From Here to You

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by McGuire, Jamie


  “Just one,” I said, following him to a booth. Jimmy’s was too bright for that time of night, and it reminded me more of a truck stop café than the grandma’s-kitchen feel I’d imagined, but the food smelled amazing. “I’m going to need the server over quick. I’m bringing back food to some friends.”

  “I’ll let Ginny know,” he said, handing me a menu.

  Ginny arrived just a few minutes later. At least they had good service. “I hear you’re in a hurry,” she said with a smile.

  I glanced at the menu one last time. “I’ll have a water, a number six, and two number twos to go, please.”

  The waitress giggled. “That was easy.”

  I nodded, handed her the menu, and she pranced to the kitchen. I sat back, interlacing my fingers and resting them on top of my hair. I’d just cut it again, but unless my head was freshly shaved, the guys were going to give me shit in the morning. In the Marines, I hadn’t kept more than an inch of hair on my head or a few days of scruff on my face. Working for Deep Six Security, I’d grown a long, scraggly beard. A buzz cut and lumberjack beard weren’t standard in the FBI, and with a boss who raged over the smallest things, it was better to blend in.

  The restaurant wasn’t close to capacity, just a few families, a booth occupied by two women celebrating a night away from their families, and a few guys at the bar pretending they were more invested in the game on the flat-screen than in locating a single woman. Being alone was something I’d had to adjust to after being on a team for most of my adult life. Sitting in a booth across from no one was an adjustment, too, but it was better to have no one in front of me than someone who wasn’t her.

  The women in the booth across from mine stole a few glances in my direction. They giggled and took another sip of their truck stop wine, their wedding bands glinting off the fluorescent lighting. I wasn’t sure why married women were so attracted to me. Even my ex didn’t show as much interest until after she married my best friend. Maybe I seemed like the guy who’d be a good time, and easy to walk away from. I frowned, not sure how I felt about that. My career had left me never married and childless at thirty-five. Now I’m here, and she’s right across the street, and I have to act like I haven’t been looking for her my entire adult life.

  In just ten minutes, I had paid for the plastic bag in my hand full of boxed meals and was out the door. The highway would have been easier to cross if I’d walked a quarter mile down the road, but I took the direct route instead, dodging cars and semitrucks barreling along the road at sixty-five miles per hour plus. Being in the middle of a busy highway felt strangely comforting. Focusing on surviving instead of the memories in my head was the reason why I missed being an active Marine every second of the day.

  As soon as the automatic doors opened, dozens of heads glanced in my direction, but no one really paid attention to me until I gave the bag in my hand to Darby. The men in the lobby seemed overly interested in everything she did, and it bugged me.

  I took my boxed food off the top. Tilde smiled. Darby hesitated.

  “They’re both the same. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes and gravy. I hope that’s okay. I didn’t get a text.”

  “Sorry about that, we had a short rush of check-ins. The meatloaf is perfect. Best thing on the menu!” Tilde said, grabbing for the next box. She handed it to Darby and then took one for herself. She sniffed the steam wafting from the food once she opened the lid. “Oh my. I’m salivating.” She opened the plasticware and dug in, closing her eyes.

  “Did I mess up? You don’t like meatloaf?” I asked.

  “I do,” Darby said, staring at the unopened box. “It’s my favorite, actually. Thank you.”

  I was glad there was no longer a line to check in so I had more time to talk to her. “You don’t owe me anything, Darby. It’s just food.”

  “I appreciate it,” she said, her gaze fixed on the Styrofoam lid.

  I leaned in, and she moved back, embarrassed again by her instinct. I wanted to beat the ass of whoever ingrained that in her. She hated it, I could tell.

  “I won’t ever talk to you again if you don’t want me to,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t take me up on the offer. “I just didn’t want you to be hungry. It’s not a ploy to obligate you to me in any way.”

  Tilde stopped eating to watch for Darby’s reaction. Darby still didn’t make eye contact with anything but the food box. I flicked open the lid, and slowly placed a package of plasticware beside it before walking away.

  “Thank you.” Darby’s voice was barely audible over the noise in the lobby, but I heard it, and I smiled.

  Chapter Five

  Darby

  As soon as Trex walked away, I ripped open the plasticware and dug into meat. I didn’t care who was watching, or who thought putting so much on my fork at a time before stuffing it in my mouth was disgusting. Easing the growling that had been rumbling in my stomach for the past three hours was my primary concern.

  As I chewed quickly and took another bite, I considered Trex’s behavior. He was kind and thoughtful, but I wasn’t sure Trex was pursuing me. Most men at least attempted to flirt with me, even some women. I’d never admitted that aloud, but anyone who thought I was bragging hadn’t experienced a forty-plus-year-old making sexual advances toward her at the tender age of twelve. I certainly hadn’t asked for it. But Trex didn’t look at me like a potential target. He simply acknowledged the human in front of him, and that was refreshing.

  “Dear Lord,” Tilde said. “You’re allowed a dinner break, you know. Half an hour. If you were hungry…”

  “I need to go to the grocery store. I have nothing in my room.”

  “There’s a larger fridge in your room. You’ll have plenty of space to put groceries. Well, more than the other rooms.”

  “I can only carry so many bags at a time,” I said, covering my mouth while I chewed.

  “Take a cab. Or I can give you a ride for a while. I’m old as dirt, you know; no telling when they’ll revoke my license.”

  I giggled with my mouth full.

  “Take advantage of the continental breakfast we serve in the mornings. Stavros doesn’t mind.”

  “Thank you,” I said, just before I swallowed. I dove into the mashed potatoes and gravy, humming with delight.

  Tilde took one bite to my three, watching me attack every morsel in the Styrofoam box. When I dabbed my mouth and sat up to heave a satiated sigh, Tilde’s twin chains swooping down from her glasses shook with her head. “I’m not sure what to think, to be honest.”

  “You were right. Lunch wasn’t enough to hold me over. I didn’t realize I’d be working today, or I would have ordered more.”

  “Or you don’t have enough money for food,” Tilde said, dubious.

  “I’m just on a budget,” I said, taking her empty box, and mine, too. The hotshots at the bar stopped talking when I dumped the contents in my hands in the trash and then used Stavros’s sink to wash my hands.

  “Where are you from?” one of them asked. He sat on the stool in front of me, nursing the last half of a blond pint that matched the hair that poked out from his red ball cap, and his scraggly beard. His blue eyes watched me with curiosity more than malintent.

  “South,” I said.

  He smiled, his teeth contrasting against his tanned skin. “What’s your name?”

  “That reminds me. We need to get you a name badge,” Stavros said. “This is Darby. Darby…that’s Zeke and Dalton. They’re the Alpine hotshots out of Estes Park.”

  “Nice to meet you, Zeke. I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work.”

  Stavros called after me. “It’s a shame you’re rushing off. These boys have been dying to talk to you.”

  “Oh,” I said, stopping. I returned, waiting for whatever was next.

  “It’s okay,” Zeke said. “No one said anything that wasn’t nice.”

  “Depends on what your definition is,” I said, forgetting myself for a moment. I was annoyed that Stavros had put me on the spot to
stay, and I tried not to glare at him. By the smirk on his face, I could see he was trying to embarrass the boys more than he was forcing me to be social.

  “Rude, crude, or inappropriate,” Zeke said.

  I smiled, and all eight men sitting at the bar cheered as if I’d just made a touchdown, so loud the noise startled me.

  “Sorry!” Zeke said, holding out his hands and chuckling.

  “They were beginning to wonder if you smiled at all unless it was to greet or say good-bye to a guest,” Stavros said, amused.

  I thought back to my afternoon and evening, wondering if they were right. “I thought you said it was all nice.”

  “They were worried about you, that’s all,” Stavros said. “You’d think these guys were all your big brothers. They’ve been warning the others to be polite for hours.”

  I sucked a tiny gasp through my lips. That was the nicest thing anyone had done for me. “Oh,” I said, my tone more appreciative this time.

  “You let us know if anyone gives you problems. We’ll set ’em straight,” Zeke said.

  Stavros popped the top off a bottle. “Your boss has just informed me it’s last call, boys.”

  The hotshots groaned, but to my surprise, instead of ordering another round, they all paid their checks and headed to their rooms. All except Zeke.

  “How was your first day?” he asked, leaning his elbow against the bar.

  “It was great,” I said, nodding.

  Stavros grinned. “She has to say that. I’m her boss.”

  “Well. You have sweet dreams, Miss Darby.” Zeke tipped his ball cap and joined the others in the elevator bay.

  “You’re going to have to share that magic with me,” Stavros said, wiping down the bar.

  “What magic would that be?” I asked.

  “Whatever makes people fall all over themselves to talk to you, for you to like them, and to protect you.”

  I turned to watch Zeke and his friends step into the elevator.

  “That’s not really a thing…with me. I mostly have to protect myself, and I’m not that good at it.”

  Several seconds passed before Stavros spoke again. “I don’t know what you left, but you don’t have to worry about that anymore. Especially now that they’ve practically adopted you.”

  “That’s sweet,” I said, watching the empty place where they stood.

  “I hope you got a good look. Some of them are leaving at first light, and they don’t always come back.”

  “That’s…awful.” I swallowed. None of them acted like it could be their last night on earth. I suspected if any of them let that thought cross their mind, they wouldn’t do what they do. Shawn thought he was invincible, too. Untouchable. But these guys were nothing like Shawn. He would have never told another man not to speak about a woman—a stranger—in an inappropriate way. He would’ve joined in. I’d heard it.

  I wondered if Shawn’s enormous ego helped him to stop caring when Carly had returned to the church without me and told him I was gone, or if he’d resolved to find me and drag me back. The thought of Shawn looking for me made me shiver, and I tried to push it away as soon as it came.

  “You okay, kiddo?” Stavros asked.

  “Yes.” I looked at my watch. “Looks like it’s quittin’ time for me.”

  Stavros nodded once. “Good work today. Once you’re trained, I’m putting you on nights. Our day guy is covering nights, too. He should be here any minute.”

  “Everyone’s working doubles, huh?”

  “We do what we must. Your schedule is Sunday nights through Thursday. Friday and Saturdays off. Can you handle that?”

  I nodded once. “Absolutely. That’s more than fair. Um…Stavros? If this isn’t okay, I’ll just figure something out. But I was wondering…can I be paid in cash?”

  Stavros arched a dark eyebrow, scanning me before speaking. “How much trouble are you in?”

  A skinny kid walked through the sliding glass doors, straightening his tie, and Stavros’s smile quickly morphed into a frown.

  “You’re late,” Stavros called to him.

  He glanced at his watch. “I’m right on time.”

  “For the hundredth time, Ander. If you’re not—”

  “…early I’m late. Yes, I know.”

  “So, you’re late.”

  He smiled. His jet-black hair, gray eyes, and square chin probably charmed anyone else but Stavros. “I love you bunches, Stavros.”

  Stavros grumbled, watching Ander greet Tilde with a hug.

  “Tilde doesn’t seem to mind,” I said.

  “He can do no wrong in her eyes. Ander is her grandson. Her favorite grandson.”

  “Did she say that? Surely not.”

  “I just know.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Because I’m her other grandson. Ander is my little brother.”

  “Oh,” I said, watching Stavros close the bar.

  As I walked off, he called to me. “You say that a lot. Oh.”

  “I’ll show you how to close down your shift tomorrow,” Tilde said, using her shirt to cover a deep cough.

  “Sounds good, thank you. Good night,” I said, waving.

  Walking down the hall, I hugged my middle. Being in Stavros’s hotel around his family wasn’t home, but I felt more welcome there than anywhere. Making friends in school wasn’t easy for me. I usually rubbed people wrong somehow. Stavros saying I had a magic way of making people like me was the nicest thing anyone had said to me in a long time, even if it wasn’t true. I wasn’t sure why the people here liked me so much, but never being able to please people before, no matter how hard I tried, I appreciated it more than they would ever know.

  An involuntary yawn took over my body as I trudged down the hall, my feet feeling heavier with each step. Once I stepped inside my room, a shower seemed like too much effort, so I collapsed onto the bed. After the second bounce, I wondered if I should do that because of the baby.

  I rolled over, staring at the ceiling. There were things to do, like make a doctor’s appointment. I hated not knowing what was okay and not okay. Until I could figure out how to pay for a doctor, I’d have to find some books. I’d do that in the morning before my next shift, but then what? If I couldn’t afford a doctor, how would I afford a baby? I had no insurance, no savings, and things like the cost of diapers, bottles, clothes, and medicine began to crowd my mind.

  My eyes closed tight, pushing out the forming tears. A deep pain ached in my chest at the thought of giving Bean away to adoptive parents. I wasn’t even sure what kind of mother I would be. Most days, I didn’t recognize myself. I’d given so much of myself away to Shawn in just the year we were together that I wasn’t sure what was left. I remembered that girl, but she was so far out of reach. I had to believe that this was God’s plan. For me to be half beaten to death before I finally left, pregnant and alone, didn’t sound much of a plan, but I didn’t have to understand it. There was something else out there for me, and maybe it was in Colorado Springs.

  If I could go back, I would change everything. Guilt set in as I regretted wishing away the baby growing inside of me. The baby I wasn’t sure how I would feed, or clothe, or…

  I shook my head and covered my face. I have enough on my plate without worrying about things that are the better part of a year away. Stop it, Darby.

  I concentrated on my breath, inhaling in fully, and exhaling, slow and controlled, starting over until my body gave in to the exhaustion. One day at a time. That was the only way to get through this. And I would. I’d gotten through worse.

  * * *

  The alarm bleated four times before I scrambled for the off button and then looked next to me, waiting for Shawn to either roll over and fall back asleep or fly into a rage. He wasn’t there. His bed wasn’t beneath me. I touched my stomach with one hand, my forehead with the other, breathing hard. The relief that washed over me was so intense, I cried. He hadn’t found us yet. We were still safe.

  After the invol
untary shuddering stopped, I let the fear and worry fall away with a sigh. Nothing bad was happening to me—the opposite, actually. Just down the hall was my new job. No one knew me or my past. Bean and I had everything ahead of us.

  I slowly pushed up from the bed and trudged to the window, pulling it open. My view consisted of the heat and air-conditioning units and the maintenance shed, but beyond that was Pikes Peak. I was far away from Shawn and Fort Hood, the heat, the humidity, the fear. My stomach was still flat under my fingertips, but Bean was there somewhere, growing and at peace. A sudden nausea overwhelmed me. My mouth began to water, and bile rose in my throat. I covered my mouth and ran for the bathroom, crouching in front of the toilet and hugging the porcelain, expelling the small amount of meatloaf and mashed potatoes that hadn’t digested. After the last heave, I sat back against the wall, feeling the warm tile on my backside contrast with the cold wall against my back.

  Most of the pregnant women on base were barely eighteen. I would’ve been one of the older wives, certainly the oldest without a child. I’d seen all the symptoms: the morning sickness, the tiredness, the heartburn, the swollen feet. But I was an only child; I had no idea what to do with a baby. The Pikes Peak library was on the same road as the hotel, but at least an hour’s walk one-way. I could get a card and check out some pregnancy books. Maybe even find out my due date and how to get prenatal care with no way to pay. My stomach lurched, and I covered my mouth. Toast first, then a walk to the library.

  I hoped Tilde was right, that Stavros wouldn’t mind me getting a piece of toast from the continental breakfast bar. The front desk was unmanned, and when I rounded the divider that separated the lobby from the dining area, I realized why: The hotshots were swarming the food, and poor Ander was the only one on duty.

  “Need help?” I asked him.

  Ander smiled. “I got it. Are you here for breakfast?”

  I nodded. “Tilde said it was okay.”

  “Of course it’s okay. Help yourself.”

  I couldn’t help the grin stretching wide across my face. “Thank you.”

 

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