by Robin Cain
“I don’t know. I guess almost an hour. Thanks for stopping. I’m just heading back into town. Too far to walk in this weather, but the bus was taking forever.”
Sam suddenly remembered something, reached down and began to rummage through her purse. Pulling out a small wad of money, she unrolled two ten-dollar bills and offered them to Tyler. “Here you go, as promised.”
“I didn’t stop to collect my money, Sam. I didn’t actually really ever expect to see you again.”
“Well, thanks,” she laughed. “You helped me out when I was in a total bind and I am paying you back. Please take the money,” she said, extending the bills closer to him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, please. Thanks again.”
Tyler reluctantly took the money and put it on his dashboard. He had a bad habit of leaving money lying around. He liked the convenience of being able to just grab it without having to fumble with his wallet. Turning to look over his shoulder for oncoming traffic, he slowly pulled out into the flow. Sam sat there, exhausted and grateful for the escape from the cold and rain.
“So, you’re waitressing at Ernie’s, huh?”
“Yes. It’s working out okay, but it’s kind of rough in this weather and the buses aren’t very reliable.”
“Where are you living? I mean, where do you need a ride to?”
“I’m staying with a friend for now. Just down the street, off of Washington.”
“That’s a pretty good walk in the cold.” Ernie’s had to be a good five miles from where Sam was staying. Tyler wondered how she managed. “Do you always take the bus?”
“Oh, I walk if it’s nice. Or I catch rides or the bus, of course. It’s okay,” she told him. Traffic had cleared a bit and they were getting closer to her turn. “Up here, to the right. It’s the apartment building on the left, about two blocks down.”
Tyler knew the street and the building. A run-down section of housing, long inhabited by transients and troubled souls, he recalled reading something in the paper about a local developer trying to buy the block, tear down all the buildings and build some kind of new “upscale urban housing” consisting of townhomes. The city was in favor of revamping the whole area as a way to get rid of the transients. Housing and land was at a premium now that the town of Sullivan had grown so much in the past few years. Close to the new downtown area, this particular block was ripe for redevelopment.
Sam began to gather her things as they approached her stop.
“Thanks so much for the ride.”
“Hey, no problem.” He watched her getting ready to leave and realized he wanted to see her again. “Sam? Would you like to go out some time? I mean, have dinner or something?”
Her beautiful hazel eyes locked on him and he felt a stirring deep within. It was one he hadn’t felt in awhile. Reminded of Sadie, he wondered if that would ever stop.
“That would be nice. I’m off work Saturday night if that works for you.”
“That works. How about I pick you up around seven?”
“Tell you what. How bout I meet you somewhere? I’ll be coming from somewhere else and it’ll just be easier.”
“Do you like Greek food? There is a place called Ya Ya’s about two blocks from here, off of Ash.”
“That sounds great. See you then?” Sam asked, opening the door. Tyler realized he had no way to get a hold of her.
“Let me have your number, just in case.”
“I don’t really have a number where you can reach me. How about you give me yours and I’ll give you a call that day to make sure we’re still on?”
“Here’s one of my cards,” Tyler told her, grabbing one off his dashboard. He handed it to her and held onto the card a second longer than necessary. He was trying to make her smile again. Sam took the card and tucked it in the folds of her purse. The moment passed, leaving Tyler to feel a bit awkward.
“Thanks again for the ride.”
“No worries. Talk to you on Saturday?”
Sam nodded and climbed out of his truck. He watched as she walked away and thoughts of Sadie flooded his brain.
Damn you, Sadie! Will there ever be a day when I can look at another woman and not think of you?
With the all-too-familiar ache in his heart, Tyler headed his truck back home.
sixteen
THE NEXT TWO DAYS kept Tyler very busy. Trying to be in six places at once, his days never seemed to get any easier. He was making more money than he ever had but found he didn’t have any time to enjoy it. The day off he had scheduled hadn’t panned out and here he was working on a Saturday.
One of his new guys had been nailing wall joists at uneven intervals, not following the plan calling for sixteen inches on center. One of Tyler’s other guys had caught him before he had gotten too far and called Tyler at home. Whether he wasn’t paying attention or just trying to get the job done more quickly was unclear, but the kid obviously didn’t realize how serious Tyler was about doing things right the first time. After being told he had to rip out every board and do it over, the kid had rolled his eyes in disgust, acting like it was the stupidest suggestion he’d ever heard. Tyler’s reputation depended on the quality of his work; shoddy couldn’t be a part of it. If not caught in time, this kid’s carelessness would have posed major problems when it came time for plumbing and electrical knockouts. He’ll learn, Tyler thought, even if I have to make him do it over five times.
On Saturday afternoon, he was re-inspecting the rookie’s work when his cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Sam.”
“Hey, hello. We still on for tonight?”
“Yes, if you’d still like.” He detected a slight uncertainty in her tone.
“Of course. Something wrong?”
“No, just thought you might have changed your mind.”
“No reason to. Still want to meet at Ya Ya’s at seven?”
“Sounds great. See you then.” The connection went dead before he could reply.
He closed his cell phone and the familiar twinge of loneliness that ached inside him reminded him of Sadie. He turned to re-address his rookie’s work.
“Now that is better,” Tyler told him. “See how this is all going to fit at the end now?”
Tyler grabbed additional boards to help the kid and became engrossed with the job at hand, quickly forgetting his heavy heart. Work did that for him. “Just get her done” was his motto.
Across town, Sam was pacing in circles around the dingy apartment she called home. A friend of a friend had given Sam the name of someone whose place she could stay when she got to town. Leary but desperate, Sam followed the directions to this Debbie girl’s apartment, hoping she would have a bed for the night. Having already gotten the heads-up from her friend and having just lost her previous roommate, Debbie let her stay. Sam had now been there for a few weeks, with Debbie only asking for a few bucks every now and then. Sam’s new job at Ernie’s was paying pretty well, allowing this arrangement to work for now. But she had plans to get out on her own as soon as she could afford it.
Nearly windowless, the apartment faced an abandoned old building adorned with vividly colored graffiti. The whole place just depressed the hell out of her. Threadbare carpet led up to worn, rotting, yellowed linoleum in a tiny, outdated kitchen that smelled of old grease and years of cigarette smoke. The words dank, foul and smelly came to mind the first time Sam had seen it. It certainly wouldn’t have been her first choice but it was her only choice for now. Since she had fled New York and her wretched excuse for a life, Sam had learned that nothing could be taken for granted. A roof over her head and a relatively safe place to stay would have to suffice.
As Sam walked the floor of the apartment, she realized how nervous she was about her date with Tyler. He seemed too good to be true, what with giving twenty bucks and a ride to a complete stranger and all. Quite unaccustomed to kindness, Sam couldn’t help but doubt its sincerity. She had been a victim of make-believe for a very long time. To
o long. She shuddered from the memory, trying to convince herself that Tyler was probably just a nice guy.
She foraged through her small pile of clothes on the floor. With no dresser and little storage in the apartment, she had piled things as neatly as she could in one corner of the room. Finding something that would look nice enough for dinner was going to be a challenge. She didn’t own a whole lot of anything nice and the thought of trying to impress Tyler weighed heavily on her. She eventually decided on the only pair of clean jeans in the pile and one of the few sweaters she owned that didn’t have holes. It would have to do. She went into the tiny bathroom she shared with Debbie, cursed the lack of hot water in the apartment and mentally prepared herself to suffer through what was sure to be a very cold shower.
At about ten minutes before seven, Tyler pulled into the parking lot of Ya Ya’s. A small, family-owned, Greek restaurant, it was one of his favorites. A couple named Dave and Laurie owned the place. Married for more than thirty years with two grown kids and several grandchildren in another state, they devoted their days and nights to living and breathing the restaurant business. Tyler couldn’t remember a time they both weren’t working.
They always treated him like a special guest and were likely responsible for his extra ten pounds. Dave and Laurie came from a long line of Greeks who loved to cook and eat and they served up some of the finest Greek food Tyler had ever eaten. Tyler hoped Sam liked it. He had picked this place because it felt like home to him. Laurie was constantly fawning over him, always insisting he eat a great deal more than he had ordered. She meant well. With her own children grown and moved away, Laurie seemed in need of another boy to mother. Tyler was okay with that.
Tyler climbed out of his truck, re-tucked his shirt and checked his fresh haircut in the rearview mirror. Anxiety festered in his belly as he walked to the restaurant and opened the front door. When the familiar aromas of Greek comfort food greeted him, he remembered he hadn’t eaten in what were way too many hours. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dimly lit dining room and he spotted Dave and Laurie busy working again in the kitchen. A young, brunette hostess greeted him.
“Hi, a reservation for two for Tyler,” he told her.
“Yes, I have it right here. Would you like to be seated or do you want to wait for the other one in your party?” she politely asked him. Tyler felt a rush of the night air behind him as the door opened and Sam walked in.
“Good timing,” he said, turning to greet her.
“Oh, hi. Thanks.”
The hostess grabbed two menus and gestured for them to follow her to a table. Noting Sam’s fitted jeans and tight red sweater, Tyler was tempted by her slim legs and small waist. The flat shoes she was wearing accentuated her small build. If it hadn’t been for her curves, she would have looked like an adolescent. It dawned on Tyler he didn’t know her age.
The booth the hostess offered was tucked into a back corner of the restaurant and provided their best shot at privacy. Tyler guessed Dave and Laurie had something to do with its selection. Sam and Tyler settled into seats across from each other.
“Can I bring either of you something to drink?” the hostess asked.
“Diet Coke for me,” Sam replied.
Tyler wondered if she didn’t drink or if she just wasn’t old enough. “Regular Coke for me, please.”
The hostess nodded and left Sam and Tyler alone. They exchanged awkward smiles.
“You look very nice tonight.”
“Thanks. You do, too.”
He noticed for the first time that her eyes had a hint of gold.
“I hope you like Greek food. This place is the best.”
“I have never actually had Greek food,” Sam said. “I’m hoping you can tell me what is good and what I should order.”
“Well, you are in for a treat,” Tyler announced. He opened the menu unnecessarily, pulling himself away from the spell of her mesmerizing eyes. “Why don’t we share the Sampler Platter? It’s a little bit of everything. That way if you don’t like something, you’re off the hook.” Sam agreed just as the waitress approached with their drinks.
“Hey, Tyler, how are you, darlin’? I saw that you were coming in tonight.” She looked at Sam and smiled warmly. Tyler made the introductions.
“Jean, this is Samantha. Sam, this is Jean, the best waitress in the place—and maybe even the best waitress in the world.” Tyler winked at Jean to solicit a giggle.
“Samantha, it’s so nice to meet you. ‘Bout darn time Tyler brought a girl in for us to meet,” Jean teased, reaching over to pinch Tyler’s arm. Fifty-nine and a waitress nearly her entire life, Jean was a professional if ever there was one. Always making the effort to get to know all her regular customers, she often made it her business to pry into their private lives. She possessed a hundred-watt smile that created multiple chins above her amply endowed bosom. One of those eternally happy women, Jean believed grumpy was just a waste of a day. One couldn’t help but like her and Tyler was no exception.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Sam replied.
“Do you mind if we order right away, Sam? I’m starving.”
Sam gave Tyler the thumbs-up.
Jean took their order and winked. “I’ll be back in a jiff.”
Without the presence of Jean and her joviality, the booth got suddenly quiet. In an attempt to fill what struck him as an uncomfortable silence, Tyler asked Sam how her day had been.
Sam began to regale Tyler with stories of the directional and geographical challenges she had faced while trying to make her way around town. Animated when she spoke, Sam’s eyes literally sparkled. Her frustration with having taken wrong buses, her long waits and offices closing before she arrived was not really funny, but he found himself laughing nonetheless. He had originally guessed Sam was in her mid-twenties, but he picked up clues to her age as she spoke and now believed she was likely younger.
“What’s wrong? You’re acting distracted?”
“Nothing,” he assured her, not quite ready to address the age issue. “I was just wondering how you wound up here and how we wound up running into each other like we did. What was going on with you that day?”
Tyler kept prodding and promising not to judge and finally got Sam to open up and talk. Sam’s new roommate hadn’t proven to be much of a friend and, since arriving in town, she had yet to get to know anyone else very well so, by default, Tyler was now her only and closest friend.
Sam proceeded, cautiously and tentatively, seeming to gauge his reaction from time to time. Tyler kept listening as Sam spent the next couple hours over dinner telling him all about her life on the streets.
Tyler had sensed distrust and sadness in her the very first time he had looked at her, so he wasn’t that surprised by her story. Although Sam’s eyes held a lifetime of pain, Tyler learned she was just twenty years old. She had been abandoned by a drug-ravaged mother at ten years of age and raised by an abusive, alcoholic grandmother until Sam finally left what was never really a home when she was seventeen. She’d taken money her grandmother had hidden in the back of a drawer, left and never looked back. Friends and people she met along the way gave her places to stay and Sam quickly learned how to fend for herself. She adjusted.
Eating meals at local soup kitchens and wearing clothes taken from donation drop-off containers, Sam got by on very little. She eventually hooked up with a homeless group of kids hanging out in one of the local parks and they taught her how to shoplift. The group would enter a store and, using distraction as a tool, they would keep the clerk busy while one or more of them “shopped.” They’d eventually always get kicked out of the store, but not before a few of them had taken enough to make it worthwhile. They would regroup back in the park and divvy out the bounty. Food or stuff to re-sell was the goal. Sam hated it, but she hated starving worse. When times got tougher, she was forced to part with the only thing she had left.
Sam had shared living quarters with her mother’s and then her grandmother’s endless cycle o
f boyfriends, so she was no stranger to the desires of men. The bartering routines of old men were the few kindnesses she knew in her young life. Given candy or a few dollars in trade, she learned to play the “touching game.” When she began starving on the streets, she soon discovered the rules of the game hadn’t changed much. Neither proud nor apologetic, Sam did what she had to survive.
Sam explained to Tyler that she always tried to be cautious with hook-ups and sought those with a veneer of kindness, at the very least. If that was in short supply, her very minimum requirement was cleanliness. There were too many people sharing needles, sharing bodies and, consequently, sharing disease and she didn’t want to end up like that. The guys usually didn’t mind when she insisted on doing things her way and using condoms. Being young and pretty, she was a real turn-on to most guys she met and what she lacked in experience she made up for with a virgin-like appeal. That alone usually inspired them to meet her price.
When Sam had saved just enough money to get some decent clothes and bus fare out of the city, she left town. It was only a few weeks after her twentieth birthday.
Sam had chosen a town in the Northwest because it had looked pretty in a magazine picture she remembered once seeing. She figured she had enough money to get by for awhile, at least until she could get some kind of job—maybe waitressing—and go from there. Being on her feet had to be better than being on her back, she told him.
Sam kept talking while occasionally taking small bites of her food and Tyler didn’t offer a great deal of commentary. She spoke, matter-of-factly, with no sense of embarrassment or apologies. It seemed she was daring him to accept her truths.
“So how long have you actually been in town?” Tyler asked. He wasn’t exactly sure how far he wanted to delve. A bit troubled by her situation, he didn’t figure her for a nut case despite all he’d heard.
“I’d only been here a couple weeks when I ran into you at Starbucks,” Sam said, taking the last bite of her meal. Tyler had long since finished.