Still Air

by Freya Barker

  “Hey,” I soothe, as I pull her close, tucking her head in my neck. “I hear you... I get it.” I press a kiss to the short hair on her head. “You make a good point, and I’m enough of a man to concede to that.”

  “You’re enough of a man, period,” she says, tilting her head back, the sadness still in her eyes, but a smile forming on her lips.

  “And you, are a bit of a wiseass, you know that?” I tease, rubbing my nose against hers.

  “I am. But you love me anyway.”

  “That I do, Biscuit. That I do.”

  Pam pushes off me with a deep sigh.

  “Damn, that name makes me hungry. So now that I’ve made you see reason, do you think you could feed me? I’m losing delicious inches off my ass standing here,” she says, slapping herself on the butt. I chuckle at her antics. There she is.

  “Can’t have that,” I insist, grabbing her by the shoulders, turning her around, and marching her straight down the hallway to the large dining table, where only two chairs remain open.

  “I’m starving,” Pam says, as I shove her chair closer to the table. “I could eat the ass of a rhinoceros.” A silence falls over the table as everyone turns to look at Pam, until Ike pipes up, a grin on his face.

  “I know it looks like Syd cooked every food known to mankind, but I’m pretty sure the butcher was out of rhino ass.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Pam

  “Happy New Year!”

  Maria is in the kitchen at Florence House, emptying the dishwasher. She rushes over, a big smile on her face and gives me a big, and very unexpected, hug.

  “Same you to, girl. What has you in such a chipper mood?” The once mentally defeated girl looks like she’s done a one-eighty in the past few weeks.

  “I got a job!” she squeals, clapping her hands and her enthusiasm easily sweeps me along.

  “You’re shitting me. Where?” I smile back equally big.

  “Bean There, the coffee shop on the corner. Seven till two, Monday to Friday, Saturdays and Sundays off, for now.”

  “That’s fantastic! I’m so happy for you. How did that come about?” I pull out a chair at the kitchen table and sit down, gesturing for her to do the same.

  “Marianne and I went for a walk yesterday and there was a sign in the window. She bugged me all night to go back there today, when they were open. The woman who owns the place is so nice. Said she’d seen me around before. Then she had me work this big-ass expresso machine to make a...”

  “Espresso,” I correct her, unable to stop myself.

  “Sorry?” Obviously I’ve confused her and I instantly feel bad.

  “It’s es-presso not ex-presso. But go on,” I encourage her.

  “Anyway,” she says, the smile back on her face. “She had me make a latte, a caramel macchiato, and a cappuccino. I didn’t like the last one, but I loved the macchiato.” I successfully hold back a chuckle when her eyes close dramatically on the word loved.

  I have to give it to Marianne, she took this girl under her wing just a few short weeks ago, and the change is amazing. She’s more animated and she’s smiled more in the last ten minutes than I’ve seen her smile in the months since she first came here.

  Ditto for Marianne, actually. I’m not sure what draws these fundamentally different women from opposite walks of life to each other, but something does, and the result is magical. A good lesson never to judge a book by its cover.

  “I’m proud of you, honey,” I tell Maria who, if possible, beams even brighter.

  “Did you tell her?” I turn around at the sound of Marianne’s voice.

  “She did,” I answer for her before turning back to Maria. “So when do you start?”

  “Next Monday. I can’t wait.”

  “Go get your coat,” Marianne interjects. “We’re gonna miss the bus otherwise.” With a loud scrape over the kitchen floor Maria shoves her chair back and rushes out of the kitchen. Marianne turns to me. “We’re going shopping. She needs a few new clothes.”

  I automatically pull my wallet out of my purse, and take a few bills out, when Marianne’s hand lands on my wrist.

  “What the heck do you think you’re doing?” she hisses, an incredulous look on her face.

  “You said she needs clothes.”

  “Yes, I did—and I’m paying for them.” I almost chuckle when she determinedly folds her arms under her chest. A challenge if I’ve ever seen one.

  “Don’t get mad, but you came here with the clothes on your back. How will you be able to pay for it?” I ask. A valid question, I think. Marianne’s eye’s twinkle when she answers me.

  “My clothes, and the forty thousand dollars from Fred’s safe he didn’t think I had the combination to.”

  To say I’m shocked would be an understatement. Floored is more appropriate. Mousy little Marianne is an endless source of amazement. If our lawyers hadn’t already made sure there is a restraining order in place, this would be the time where I would drag her straight to the police station to put one in place. Abusers seek power, and not only had Marianne undercut her husband’s control of thirty years by finally walking away—she’d added insult to injury by stealing his stash.

  “You know you were playing with fire, doing that,” I offer, but Marianne just shrugs her narrow shoulders.

  “I didn’t take anymore than what I brought into the marriage. I inherited that money when my mother passed away, two months before I married Fred, who immediately confiscated it. He’s lucky I didn’t grab the remaining eighty thousand he had in there.”

  “Holy shit. I guess so,” I blurt out, trying to get my mind around the fact these people were apparently so loaded they had over one hundred grand in cash, sitting in a safe in their house. Dayum. “So why didn’t you use it to get out of here?”

  She sits down across from me at the table and plays with the salt and pepper shakers while she seems to think about that.

  “It’s all I have. I thought it would be enough to get a new start, maybe buy a house, but things are so much more expensive than I realized. Fred paid all the bills, I didn’t even have access to a bank account anymore. He just gave me a weekly allowance.”

  I reach over, put my hand on hers, and give it a squeeze. “Those days are over. And for your information, forty grand is still a nice chunk of change. It’s enough for a down payment on a small place and maybe some furniture.” .

  “Yeah?” She lifts her head and meets my eyes. “You think? But what about a mortgage? I’ll need to find work, and frankly, I wouldn’t know where to start. I haven’t worked outside of the house for over thirty years. I have no qualifications.”

  Suddenly the pieces fall together. The random thoughts, secret worries, and furtive hopes all fall into line.

  “That’s not exactly true,” I disagree, a huge grin almost splitting my face. “You have a talent. One that is proving to be invaluable.” When she looks at me quizzically, I clarify. “Maria—in a short period of time you’ve done wonders with her. I know you have no official training, but there is nothing saying we can’t give you in-house training. On the job training.”

  Marianne just sits there with her mouth wide open when her much younger sidekick comes skipping in.

  “What’s wrong?” she worriedly asks Marianne, who slowly closes her mouth only to smile wide.

  “Looks like we’ll both be shopping for some work clothes.” Now it’s Maria’s turn to look confused, but Marianne doesn’t explain, she gets up and starts herding the younger woman into the hallway.

  “Hang on!” I call out, fishing through my purse. “Here, take my car.” I dangle the keys briefly in my hand before tossing them in Marianne’s direction. She surprises me yet again when she deftly snatches them out of the air, and with a saucy wink, turns on her heels and follows Maria out of the kitchen.

  Dino

  Thank God I have today off.

  The kids are back in school, as of this morning, and I’ve been on the phone with my lawyer and D
etective Barnes. According to my lawyer, it wouldn’t take too much to change the application for divorce. But since he was due in court, and would be stuck there for the foreseeable future, he suggested I chase down the necessary paperwork myself.

  I quickly check the clock. If I want to be home to catch the kids off the bus, I’d better get going.

  We haven’t had any snow since New Year’s Eve, and even though the temperatures have remained cold enough to keep the snow from melting, the streets are mostly clear now. The drive to the police station takes no time at all, and when I walk into the building and up to the front desk, Barnes happens to be standing there.

  “Mr. Brachio,” he says, holding a hand out I grab firmly to shake. “Why don’t you come back to my office.”

  Said office is little more than a cubicle with four walls, a small window, and a door.

  “Have a seat.” I do as he says. “It’s funny you called this morning,” he informs me. “I just received information this morning that the case against Christian Neve, will be tried separately from the other two boys. Neve is not only slapped with assault and rape charges, but he has some other charges pending, as well. Since the other boys were not yet eighteen at the time, he will also be charged with the corruption of a minor. Now because of that, there is a chance your son may have to testify twice, although the likelihood is great that the two other kids will plead out.”

  I don’t know why I lulled myself into thinking that with the start of the new year, we’d leave the old one behind. It never quite works that way. I’m not an idiot, I knew Jonas, and probably even Pam, would likely have to testify at some point this year. I’m just not quite ready to deal with it only days in.

  “Plead out?” I repeat, trying to process this wake up call.

  “Depending on the outcome of Mr. Neve’s trial, in particular on the ‘corruption of a minor’ charge, those two might be able to plead to a lesser offense.”

  “A lesser offense? They put my son in the hospital, attacked my girlfriend. There was no coercion. No corruption of a minor. They’re two spoiled, entitled, rich kids, who thought it would be a good idea to intimidate witnesses with physical violence.” My temper is getting the better of me at the thought of those two punks walking away scot-free, because of daddy’s deep pockets. We’ve seen it all too many times in the news recently; money over justice.

  “I hear you,” Barnes says, his teeth gritting. “Trust me, I hear you loud and clear. Don’t think it’s not as frustrating for us, busting our asses to bring these kids to justice, only to have them walk away with no more than a slap on their wrist.” He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end, the strain of the job showing in his features. “Look—depending on the outcome—there is always the possibility of a civil suit. The burden of proof is not quite to the level of a criminal trial, and at best, you would only end up with some financial compensation, but should it come to that, it’s a way to maybe get some justice. For now though, they will remain behind bars until their trial.”

  It’ll be a long four months until Neve’s day in court in April.

  I almost forgot what I came in here for, when the detective opens up a file folder on his desk.

  “These are the arrest report and the judge’s order issued to have Ms. Brachio transported to a treatment facility. I took the liberty of checking in with the facility after you called, and they have not seen her in weeks. She clearly hasn’t returned.”

  “That’s not really a surprise,” I inform him when he hands me the folder. “She called me before Christmas, looking for money. I didn’t give her any—clearly—but tried to get her to go back. I haven’t heard from her since.” I stand up and look at the file in my hand. “Anyway—thanks for this. I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know if anything changes.”

  “Sure thing.” Barnes leads me out of his office and walks me back to the front desk. Another handshake and I’m off to the lawyer’s office, feeling a lot less upbeat than I did this morning.

  -

  “I’m looking for an older small pickup or car. In good shape, with a bit of life left.”

  I’m spending the last few minutes before the kids get home calling around.

  When I got to my lawyer’s office, he’d just come back from court. I left the file with him and he promised he’d have the appropriate paperwork done up before the end of the week. Given that no one knows where Jeannie is right now, and she is disregarding a court order, he said no judge would have a problem granting the divorce and temporary custody.

  That visit left me feeling a bit more optimistic, but it also brought home how preciously short time is. Jeannie is missing out on so much, and before you know it, the kids will be gone. Jonas will already be eighteen in a few months and going off to college not long after. That got me thinking that maybe it was time to give him a little more independence.

  “Do you have a price point?” Ike wants to know.

  I called him, because he knows his cars. Something that’s never really had my interest. As long as it has four wheels, plenty of room for my big body, and is able to get me from A to B, I don’t much care what it is I’m driving.

  “I don’t have a lot, can probably get my hands on three grand, max. Can you do anything with that?”

  “I might,” he says pensively. “Actually, I have an idea that might benefit us both. I’ve been trying to get Viv to let me buy her a small SUV since Francessca was born. Getting the car seat in the back of her car is a pain in the ass, since it’s only a two-door, but she’s stubborn. It’s a great little starter car, and I bet if I told her it would go to Jonas, it would make it a shitload easier for her to let it go. Everyone benefits.” He chuckles, obviously pleased with himself.

  “You’re a manipulative bastard, you know that?” I tell him, and it only makes him laugh harder.

  “Well, hell yeah—I’ve had to be, how else do you think I managed to get this woman to marry me?”

  “Good point,” I concede with a smile of my own.

  “Leave it with me, I’ll have a talk with Viv. It’s her car, so she’ll have to come up with a fair price, but I’m pretty sure she won’t be charging three grand—not if it’s for Jonas.”

  When I hang up, it’s with a lingering smile on my face.

  Five more minutes until the kids get in and I suddenly feel the need to hear Pam’s voice. I quickly dial her number.

  “I miss you,” I spill when I hear the call answered, before she has a chance to say hello. She left this morning, right after the kids got on the bus. She was planning to go to her own place tonight, joked that she may already have forgotten her own address.

  I know her grief is still very fresh and that she sometimes needs to feel it. The best place for that is at her own house where there are no distractions, only her memories, but fuck, I much prefer her right here where I can make sure she’s okay. That, and I love waking up to her in the morning. If I’m completely honest, it’s in large part because she seems to enjoy morning sex as much as I do. But also because it feels right. She feels right; in my house, with my kids, it feels easy.

  “Nice to know,” a voice I can’t place responds, startling me from my thoughts. “But I’m thinking you didn’t mean me?” Amusement is evident in the woman’s voice.

  “Only if you’re a smart-assed, tall, buxom, beautiful, ebony queen by the name of Pam,” I fire back.

  “Ahhhh—that would be a no. There’s no way my skinny, five foot three, blindingly white ass could pass for that. You’ve got Doris.” She finally introduces herself as I snicker at her cheek.

  “Doris, nice to meet you. I’m Dino and I’m looking for Pam.”

  “Doris and Dino? Hell no, that would never have worked. It sounds like a Cartoon Network show. Let me get...oops, here she is.” I hear rustling as the phone apparently changes hands, and then Pam’s rich husky voice comes over the line.

  “Hello?”

  “Biscuit, I’ve gotta say, you have a way of surroundi
ng yourself with arguably the most entertaining chicks I know.”

  “Are you calling Marianne a chick, too? Damn, she’ll be tickled pink when she hears that.” Pam is feeling good, I can tell by the lift in her voice.

  “I may have told your Doris I missed her,” I confess. “I meant it for you.” A deep chortle comes over the line.

  “I miss you too, honey. And I’m sure Doris appreciates the sentiment. How’s your day?”

  I haven’t told Pam yet about my plans to fast track my divorce. I don’t want her to think I feel obligated for her sake. I don’t. Not entirely. For the most part I’m just ready to tie off loose ends and find some stability. Hopefully with Pam.

  “It was good. What about yours?”

  “I’ve had a surprisingly productive day, with a few interesting developments,” she says, piquing my interest.

  “Care to share?” I prompt.

  “I would, but I think I’d rather wait till I see you. What I can tell you, is that there’s some change coming.”

  “Tease,” I return. “I’d keep my bit of news to myself just to spite you, but I suck at secrets. The kids’ll be home soon so I have to be fast, but just spoke with Ike. He’s helping me get a car for Jonas.”

  “That kid’s gonna be beside himself; he’ll be happier than a pup with two tails. That’s great, Dino. I’m happy you’re showing him a little trust.”

  I never really considered that, but I guess I am. Maybe it’s time for me to prove myself to him instead of the other way around. Show him a little faith.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Pam

  “Do you want me to stay home?”

  I can barely hear Dino through my tears. I’m not sure what happened, but waking up this morning I felt a strong wave of sadness.

  He’d come over on Wednesday night after work and had been excited to hear about my plans to hire Marianne on. He just nodded, with a knowing smile on his face, when I’d told him I thought I was ready for some more time to enjoy life. Ironic how his keen insight once seemed like a threat to me, but now feels like the warmest acceptance.