by T. L. Haddix
Pretending to think, Molly smiled. “Not that tired.” Her pulse accelerated as he reached behind her and turned out the lights. Saying a brief prayer that both her children would someday find the kind of love she shared with this man, she led him upstairs.
Chapter Ten
Sunday afternoon at the Bowl-A-Rama was shaping up to be both crazy and enjoyable. Lauren and Molly had arrived early in order to set up; shortly after that, family and guests alike started to arrive.
Tristan had driven up with his girlfriend, Joy, and the two of them were keeping Winston and Ava company. As they were putting the final touches on the trays of food, there was a loud shout from the pit.
“What in the world?” Molly frowned as Joy jumped up and down, clapping her hands and squealing.
Gazing around the bowling alley, Lauren saw that most of the men in the vicinity had paused what they were doing to watch. She shook her head, disgusted.
“I hope old Mr. Zollman can stand the excitement.” Molly’s voice was dry as she nodded toward the elderly gentleman avidly watching Joy wiggle and jiggle her way back to Tristan.
Lauren, seeing the look on her mother’s face, grinned. She had the feeling that her brother’s date was going to be hearing a little lecture on decorum before they left for Louisville that evening.
“At least Tris has the good sense to be embarrassed.” She gestured to where her brother sat, head in hands. He lifted his face to look in their direction. He blushed a deep shade of red when he saw his mother’s look. He shrugged as if to say ‘sorry’ and said something to Winston, who was shaking his head, clearly torn between embarrassment and amusement.
“Are you going to rescue Daddy? Or are you going to make him suffer a little longer?”
Molly set her hands on her hips. “What do you think I should do?”
“I’d rescue him. It is his birthday party, after all.”
“I guess I should. You okay here?”
“Of course.”
Molly headed off. When Tristan looked at Lauren, his expression similar to that of a deer caught in headlights, she waved, enjoying his discomfort. He glowered at her, and she burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
Startled, Lauren saw Charlie standing a few feet away with a baker’s box in his hand.
“Where’d you come from?”
“Well, my mother and my father…” He stopped when she raised her eyebrow. “Not the right answer. Okay.” He sat the box down on the table.
She shot him a wary look. “What’s in the box?”
He crossed his arms and looked out over the bowling alley. “Butterscotch pie. I’ve developed a taste for it lately. Funny, that.”
Lauren felt her cheeks heat, and she started to apologize. Before she could, however, Charlie spoke.
“Could we talk? In private?”
“There’s a little alcove back where the door to the bar is. We can step back there.” She led him down a short hall, to the closed double doors to the bar. Arms crossed, she faced him.
He spoke first. “I owe you an apology. I was way out of line the other day, and I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry.”
Lauren was taken aback. She hadn’t expected him to be so straightforward. She also wasn’t ready to let him off the hook so easily. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have said those things. Why did you?”
He jammed his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders. “I don’t have an excuse. I’d had about three hours’ sleep the night before, and a couple of bad days, and I took it out on you. You weren’t far off when you accused me of being jealous. You were dead on, as a matter of fact.”
Lauren looked away, watching Ava greet several newcomers. “I see.”
“So anyhow. I really am sorry. It won’t happen again. I just wanted you to know”
Seeing his embarrassment and sincerity, she relented. “I accept your apology.” When the tension in his posture faded, she shook her head. “I still don’t like what you said, though. I know we don’t know each other very well, but I don’t think I’ve given you any reason to believe I’m the kind of person that would act that way.”
“You aren’t.” He crossed his own arms, mirroring her pose. She could see that he was debating whether or not to say something, and she held her tongue while he decided. Finally, he shook his head.
“I had a run-in with Ransom that morning, and it pretty much soured the day for me. My father doesn’t bring out the best in me. Again, it’s no excuse, but with no sleep, him getting on my case, and my own jealousy, well, it was a bad combination.”
“I understand. Almost. And I owe you an apology, as well. I shouldn’t have thrown the pie. Oh—we’ve been spotted.”
Ava ran up to them. “Hey, Charlie, you came! Are you gonna bowl? Please say yes,” she begged, dancing in place.
“I might bowl a game or two.”
Ava’s face lit up even brighter, something Lauren hadn’t thought possible. “Good, ’cause Uncle Tristan brought his girlfriend, and Grandma said she wiggles too much.”
Lauren sputtered with laughter, which she quickly disguised with a cough. Seeing Charlie’s puzzled look, she shook her head. “You’ll see.”
They started back toward the public area, and he stopped to swing Ava onto his back for a piggyback ride. “Don’t know how I’ll manage to bowl with this monkey on my back. Might make it hard to hit the pins.” Ava clutched his shoulders, giggling the whole time. “What about you, Lauren? Surely you’re going to bowl?”
Ava let out a long and mournful ‘noooooooo’ at the same time Lauren hid her face in her hands. “Mommy doesn’t bowl very well. She usually hits the other people’s balls.”
Charlie shot Lauren a quizzical look, and she groaned. “I’m not the best bowler in the world, okay? And I don’t hit the other people’s balls, honey, I hit their pins.”
Still looking puzzled, he asked, “You mean you bowl out of turn?”
“No, I mean I aim for the pins at the end of my own lane, and the ball may or may not cross over and hit someone else’s. Daddy says I’m a changeling when we go bowling. I usually only actually bowl when they’re a person short and desperate.”
Charlie winced. “That bad, huh?” Lauren and Ava nodded. “Well, maybe you should pretend it’s a pie. You seemed to have good aim the other day.”
Ava dissolved in giggles, and Charlie grinned.
“Sounds like the three of you are having lots of fun over here.” Tristan had come to meet them. He offered his hand, and Lauren introduced him to Charlie as they shook. “Nice to meet you. Can I borrow my niece for a little bit?”
Charlie set her down, tugging on her ponytail. Lauren was surprised when the little girl threw her arms around his waist and hugged him before going with Tristan.
“She likes you. I guess you can’t be all bad-tempered ogre, then.”
His expression was a little wistful. “She’s a great kid. You’ve done a good job with her. Being a single parent isn’t easy.”
She pushed her hair back behind her ear. “She’s an incredibly easy kid. I don’t know how much of the credit I deserve.” They reached the pit where Lauren’s family sat and Tristan’s girlfriend got up to take her turn, much more subdued than before.
“Oh,” Charlie said, his voice low, as he saw the woman’s abundant curves, particularly on top. “I get it.”
Lauren allowed a little of her amusement to show. “That’s her. She ‘wiggles too much.’ I wish I could have seen Tristan’s face when Mom said that.” She snickered and Charlie cleared his throat, a small grin edging in around his mouth as he looked at her again.
“I’d bet Molly eased it into the conversation as easily as most people would say ‘pass the ketchup,’ too. She has a gift for that sort of thing.”
“Yes, she does.” She was inexplicably pleased to see that his gaze had not lingered on Joy. “She can deliver a scolding so well that you aren’t sure whether to apologize or thank her.”
Stopping next to Winston, Lauren leaned down and hugged him. “How’s the birthday boy?” She gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek before she straightened.
He grinned up at her. “Winning. You aren’t going to bowl today, are you?”
She pretended to consider the question, enjoying the brief panic that came over Winston’s face, and laughed when she saw him cast a worried look from her to the scoreboard and back again.
“No, Daddy, I’m sitting the games out today. Your score is safe.” He wiped his brow in not-quite pretend relief. “I think Charlie’s going to bowl, though. My work here is done.” Excusing herself to go check on the food, she saw Charlie watching her. She was going to have to do some serious thinking about him.
Chapter Eleven
The dream came, as it often did, on soft footsteps. The room was dark, and the mattress underneath her was not soft. She felt him thrusting inside her, heard the bedsprings squeaking, and could smell his sweat and her own. The air was still, and the odor of sex permeated it. As he grunted and groaned, she couldn’t believe no one else heard the sounds. They were so loud in her own ears that they were all she could hear.
The room was pitch black, no light from the window, the stars, or the moon. It was an empty black, signifying the way he made her feel. She could feel her body responding against her will, and knew that it would excite him even further. Waves of shame rolled through her as she fought to reach that place where she felt nothing. She did not want this violation, and she couldn’t understand how her body could betray her. A lone, silent tear ran from the corner of her eye and she bit her lip. She knew that any protest she made would heighten his pleasure, so she stayed still and quiet.
His weight lifted off of her as if he floated away. A faint light appeared around the edges of her vision, and just as suddenly as the nightmare had started, it changed. The light came into focus above her in a strobe-like pattern. Her vision cleared and she realized that she was on a gurney. She tried to move her arms and legs, but they were strapped down.
Moving her head back, she saw who was pushing the gurney. It was her doctor, the one who had saved her life all those years ago after she’d… But no. Her mind wouldn’t let her go there. He was gowned, as if ready to operate, but didn’t have his mask in place.
She tried to ask him where they were going, why she was there, but her tongue felt thick and wouldn’t work. Swallowing, she was finally able to clear her mouth enough to ask her questions in a nearly inaudible voice. He didn’t acknowledge her. She tried to ask again, but was too weak. Giving in, she laid her head back on the gurney.
With a sudden jolt, the end of the gurney hit a pair of double doors with such force that they slammed into the wall and bounced back, rebounding toward the gurney. Two gowned attendants rushed to hold the doors, and she found herself being wheeled into an operating room. The large lights suspended from the ceiling were pointing directly at her, blindingly bright.
Looking down at her body, she realized she was naked. In the harsh white light, every scar, every augmentation, was starkly visible. They stood out as though outlined, the flesh around the incisions red and inflamed.
Without warning, the doctor was suddenly between her legs, and a horrible vacuum cleaner-like noise started. The attendants approached her quickly, strapping her legs into the gurney’s stirrups so that she could not close them.
“It will all be over soon, don’t you worry.” The doctor, his face now hidden behind a mask, looked up the length of her body. All she could see were his eyes, which glowed like a demon’s. As one, the attendants stepped back against the wall. She looked around, desperately seeking someone to help her and realized the room was full of people. Lining the edges of the room were nurses and other surgical staff. Instead of helping, they watched, pointing at her and judging.
Painful pressure built in her abdomen. She looked down between her legs and was startled to see that her belly was swollen, fully pregnant. An intense pain gripped her, followed by an irresistible urge to push. It felt like she was being ripped in half, and she screamed.
The level of pain seemed to have no limit, but then it abruptly stopped and a flood of liquid gushed from her body. The pressure and pain were gone, leaving her panting and still strapped to the table.
The gowned doctor stood up, once again visible over her now-flat abdomen. To her horror, he was holding an infant by the feet.
“Why isn’t he crying?”
The doctor didn’t respond. Instead, he dangled the child and inspected him the way she’d seen her mother examine a dead chicken.
She screamed it this time. “Why isn’t he crying?”
The doctor met her eyes at last and as she watched, panic and despair building, one of the attendants pulled a garbage can over to him. He pulled his mask down, finally allowing her to see his face clearly. She recognized him, and her heart stopped.
Though he still had demonic eyes, he was no longer the kindly man who had saved her life. Now he was a very angry and vengeful Travis Tyler. He opened his mouth to respond and she saw that his teeth were sharp and pointed, decaying around the edges. Even though he stood at the foot of the gurney, she could smell his fetid, sulfuric breath.
“Why isn’t he crying? I’ll tell you why,” he said with a feral grin. “He isn’t crying because you killed him.” With those words he opened his hand, dropping the baby into the garbage can.
Jerking awake, she found herself crying. She slowly became aware that she had been dreaming. The searing pain returned, but this time deep inside her soul instead of inside her body. Falling back on the bed, her body was racked by great, choking sobs as she curled into a fetal position. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying, many years too late, to hold on to what she had thrown away so long ago.
Chapter Twelve
Coming out of Sew On and Sew Forth, Mary Margaret Vernon checked her watch. She and her daughter-in-law, Iris, had been in the store nearly an hour, and were both ready for a break.
“We still have some of the money Troy gave me, Mother Vernon.” Iris put the bags in the trunk of their car. “Do you want to try the café that nice lady told us about?”
“That’d be nice. Where do you think Troy got to with Jamie?” She didn’t see her son anywhere. He had taken the baby with him when they decided to go into the fabric and yarn store after Iris’s appointment with her doctor. They didn’t come to town often, money being tight, and had decided to make a day of it while they were here.
“I’m sure he’ll find us. Come on, I’m starving.”
With one last glance around, she followed Iris into the café. When they opened the door, they were enveloped by the smells of freshly brewed coffee and yeasty dough. Despite the homey scents, the shop was trendy, and Mary Margaret immediately felt a little uncomfortable. She always associated places like this one with modern, wealthy people, the kind who looked down on plain, modest folks like herself. Glancing at Iris, she saw the girl’s pleased expression and remembered her daughter-in-law’s background. This was just the sort of establishment she had probably frequented before she married Troy.
“I’m going to the restroom. Order me something light, if you will.” Once inside, she pulled out her phone and called home to check on her husband. She hated leaving him, even for a few hours, sick as he was. Her sister, Patricia, answered the phone.
“It’s me. I just called to check on Carl.”
“He’s fine. Pastor Jenkins came by to check on him earlier, and they had a good visit. He’s resting now. How’s Iris?”
“The girl’s fine. Doctor thinks this baby’s probably a boy. We’re going to get something to eat, then get some groceries and head on home. Call me if you need me.”
After hanging up, she took care of her business and washed her hands. Peering into the mirror over the sink, she frowned. She didn’t like looking at herself, didn’t like what she saw. She’d turned into an old woman, practically overnight, it seemed. She knew it was because of
what had happened all those years ago.
Thinking about that time never resulted in anything good. The last time she’d been in town, she’d seen one of the whores responsible for her misery. It was one of the reasons she hated coming into Leroy—the chance that she might run into the parasites who’d ruined her life.
She straightened her skirt and blouse. The movement soothed her anxiety. Leroy was a small town, but it wasn’t that small. What were the chances she’d run into Lauren today? Surely the Lord wouldn’t be so cruel, especially after such good news about the baby Iris carried. No, she’d put her faith in the Lord, and trust that he’d keep her from harm. Nodding at herself in the mirror, she left the restroom.
~ * * * ~
Charlie saw the two women come into the shop. The lunch rush hadn’t started yet, so the shop wasn’t very crowded, only a handful of people sitting around the room. He leaned against the counter, chatting with Janet while he waited for Lauren to come down from the office.
Sonny had sent him over with a check for the desserts, and some gift certificates for Lauren and her staff as a thank you for the use of the ovens. He’d meant to bring them over last week but a round of the summer flu hit the restaurant’s employees, and things were hectic.
Charlie was so busy that, when Lauren called him after Win’s party to ask him out to dinner with her and Ava, he hadn’t been able to accept. When things slowed down on Friday, he immediately called her to reschedule. They went out for pizza and miniature golf that evening, and things had gone well. They saw each other again on Sunday, at her parents’ house. He was starting to think about the long-term, and that both scared and exhilarated him.
Moving aside so Janet could take care of the young pregnant woman who was reading the menu, he smiled and nodded at the girl, wondering how old she was. She didn’t look old enough to be pregnant, that was certain. As he sipped his coffee, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. The older woman she’d come in with returned from the restroom and joined her at the register. Hearing Lauren’s voice in the kitchen, he walked to the door to meet her. He felt a warm grin break out as she came through the door. When she returned the pleased expression, his heart fluttered.