The tendons in his jaw twitched and a dark shadow fell over his eyes. Just as quickly, his easy smile returned. He traced her cheek with his finger. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You’re just so beautiful.”

  Fumbling for the door handle, she dashed out. She mumbled a final, “Thanks for the ride” over her shoulder, taking the steps two at a time. Gertrude met her at the door with a pitcher of lemonade and raised eyebrows.

  “Your friend’s not staying?”

  “Not today.” She inhaled three quick breaths and watched Austin’s vehicle disappear down the street.

  CHAPTER 42

  Trent yawned, his eyes still heavy with sleep, as Ethan pulled into a circular drive lined with ferns and flowering dogwood trees. A slanting, hexagon-shaped house with a single windowpane stretching from floor to roof nestled between two western hemlocks.

  Ethan parked and got out as th
e rest of his crew pulled up beside him in a white van.

  He grabbed a clipboard off the dash and turned to Trent. “You can shadow today. Help carry things in, clean up the trash, stuff like that. But don’t worry, I have a feeling you’ll be laying flooring in no time.”

  Trent eyed his callus-free hands then watched the other men, muscular and dressed in faded T-shirts and ripped jeans, pile out of the van. Something told him this wouldn’t be a walk in the park.

  Ethan bounded up the front steps while his crew unloaded buckets, towels, and tools.

  After a few chimes of the doorbell, a gray-haired man in a navy polo and plaid shorts answered.

  “Good morning, Mr. Rice. You ready to have your floors gutted?”

  “I’m past ready, son.”

  The man moved aside to let Ethan and the other guys, weighed down with tools, in. Trent set his load against the wall then watched as Ethan’s crew made quick work of the carpet, slicing through its thick fibers and ripping it off the ground. Once they freed it from the tacks, they rolled it up and hauled it back to the van while others tore up the carpet pad.

  Ethan tossed Trent a broom. “Sweep up all the staples and other junk.”

  He nodded and got to work. Anything to take his mind off Alice sitting in someone else’s truck, as if headed on a date. Three days later, he still couldn’t get the image of her and that man out of his head. It dominated his every thought. Who was that guy? How long had Alice been seeing him? Was that why she left? No, he knew why she left. His addictions drove her away. And yet, if it hadn’t been for this man, would she have stuck it out?

  “Hey, Trent. Wanna help me with this asphalt felt?” Ethan jerked his head toward a thick, black roll next to the wall.

  “Sure.” He needed the distraction. But despite the physical labor and hectic pace, the day dragged on. The temptation to numb his emotions with alcohol pulled at him, causing his hands to sweat. Gritting his teeth, he squeezed his eyes closed. Would sobriety ever get any easier?

  At noon they took a break and the crew filed out onto the driveway. They sat on overturned buckets and toolboxes. Ethan produced a stack of cups and set them on the ground next to a jug of water. He grabbed one, filled it, then handed it to Trent.

  “Thanks.” Trent pulled a paper lunch bag from a nearby crate and sat against the retaining wall.

  Ethan joined him. “How’re you holding up?”

  Trent shoved a handful of chips in his mouth. “It’s a job.”

  Ethan studied him. “I can tell your mind’s working on something. It hurts, I know.”

  He shrugged and took a gulp of water.

  Ethan placed his hand on his shoulder. “Just give her time.”

  He huffed and shook his head.

  “There’s always hope, man. And hope never disappoints.”

  Trent wanted to believe him but some bridges were too far gone for repairing.

  A couple of days after her encounter with Trent, with her van still sitting in the diner parking lot, Alice called Beth. “Hi. I’m sorry to bother you.”

  “You could never bother me. Is everything OK?”

  “Yeah. Well, sort of.” She took a deep breath. “Is Ed around?” Why was it so hard to ask for help? “My van’s having problems. I know Ed’s pretty mechanically minded. I was hoping maybe he could come take a look at it. I’d owe him big time.”

  “I’m sure he’d be happy to. Hold on.” The phone clanked against something hard, followed by silence. Beth returned. “Where’s it at?”

  “The diner.”

  “We’re on our way.”

  Beth and Ed showed up at Alice’s apartment 30 minutes later. Beth wrapped her in a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve been meaning to phone you.” Beth had called three times since Alice moved. She’d planned on calling her back, eventually. “I’ve been so busy, with work and moving and all.” She indicated a stack of boxes lining the far wall.

  “No biggie.” Beth glanced over Alice’s shoulder. “Your apartment’s homey. And Gertrude seems like a real sweetie.”

  Alice laughed. “So you met Gertrude.”

  “And her lemonade.” Ed rubbed his stomach. “You ready?”

  “Just let me grab my purse.” Alice darted to the kitchen and returned with her purse. She locked the door behind her then followed Beth and Ed to their car.

  They paused to wave good-bye to Gertrude who stood on the porch, a glass of lemonade in hand. She waved as they drove away.

  Beth swiveled to flash Alice a smile. “Love this neighborhood!”

  “Yeah, I really lucked out, considering my budget.” A boy in a baseball cap raced down the sidewalk on his bike.

  “You know, you could have stayed with us. For as long as you needed.”

  “Oh, I know.” Alice spoke fast. “But I wanted to get my own place, for the boys.”

  “I understand. Have you heard from them?”

  She shook her head and faced the window. Beth reached back and squeezed her hand. “They’ll come around. Just keep praying.”

  Or start praying. Why didn’t Alice pray more? Because it hurt too badly, every prayer a reminder of how far she had fallen—how much she had failed. She was so tired, emotionally and physically. Waiting tables, tracking down financial records, calling creditors, unpacking— it was overwhelming.

  Ed turned on the radio and contemporary Christian music poured from the speakers. He and Beth hummed along while Alice watched the houses blur together.

  “What’s your van doing?” Ed glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Can you describe it for me?”

  “Whenever I try to start it, it makes a rrrruhrrreew sound. But it never starts.”

  “Then it’s not your transmission. That’s a good thing. A new transmission, even a used one, would cost a pretty penny. It’s not your battery, either.” He switched lanes. “Could be an electrical problem— with the crank sensor, power relay. Might have a bad ignition coil.” He turned left at the light.

  “How much would that cost to replace?”

  “At the auto repair shop? Could run you as much as $500.”

  Alice blinked. There went her savings.

  “But I could do it for $100.”

  She smiled, relaxing against her seat back. “Thanks, Ed.”

  “Although, if something’s wrong with your engine’s computer, you’re going to have to take it in.”

  “How long would something like that take to fix?”

  “Depends on where you take it and how busy they are.”

  What if Ed couldn’t fix her van? How would she get to work? And what about her appointment with the lawyer? She’d have to take a taxi.

  Ed merged onto I-5 south and moved into the right lane behind a pickup loaded with furniture and boxes secured by bungee cords.

  Beth reached back and touched Alice’s knee. “Don’t worry about it, sweetie. We’ll help you out. Worst case scenario, you can borrow my car.”

  Ed looked at Beth with wide eyes. “Then what are you going to do?”

  “I’ll take yours. I’ll drive you to work in the morning—”

  “Every day? What about when I get an early shift?”

  Beth shot Ed a warning glare. Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, he frowned and focused on the road. The tension in the vehicle made Alice squirm. No one spoke until he pulled into the diner parking lot.

  He stopped next to Alice’s van and cut the engine. “Here we are.”

  “How about you and I get ourselves one of those insanely large milkshakes you told me about while we wait for Ed to work his magic.” Beth glanced at Ed. “You mind?”

  Ed waved them off. “Anything to get you out of my hair.”

  Beth pushed her lips into a pout, threw her hair over her shoulder in mock irritation, and grabbed Alice by the elbow. “Wow, such love.” She laughed and led her across the lot and into the diner.

  Melba met them with a grin. “Couldn’t get enough of this place, huh?”<
br />
  “I don’t know about that.” Alice scanned the restaurant for empty tables, her hands clammy. She exhaled. Austin wasn’t here. Good. She turned back to Melba. “My friend wanted to try one of your famous chocolate milk shakes.”

  “Oh, did she now?” Melba tucked her order pad in her waistband and grabbed two large glasses off the rack. “Extra whip cream?”

  “Extra, extra.” Beth shot Alice a wink.

  “Better make that two,” Alice said.

  “How about three?” Beth said. “We can’t go back empty-handed.”

  Alice led Beth to a corner booth in the back, and then settled into the smooth red cushions. She smiled as Beth slid next to her. She’d really missed her friend, more than she’d realized. Beth was the one person Alice could always count on, the one person who loved her without expectation or judgment. And it felt really good to see her again, to get in a little girl time, even if the circumstances were less than pleasant.

  “So, tell me about this apartment of yours. How’d you find it?”

  Alice told her about the Church of Sacred Reflections and Betty Frye, and was glad Beth didn’t give her a guilt trip for trying another church. She seemed to understand Alice’s need to start fresh, unnoticed.

  “It’s small, traditional. Mostly an older congregation, minus a handful of young families.” She told her about Betty and her mile-a-minute storytelling.

  Beth shook her head. “What a coincidence, huh?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Of all the churches you could have gone to in the Seattle- Kirkland area, you picked the one that advertised a rental in the church bulletin. And of all the people you could have sat by, you sit next to the woman renting it out.”

  “Yeah, pretty crazy.”

  “You know, you’re always welcome at Bible study. The girls miss you.”

  She toyed with her silverware.

  Beth touched her hand. “Don’t worry. They don’t care. I mean, they care, but not in the way you’re thinking. Their hearts go out to you.”

  Alice ran her finger along a scratch in the table. Luckily Melba returned before the silence became too unbearable, bringing three large milkshakes with her, one in a to-go cup. Two inches of whip cream mountained the tops.

 

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