Utterances

by Jo Michaels

  As she descended the stairs, she recognized the voice instantly. It wasn’t Tristan’s.

  “Daddy?” she called out, rounding the corner.

  Her father stood, his hands in his pockets. “Hey, baby girl.”

  Lilian left, giving Simone a soft smile and touch on the arm on the way by.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I figured someone needed to come talk with you. We haven’t heard anything for a week, and we were getting worried.”

  “We?”

  “Your mother, Tristan, Waymon, Brandy, and me.”

  Tristan’s name was in there after all. Her heart skipped a beat. “Why are y’all so worried?”

  “Honey, we love you. Your mother and your fiancé might have been out of line, but you know, they were coming from a place of caring.” Clearly uncomfortable in the space, her dad ticked his head to one side and steadied his twitching feet. “Is there, uh, some place we can go talk for a few minutes?”

  “Sure. Let me grab some coffee. Want some?”

  “I’d love some.”

  He followed her to the kitchen and watched while she poured the fresh brew into a couple of large cups, added sugar to one and milk to them both, and then handed him the unsweetened one.

  “You remember how I like my coffee?”

  “Of course I did, Daddy. You did live with me for sixteen years of my life.”

  Lips pressed together, he stared into the cup as he nodded.

  “Let’s go to the front lawn. There’s a bench out there we can sit on.” She led the way through the house to the door and opened it, ushering him forward with a sweep of her free hand.

  Once they were comfortable, he sighed. “Look, your mother loves you, I love you, and that young man of yours is absolutely crazy about you. He was a wreck after you left, ranting at your mother for putting him in the position she did, angry with himself for not defending you when he should have, and he was about to come after you, but she stopped him, said you needed a little time.”

  Simone didn’t respond because she didn’t know how to. It was all clear as the daytime sun in her head. Not once did Tristan act or speak on her behalf, and she’d wondered why at the time, how he could’ve been so damned callous. Just as she was about to open her mouth, her dad continued.

  “He’s been holing up in your room, refusing to eat, refusing to come out until she agrees to let him come after you.” He held up one hand, palm forward. “No, I didn’t tell her I was coming here. Tristan knows, though. He’s the one that gave me the address.”

  “He what?”

  “Like I said, he thinks you need to be told how much you’re loved by us all. That we didn’t mean to come off like we were attacking you. I didn’t even know what was going on until your mother pulled her stunt.” A chuckle had his shoulders shaking. “Waymon gave her a good dressing down, too. He came back the next day, and they went to her room. I could hear them yelling all the way from the living room.”

  She tried to imagine what had been said during that conversation, and her heart swelled with gratitude.

  “When they finally emerged, about an hour later, her eyes were red, and she admitted she was wrong for doing what she did. That didn’t sway Tristan one bit. He still refused to acknowledge her presence.

  “He’s a good person, honey. If he manages to get out from under your mother and get over here, you should hear him out.” One of her dad’s hands found hers and squeezed. “Love like that doesn’t come along every day. He thought he was protecting you. I still don’t know the whole story between you two, but he told me some of it.” He leaned forward. “Is it really a magic book?”

  That question took her completely off guard, and she leaned back, turning her head toward her dad. “He told you about the book?”

  “Yeah, he did, and he told me about that little girl and what you did for her. I’m still having a hard time believing it, but if it’s true, baby girl, I can’t even begin to say how proud I am of you. There aren’t many people in this world, if any, that would even consider doing what you have.”

  She certainly didn’t expect to hear that, and her eyes watered for the billionth time that week. “Oh, Daddy!” Turning to him, she threw her arms around his neck, sloshing coffee all over them both. “I love you. I’m so sorry I said I hated you!”

  “We all say things in the heat of the moment that we don’t mean. I know you love me, sweetheart, and I love you.”

  When she let go, she gasped and tried to wipe the coffee off his shirt. “Sorry. Again.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  They sat in silence for a long while, and she thought about Tristan and how much her heart ached to see him again. A little pickup truck pulling up to the gate had her on her feet in a flash, but she didn’t run to the driveway, she turned toward her father. “Daddy?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know how he got out, but go on.”

  Without waiting another second, she gently dropped her cup on the ground and ran as fast as her legs would carry her, toward the bottom of the drive.

  Tristan pulled in just far enough to be past the gate and stopped, his door open a second later, his feet pounding the earth a moment after that.

  They came together in a clash, arms wrapping around one another, stealing their breath away. He didn’t turn her loose for a long time, and she could feel dampness on her neck where his face was tucked. When they did break, he kissed her, full on the mouth, and held on like she was his life support system.

  Finally, he pulled away and cradled her face in his hands. “I love you, Simone, and I’m so sorry. Your mother is out of control, but I should’ve done more for you. I knew I fucked up the moment I opened my mouth in there. I can’t live without you. You’re my air, my heartbeat, and my very soul. I need your forgiveness, and I’ll do anything to get it.”

  “My dad told me what you’ve done. While I’m not at the point of forgiveness yet, I do accept your apology. I love you, and that doesn’t go away because I will it to.”

  Tears wet both their faces, and he pulled her close again. “I was so scared I’d lost you forever. I know I will eventually, but not like that. Not because I messed up. I was so caught up in my own head that I wasn’t thinking about you or what you wanted.”

  “Guys! Come quick!” Lilian’s voice echoed across the lawn.

  Tristan pinched his brows together and took Simone’s hand. They ran toward the house together, getting there at the same time as her dad. He held the door for them.

  Lilian was standing in the TV room, one hand over her mouth. When they walked in, she pointed to the television.

  Simone stared in horror as a photo of her in the Hannah wig flashed on the screen.

  “If you’ve seen this person, please call your local police station.”

  “What?” she yelled.

  Face white, Lilian turned. “They said you lied to a family and took a bunch of money from them. While the family refuses to talk about it or press charges, the state has taken the matter into their hands and is now working with the doctors on the case. They said there was no proof their treatments for the little girl didn’t work, and that you’re a thief and a liar.” She ran across the room and took Simone’s hands. “Simone! You have to leave! Get out of the state. Run! Now!”

  Unable to remain upright, Simone sank to the floor, everything in the room spinning. They’d been so careful not to be seen, so diligent about putting on the disguises, and it came down to a bunch of doctors wanting to protect their reputations and get credit for something she gave years of her life for. It pissed her off and made her sick to her stomach. She sat there, lost in her anger for a long time until a voice broke through the haze.

  “Simone? Simone?” Lilian was crouched down nearby, one hand pressed to Simone’s forehead. “I think she’s okay, just stunned or something.”

  “I bet she is.” Tristan’s voice. “She sacrificed a lot, and she’s getting nothing but suspicion and anger in retu
rn. Now I understand where she was coming from when she insisted on protections being put in place. At least we were smart about it and gave fake names. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure she’d be in jail right now.”

  Jail! Simone swooned but caught hold of Tristan’s arm and pulled him close. “I need to go, like she said.”

  “I’m coming with you. I brought a bunch of your stuff from your house. Wasn’t sure what you needed, and I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, so I threw it all in a suitcase I found buried in the back of your closet. Looks like it’s from the eighties, but it’s functional.”

  Dad interrupted. “Speaking of, how’d you escape?” He chuckled.

  “She left for the store, and I went out the window.”

  Simone blanched. “She locked you in?”

  “Yeah, she did. First time. She’s so worried about you she’s cracking up.” Tristan ran a hand through his hair.

  “Guys, standing around talking isn’t getting you anywhere,” Lilian said. “I’ll go get my purse. I think I have about three hundred. I know that won’t last long, but it’s all I can do at the moment.”

  “I have two.” Dad moved forward, hand extended.

  Tristan took the wad of bills and stuffed them in his pocket before grabbing the man’s hand and then pulling him into a hug. “Thanks.”

  Everything was moving too fast, and Simone held her hands out to either side. “Stop!”

  All heads turned toward her.

  “We need to think about this for a second before we rush around and make a mistake.” She got to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “I need things like my birth certificate and social security card, so I won’t have an issue no matter where we end up.”

  Tristan grinned. “They’re in the bag in the truck.”

  “Trade cars with me,” Dad said, extending a set of keys. “Mine’s newer, and I’d hate for you to waste money on repairs.”

  For that, he got a tackle-hug from his daughter. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “You’re welcome. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Yeah, thanks Mr. B.” Tristan grabbed the keys and headed outside to do some moving and shuffling around of stuff.

  “Daddy, will you tell Mom that I love her? I’ve been talking to Lilian over the last week, and she said she’d probably do the same thing if it had been her daughter. I wish sometimes Mom would give me a little trust. It kinda hurts, you know?”

  “I will, and I do. I’m sorry I didn’t stick up for you, either. Everything kinda hit me outta the blue.” He grinned.

  “Thank you, again.”

  Lilian bounced back into the room, a huge stack of cash in her hand. “Lookie what I found hiding in my mom’s underwear drawer!”

  Simone’s mouth dropped as she took the bills. They still had the wrapper on them, and it said ten thousand dollars. “Lilian! I can’t take all this!”

  “Sure you can. I’ll tell her I took it and spent it on new clothes. She’ll neither look nor care. After all, why the hell does she have that much cash in the house, anyway? Dumb.” Giving an eye roll, Lilian grinned. “Just take it. Never refuse charity from friends. Say thank you, and let it go.”

  “Thank you!” Overwhelmed, Simone threw her arms around Lilian’s neck, nearly choking her to death before she was released. “You’re the best friend in the world.”

  “Nah, but I’m certainly the richest.” She winked.

  “I better get back before your mother so I can pretend to have let Tristan out. I don’t know what his parents could be thinking right now. You may want to stop over there and tell them what’s going on.” Dad shook his head. “I’ll handle her. Don’t worry.” Then, he looked up and smiled. “Text me, okay, kiddo? Tristan has my number.”

  More love than Simone had felt for the man in years hit her. She grabbed hold of him and squeezed. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too, kiddo.”

  They said goodbye, and he left in Tristan’s truck.

  In a few minutes, Tristan walked back in and smiled. “You ready?”

  She was, and she said bye, with another round of hugging and thanks for her friend, before following him out and getting in the brand-new town car, whistling as she closed the door. “Damn. Daddy has nice digs.”

  “You’re telling me.” Tristan put the car in reverse and turned around.

  “Where we goin’ first?”

  “My house. I need some things, and I need to fill my mom and dad in about what’s happening.”

  Simone couldn’t quite wrap her head around all that was happening. Forgiving Tristan when she was still feeling salty was hard enough, but suddenly, she was running away with him. It was too much, too quickly, and her stomach churned. She wanted to ask him to pull over so she could have a moment, but they were nearly at his house by the time she got up the courage to open her mouth and ask. Seeking solace in the fine hair of horse hide was the only logical solution. No way did she want to be under the microscope of his parents.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said as he cut the engine and opened the door. “Louis seems to know it’s us. Look.”

  Sure enough, the black stallion was at the fence, staring.

  “Go ahead. I’m gonna pet him while you do your thing.”

  Tristan pecked her on the cheek and took off toward the house.

  Louis whickered softly and blew air out of his nose as he watched his master head the wrong direction, probably wondering where the mints were.

  Slowly, she approached him, one hand extended. When her fingers came into contact with his hair, and he didn’t move away or try to bite her, she relaxed. “Hey, boy. Seems like I’ve gotten myself in a bit of a pickle, huh?”

  He didn’t answer, just rolled his dark eyes.

  “I know. I’m feeling pretty dumb. Never in a billion years would I have thought my f—” She slapped her forehead. “Wow. I’m talking to a horse. Forget issues! I have full subscriptions!”

  With a toss of the head, Louis pulled back and started trotting down the fencerow toward the house.

  Her eyes tracked him for a moment, but then they went to the front door as it opened and Tristan came out, two bulging duffle bags over his shoulder.

  There was no indication that he was upset or in a rush, so she smiled at him and headed back to the car.

  “Was Louis a good horse for you?”

  “Yeah. He’s a great listener.” She laughed.

  “I talk to him all the time.”

  They got in and put their seatbelts on, her wondering if they were both a little off their rockers for talking to mute animals like they were other humans or something.

  “What did your parents say?”

  “They didn’t understand it all but told me to call and fill them in once you were safe, and for us to be careful.” He shrugged. “They trust me.”

  What she wanted to say about Tristan and trust, she kept to herself. That was one wound that would take a while to heal. He’d have to give her a ton of proof he wouldn’t do it again. So, rather than be a bitch, she sat back, rested her head on the seat, and closed her eyes.

  “Where ya wanna go?” he asked.

  “Anywhere.” It had all just been decided a few hours before. No way was she in a position to make a suggestion on where was best to hide from the law.

  “Fine. We’ll go south for now.” Putting the car in reverse, he backed up, turned around, and went toward I-75.

  Simone fell asleep, left hand gripping Tristan’s, right hand clutching the straps of her backpack.

  When the car slowed, she woke and wriggled, causing her bladder to scream a demand to be emptied.

  They pulled into a gas station.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “About ten minutes north of Atlanta. I figured we could drive down to Florida, get a motel room, and decide where to go from there. I hear Pensacola is nice.”

  “Want something to eat? I gotta go in and pee anyway.”

  He chuckled. “Nah. I
was thinking we could eat once we’re through the city, but I’m about to die of thirst.” Batting his eyelashes, he pouted. “Could ya do that for me, babycakes?”

  She hated that pet name, and he knew it. It sounded so juvenile. But she played along, using his disliked moniker in return. “Okay, sugarlips. Be right back!” Laughing at the horrified expression on his face, she flipped her hair over her shoulder, spun around, and sauntered into the convenience store.

  They were back on the road in no time, her behind the wheel, two mega-sized Gatorades in the cup holders.

  It took them four hours to get to the south side of Atlanta, and by the time she pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant, her bladder was near bursting again. Thankful for the disguise she’d worn while at the Jones’s house, she lifted her head high as she walked through the doors of the establishment and asked for a table for two and then the restroom.

  A perky waitress showed them where they’d be sitting, set out silverware, and took their drink orders.

  Simone hoofed it to the bathroom.

  Tristan followed, and they parted ways at the doors. When she came back out, he was waiting for her, grin on his face, hands shoved in his pockets. “Feel better?”

  “Hell yes. I was about to pee my pants.” She laughed. “I’m starving!”

  “I could eat.” He gave her a wink and a nudge then took her hand.

  Once they’d scooched into the booth on the same side, she lifted the menu. “Wow. Everything is either fried or swimming in gravy.” Her stomach gave a happy little twirl. “Yum.”

  “Yep. Looks like they have a true Southern chef on staff.” Tristan pointed to one of the plate dinners. “Chicken fried steak with gravy, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green beans in butter sauce.”

  They chuckled under their breath.

  Their waitress came back with cokes and waters and put them on the table before whipping out a pad and pulling the pencil from behind her ear, holding it in position over the paper. “What are y’all havin’ today?”

  “Is the hotdog any good?” Simone asked.

  “Honey, everything’s good. That what you want?”