by M. E. Carter
I must have a stunned look on my face because Tammy smiles like the cat that ate the canary.
“Realizing I’m right, aren’t you? Does that mean you’re going to do something about it?”
It takes a few seconds before my head stops spinning and I can get my words in order to respond. I finally nod sheepishly knowing the first thing I need to do is apologize to the woman I hurt. “I think I need to, don’t you?”
She bangs one hand on the counter. “Thank goodness you finally figured it out. I was getting tired of wading through the sexual tension every night.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I still have some amends to make and it’s up to her if she forgives me.”
“At least that snowball is finally moving in the right direction, though.” Tammy grabs the tray and turns to walk away then thinks better of it. “And another thing!” she yells.
What could she possibly be talking about now?
“We need more help around here. If we’re going to have all these hunky guys drinking every night, you need to start looking to hire a couple of people. At this point, there is no way this place is going to fail, even if you try to sabotage it. Give this old woman a break.”
She’s making a lot of sense tonight about a lot of things. Not for the first time, I’m grateful she stayed when I took over.
“Noted. I’ll post some want adds to find a new waitress.”
“And a new bartender. Plan to succeed, boss. We’re gonna need both.”
The front door opens and the humidity hits me like a freight train. So does the sound of a dozen or so professional football players celebrating a win. It’s go time as the team starts to trickle in. Frankie goes straight to Tammy for a kiss on the cheek, which makes her blush and giggle, then goes to sit at his favorite booth.
Tammy and I hustle for a solid hour plus as drinks are ordered and served. This is what I love—when we’re busy and customers are happy, significant others joining in to give their congratulations on a well-deserved win.
The only one seemingly not happy is Dwayne, who realizes he made a bad choice on drinking tonight. I can’t help but chuckle at his bad luck. Tammy’s right about him. He’s a staple in this bar and if this is where he’s happy and comfortable, it doesn’t really matter what anyone else thinks. I appreciate Tammy reminding me of that, even if it makes me feel like a dick sometimes.
Things finally start to settle into a steady but manageable pace when Heath and Lauren walk in. Heath gestures hello to me and heads for his team. Lauren, on the other hand, walks up to the bar. I have a feeling we’re about to have a heart to heart.
“Before you start, are you here to order, or are you going to berate me, too? Because Tammy already did.”
“I like Tammy more and more,” Lauren says under her breath as she slides on the stool. “I could rip you a new one but I’ve only heard bits and pieces of your night together, which incidentally it’s about damn time. But Kiersten has bigger fish to fry right now so I’ll save it until a later date. Can I get whatever ale you have on tap?”
“Sure. And what do you mean she has bigger fish to fry? Is something else going on? I thought she was just trying to get away from me.”
“Don’t give yourself so much credit. Kiersten has been thoroughly dicked over in ways you can’t even imagine. Your little fickle act doesn’t mean all that much.”
I wince at the harshness of her words. I don’t like being lumped into the category of “men who have screwed Kiersten over.” I also don’t like knowing there is a category at all.
“It’s not me being fickle.”
She gives me a disbelieving look but says nothing.
“It’s not about not being sure of my feelings. It’s… according to Tammy, well, according to me too, it’s fear.”
Lauren takes a drink, showing no reaction to what felt like a huge revelation to me. “Of what?”
“Failing her.”
“Seems to me you already did.”
“I know. And I’ve spent a part of tonight thinking about how to fix it. How to get over myself, I guess,” I say with a deep sigh. “I don’t want to yank her around.”
“She won’t let you anyway. You may have some deep fear of commitment or whatever, but she’s been burned in the hardest way. And one thing I know of Kiersten is she might give you a second chance. Might. But there won’t be a third. You better be damn sure you don’t squander it.”
“I won’t.”
“See that you don’t.” Lauren slides off the stool, and I assume this conversation is over. But I need to know one more thing before she gets back to her friends.
“Hey, Lauren.”
She looks me in the eye, waiting for whatever I have to say.
“Is she okay? Is Carson? I should have checked on them. I was… I thought I was giving her space.” I could kick myself for assuming Kiersten’s disappearance was about me.
Lauren’s eyes soften as she takes in my very genuine concern. “They’re fine. It’s not my story to tell, but I will say you need to talk to her. I have a feeling you are the only one who can provide the kind of support she needs right now.”
I nod as ideas begin running through my brain on how I can be there for Kiersten. I don’t know what exactly is going on, but I need to make this right. And I won’t make this same mistake again.
TWENTY-FOUR
Kiersten
My back aches from carrying boxes and my whole body is still sore from driving. I’m mentally and physically exhausted, and yet, I’m still going. I don’t have a choice right now. I can’t stop. I won’t stop.
Bleary-eyed, I settle on instant oatmeal for breakfast this morning. It’s not Carson’s favorite, but anything that only requires one hand for eating is easier for Nicole. Right now, that’s my priority.
“Mama!” Carson yells despite my near-constant shushing. “Mama, I hungee!”
I give him my best stern look, but he doesn’t tear his eyes from the television, instead, continuing his demands.
“Mama!”
Huffing, I walk his plastic bowl to the small table before approaching him. “Carson, your food is on the table. Now stop yelling. NicNic is sleeping.”
“No, she’s not.”
My sister comes shuffling out of the bedroom, careful not to move too quickly. It takes everything in me not to react to her appearance, knowing it only makes things harder when I do. But that doesn’t mean my heart doesn’t feel like it stalls whenever I take her in.
When I first met her at the hospital, her hair was matted and she had blood all over her face mixed in with mascara that at some point had been dripping down her cheeks before it dried. I don’t know how long that little shit Jeremy spent beating her, but it was enough to leave her with a black eye, a broken nose, a fractured wrist, and bruises covering most of her body. And still, as hard as I tried, as hard as the social worker tried, Nicole won’t press charges.
The only good news is the statute of limitations gives her two years to change her mind. Pictures of her injuries were taken, a police report was filed, and I have all the officer’s information. When my sister is ready, I’ll be right here helping her through the legal process.
The other good news is the college allowed her to withdraw, effective immediately, with no penalty to her transcript. I’m almost positive it’s because the dean saw her face, so he pulled some strings. Whether it was out of the kindness of his heart or because he’s afraid they’ll end up on the news due to the beating happening on campus, I’m not sure. Either way, it gives Nicole the ability to start college over when she’s ready.
For now, the only thing I know for certain is she’s moved in with me, disconnected her phone, and shut down all her social media. It’s still not locking that asshole up, but I have to give her credit for at least getting away from him. One step at a time.
Gingerly, she sits down at the table just in time for me to place her oatmeal in front of her.
“How are you feelin
g this morning?”
“Sore,” she says as she picks up her spoon and slowly begins to eat.
“Do you need a painkiller?”
She nods. “Yeah, my wrist is really aching this morning.”
Anger surges through me when she mentions the pain she’s in. It’s a good thing Jeremy never showed his face at the hospital. Jail time is nothing compared to the things I want to do to him for hurting my baby sister.
We get settled at the table, quietly eating our food. Well, most of us are quiet. Carson is wiggling in his seat as always and humming a song he probably made up. Just as he goes to take a big bite, he stops and looks at Nicole.
“Why you hurt, NicNic?”
My heart squeezes with hurt as I watch his wide, innocent eyes take in her appearance. I wonder what conclusions his little mind is coming to and if this is the first of many times he will learn that life is sometimes cruel. I hate that. I hate that at just three years old he’s already seeing the reality of how ugly people can be to each other.
Nicole puts down her spoon and turns all her attention on him. “There was a very bad man who hurt me. But I’m okay, buddy.”
“A bad man?”
“Yes. But he’s veeeery far away. And he can’t hurt me anymore. The police took him and I’m safe now.”
That’s not totally accurate, but I appreciate her trying to give him truthful information without making him scared.
“Chase took bad man?”
I smile at how his little brain immediately thinks of his favorite Paw Patrol character as the policeman who saved the day. Nicole smiles, too and I’m glad to see she can find some amusement in all this.
“Yep. Chase helped me and now everything is okay.”
Carson thinks hard for a few seconds before nodding once and shoving more oatmeal in his mouth.
I smirk and turn to my sister. “Paw Patrol for the win.”
She giggles and I love hearing that sound. To me, it means she’s on the road to healing. Physically and mentally.
“Um… has mom called?” My sister looks up at me, her eyes practically begging me to tell her what she wants to hear. But I can’t be honest and make her feel better at the same time.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”
Tears fill her eyes but she quickly blinks them away. “Well, I guess that’s our answer, isn’t it?”
I grab her hand and squeeze, understanding how hard it is when our mother makes her rejection clear. In my case, however, I got Carson out of the deal. Nicole has just been left on her own with nothing to cling to.
As it turns out, I was the second phone call Nicole made after arriving at the hospital. The first was to our mother who hurried to the ER like any good mother would. When she got there, however, and heard Nicole’s claims, her immediate response was to tell my honest-to-the-bone sister to stop making up stories that could ruin lives.
I wasn’t there when it happened but heard all about it from my sister when I tried to call mom to keep her updated. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. Blaming me for getting pregnant is one thing. Blaming Nicole for getting beat up by her boyfriend is a whole different level of low, even for our mother.
She hasn’t tried to make contact since she was escorted out of the room by the caseworker who was less than thrilled about mom’s lack of support.
Now, we’re on our own. And as glad as I am that I can be here to support Nicole, I admit to feeling some nerves about having another mouth to feed. I could pull Carson out of daycare, but Heath is still the one fronting that bill so it won’t make any difference. Plus, Nicole is in no physical shape to care for a toddler. It’ll all work out somehow, I just don’t have any idea how at this point.
A knock at the door has us shaking off the moment, grateful for a distraction. I leave the two of them to finish their breakfast and go to answer the door. Looking through the peephole, I’m surprised by who I see on the other side.
Pulling the door open, my surprise bleeds through. “Paul?”
“Hi.” His voice is quiet and if I’m hearing it correctly, tinged with a bit of humility.
“What are you doing here?”
“I talked to Lauren last night.”
“Ah.” I should have guessed she would end up at the bar at some point and she’s never been one to hold her tongue.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you have bigger issues right now than me and my fear of failure.”
That is not what I expected him to say. Not only did he just admit the fight we had stems from something deeper than just a misunderstanding, but he’s pushing it aside until the more important issues can be fixed. I hate that it makes me want to forgive him, but there it is. And yet, he’s not done.
“I brought some supplies.” He holds up some canvas grocery sacks I hadn’t noticed until now. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I hope it takes some of the pressure off while you sort out, well, whatever.”
Stunned by his thoughtfulness, although I probably shouldn’t be surprised since he tends to be a thoughtful guy, I wave him in. He continues to ramble on about what he brought.
“I brought mostly pantry stuff that wouldn’t go bad.” He places the bags on the couch and begins riffling through them. “Um, I found some little graham cracker bites that are shaped like Paw Patrol characters. I figured Carson would get a kick out of that. And since he likes puzzles, I picked up a new one so he would have something to do if you need him to be entertained while you sort out stuff. Oh, this needs to go in the fridge. It’s a little Paw Patrol snack pack with cheese and grapes and stuff in it.”
I take it from him when he hands it to me, moved by how sweet it was for him to focus more on Carson being taken care of than me. It’s like he knows if my child is okay, I will be, too.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “He’s going to love all of it.”
Shoving his hands in his front pockets, Paul opens his mouth to say something, but Carson takes that exact moment to race into the room and head straight for our guest.
“Paw! Paw!” he yells and wraps his arms around Paul’s legs for a hug. Without hesitation, Paul picks him up and wraps his arms tightly around Carson’s little body.
“Hey, bud. How are you? Are you being good for mommy?”
Carson pulls away and begins babbling like only he can. “NicNic here and Chase take bad man away.”
Paul looks at me with confusion. “Chase what? Was that an episode of…”
I don’t have to look behind me to know my sister just came into the room. It’s clear by the look on Paul’s face he’s putting everything together—my sudden disappearance, Lauren’s refusal to share information, why our fight is the least of my concerns.
To his credit, he very quickly schools his features and makes no move to touch her. It’s like he’s consciously making sure he doesn’t scare her with sudden movements and noises.
“I assume you’re who this little guy calls NicNic.” Paul presses his fingers into Carson’s tummy, making him squeal with delight, and again I appreciate that he’s pretending to be nonchalant, even though I can see the rage in his eyes.
My sister clears her throat before speaking. She’s been doing that a lot. I assume her throat must be hurting if Jeremy squeezed her neck at all, but I haven’t been brave enough to ask yet.
“That’s me. Most people just call me Nicole, though.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Nicole. Will you be staying with Kiersten for a while?”
The question seems innocent, but I can read between the lines. He wants to make sure she’s out of a bad situation and safe now.
“For as long as she’ll let me.”
We all stand there awkwardly, her words sinking in. There’s not really a response when someone admits their life is in complete limbo and there are no plans for the future. But my sister knows me well, so she jumps in.
“Why don’t Carson and I color for a little bit and you guys can talk in the kitch
en?”
“Color!” Carson yells and wiggles his way out of Paul’s arms and onto the floor. He runs off leaving Paul free to grab the bags and follow me into the kitchen.
“You really didn’t have to do this,” I say as we begin unloading everything he brought.
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure how to help since I didn’t know what was wrong. Now I’m glad I brought food.” He tilts his head toward the living room. “I take it your swift departure was about Nicole?”
I nod sadly. “She called me from the hospital the morning after… well, you know what morning I’m talking about.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what kind of a shock it must have been.”
“I think at first I just went on autopilot. But when I saw her…” I bite my bottom lip. I don’t want to cry again. She’s just in the other room and I won’t let her see me get teary. I can’t. My job is to be her strength. I take a few moments and when I feel stronger, I finish my sentence. “She’s cleaned up now so it doesn’t look as bad as it did. But yes, I have images in my brain I will never forget.”
“What can I do?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m really glad tips are good right now. It’ll make it easier to feed everyone. Mostly, I think she needs time. She startles easily and she’s embarrassed. I kind of want to bring her with me to work for a while so she’s not here alone and afraid, but I don’t know if just being around the guys will scare her.”
“Maybe if Heath talks to them and makes sure everyone leaves her alone, she’ll actually feel more protected with them around.”
I nod because it’s definitely something to think about. I know I’d feel more secure with her at the bar. Logically, it’s unlikely Jeremy will drive all the way out here to find her, but you just never know with guys like him.
“Anyway, if she wants to come with you, I’m okay with that. We can let her hang out in the office or she can even stay at my apartment if she wants.”