by Freya Barker
Pam has helped me talk through some of it after I sat down with her and rehashed everything that happened. She pointed out that perhaps it wasn’t disgust and rejection I saw in his initial reaction to my past, but shock or even anger at what happened to me. But when after a couple of days of silence, Tim didn’t show up for his regular Wednesday night, I started to doubt again. His parting words had planted a seed of hope. They’d seemed genuine. The more time passed, though, the more I wondered if it was just too much for him to overcome my history. God knows, I wouldn’t blame him if it was.
Yesterday had been the second Wednesday Tim had not been in, and I came to Pam looking for some wisdom.
“Not in almost two weeks,” I confirm.
Pam is quiet for a bit. Thoughtful. “What does Ike say? Have you talked to him about it? Has he seen him?”
“No,” I admit. I wanted to, but every time I tried to approach him, or even Viv, I’d stop myself from asking about Tim. Part of me is afraid to find out that they do know—that they’ve seen or spoken to him. That it’s me specifically he’s staying away from. Maybe he regretted walking me home that night—regrets the kissing—and is now just avoiding me. I shake my head, driving myself nuts with all these confusing thoughts and feelings.
“Hmmm,” Pam hums, her long index finger tapping her chin and her dark eyes seeing right through me. “Knowing you, I’m guessing you worry this has to do with you—him disappearing like that—but have you considered that maybe the fact the man has just seen his twenty-year career go down the drain and he needs to regroup? Maybe he’s gone off somewhere on his own, to work out how he can recover from this. What he wants to do with the rest of his life. For a man his age, losing a job can mean losing his identity and can be a pretty big blow to the system. Men have a tendency to have singular focus. They prioritize issues and tackle them one by one. As women, we can’t seem to avoid looking at everything as being connected. Always with the big picture in mind.” Pam pushes back from the table and grabs the coffee pot from the counter, holding it up for me to see.
“Yes, please,” I answer her unvoiced question of more coffee, while thinking to myself how ironic it is for someone who’s spent most of her life in the company of men, I have so little understanding.
“Tim has had two major changes in his life, in a matter of days: losing his job and discovering all that is you,” Pam says with a soft look in her eyes when she sees me flinch. “He likely wants to figure out one before he feels he can pursue the other.”
Huh. I hadn’t really thought of it that way. “I guess it’s possible,” I admit, watching a smile stretch over Pam’s face. I feel a little lighter myself.
“How about his brother? Mark, right? “
An involuntary shiver runs down my spine. I’m actually surprised he hasn’t shown up since that night. Him being a cop, even one who’s technically not active, I fully expected he would’ve come knocking by now. It’s unnerving to have that hanging over my head. More than once, I’ve been tempted to pack up and run, but for the first time in my life, I’m starting to feel a sense of belonging. The thought of leaving these people, who’ve shown nothing but kindness and unexpected acceptance, makes me sick to my stomach.
“Not a sign,” I sadly tell Pam.
“Have you ever thought about approaching him?” My eyes shoot up to find Pam calmly meeting my glare.
“No! Of course not.” To which she simply shrugs her shoulders.
“Oh, I don’t know. If he intended to drag you in by the hair, I figure he would’ve done it by now. Might not be a bad idea.”
I shake my head forcefully. “I can’t take that chance.”
“What then, Ruby? Live in the shadows the rest of your life? Wondering when the sky is going to fall on you? That’s no way to live.”
I take in her serious face and consider her words, but the risk I’d be taking is so much bigger than she even knows. “It’d be no different from the past thirty years of my life,” I finally say. “It’s all I know.”
-
The rest of the day, after leaving Florence House, and all during my shift at The Skipper, which is surprisingly busy the day after Christmas, her words loop around in my head.
“Hang on, Ruby,” Matt says, when I get ready to go home. The guys haven’t let me walk home alone once. Even Gunnar, since coming back to work this past weekend, has taken a few turns. I think one of the others filled him in on what went on during his absence, because he’d called me into his office the day after he came back. I was prepared to be shown the door, but to my surprise he said he just wanted to assure me that nothing had changed. But everything had. Where before I simply went about my work and managed to keep myself mostly unnoticed, now I seem to be the focus of everyone’s attention. Making sure I’m okay, asking if I need anything, walking me home in the dark. Caring about me. The weight of guilt is building on my shoulders, because I don’t deserve any of it.
That’s why I turn to Matt and easily wave him off. “I’m good, Matt. Thanks for the offer.” Without waiting for a response, I step out the backdoor into the alley.
The wind is frigid, blowing in from the water and roaring in my ears. My breath forms clouds in the cold air, as I duck my head and pull my coat tightly around me. I try to keep my focus on the light in the parking lot ahead, refusing to think about the shadows I’m passing. Still, a sense of relief hits when I step from the cobblestones onto the asphalt, where the streetlamp brightly lights my path.
My keys ready in my hand, I close the last few steps to the door, when a sudden shift in the air raises the hair on my neck.
“Ruby?”
The keys clatter to the ground and my knees buckle at the sound of that familiar voice.
CHAPTER TEN
Tim
“Jesus, you look like shit,” Ike points out when I walk into the diner. “Sit your ass down. Have you even slept this past week? Oh, and Merry Christmas by the way.”
God it had sucked. Lying in bed, wide-eyed, and then when sleep finally would come; I managed only a few hours at a time. The days were fucking long, longer than I knew what to do with. Especially now that my lawyer had confirmed what I already suspected, any kind of recourse against the city for wrongful dismissal would at best net me fifty cents to the dollar. At best. Worst case scenario was that that bitch Brenda would press charges anyway. That’d look good on my resume: sexual harassment.
I’ve run the gamut of emotions. Been angry enough to punch holes in my walls, and break a few things, but most of the time I’ve just been staring into space. Then I somehow always end up with Ruby on my mind. I can’t stop thinking about her taste or the innocent way she responded to my kiss. How a former hooker can be innocent, I don’t know, but she is. I’ve avoided her and The Skipper since that night. I don’t think I have the stomach for sympathetic questions or even glances. Yesterday I even lied to my parents, telling them I wasn’t feeling well and was sorry I’d miss Christmas but would try and stop in soon. Of course, Mom had ended up on my doorstep with food and presents, making me feel like the lying fraud I am. Especially when I saw the disappointment on her face, as I basically took the stuff from her at the door, without letting her come in. I’ve been living like a pig for over a week. No need for her to see that, it would only worry her more. The sad look on her face, as she turned away from the door, reminded me of Ruby, and I grabbed another bottle of beer from the fridge. Not particularly caring that it was only ten o’clock in the morning.
I’ve got so damn much on my mind, I don’t want to risk saying something inconsiderate or judgmental to Ruby. Like: How does a sweet woman like you end up fucking men for money? Easiest thing would be to walk away and ignore whatever feelings she’s eliciting from me. But after testing that option this past little while, I’m pretty sure walking away is not an option. That’s part of why I finally answered one of Ike’s calls and decided to meet him this morning. I want to see how Ruby is doing, but I also want to talk to him about somethin
g my lawyer asked me in our meeting yesterday afternoon. I want to pick his brain.
“Not much,” I finally respond, after the waitress hands me a menu and pours me a coffee. “Had a lot to think about.”
“I’ll bet,” Ike says. “I’ve gotta say, that lumberjack thing you’ve got going on looks impressive. Pretty badass for an upstanding citizen like yourself.” He points to my growing beard and casual attire of a flannel shirt and the ratty old jeans, which I’ve been wearing for a week. The chuckle that escapes me sounds rusty, but the smile lingers.
“I’ll try to remember to put on my Sunday best, next time.”
“Nah. This fits you better than the monkey suits.” He shoots me a meaningful look.
We’re interrupted by the waitress, who is back to take our orders before I’ve even looked at the menu. “I’ll just have the special,” I tell her and wait for Ike to put his order in. When she’s gone again, I lean forward on the table. “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to see you. On Monday, I signed the release in my lawyer’s office.” Ike’s eyes shoot up at this.
“You’re not fighting it?”
I shake my head. “I’ve been assured it’s futile. That I’d end up with less money and still won’t have a job after. And that’s the best possible outcome. He did say something that got me thinking,” I explain. “He pointed out that the severance pay, on top of what I’ve got squirreled away, is a significant amount of money. I’ve never had a family to care for, just myself, and other than a new car every few years, I’ve really never indulged in luxuries. What I put aside was well invested, and the net sum is enough to tide me over for a long time. He asked if there was something I’ve always wanted to do. Something I can feel passionate about. He suggested now might be the perfect time to explore that.”
I watch Ike’s eyes go big as comprehension hits him. “Your furniture?” A smile cracks his face. “Fuck yes, man! Damn I’m so gonna be your first customer. Viv’s been nagging for a dining table like yours. That’s gonna earn me some decent brownie points.”
I laugh at his outburst. “Like you need anymore brownie points when it comes to Viv, you lucky bastard.”
He shrugs his shoulders and winks. “Wouldn’t hurt just in case.”
“So, I’m guessing you think it’s a good idea?” I just want to make sure.
“You kidding me? I know your heart was never in your job. Don’t get me wrong.” He lifts his hand in defense when I try to object. “I realize your position with the city provided you with the security and dependability you craved, but fuck, Tim...doing something you can be passionate about is so much better.”
“Are you passionate about your job?” I’m curious to know.
“I love my job. But I’m passionate about my life. About Viv. About our future.” He smiles at me. “I have no regrets and wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Good. That’s good. That reminds me,” I segue into the other thing on my mind. “How’s Ruby doing?”
The significance of my question is not lost on Ike, as his eyes light up. “Rattled. I’m thinking now that perhaps the reason she’s had her eye on the door this entire past week is becoming clearer. I thought she was nervous about the cops showing up, although I’m sure that was part of it, I bet it was mostly to see if you’d walk through. Am I right?” he asks, and I flinch a little. “Did you start something and then walk away?” His expression has turned serious and tone is almost accusatory.
“I like her,” I admit. “I didn’t want to. It kind of surprised me at first, but I really like her. It’s just...” I scratch at my beard, considering how to voice this, without sounding like an ass. “I’d no sooner admitted it to myself, and all hell breaks loose. For both of us. I wasn’t sure...Hell. I’m still not sure how to work through all of this.”
“You’re talking about her being on the run, or the fact she worked as a prostitute?”
Of course the waitress chooses that exact moment to stop at our table with our breakfast. With a curious glance from Ike to me, she quickly slides our plates on the table and scurries off.
“Both,” I admit to him honestly.
He looks at me for the longest time before bending down to his breakfast. I follow suit and dig into mine, but a few bites in, I shove my plate away.
“I’m not judging you,” Ike mumbles, around a mouthful of hash browns. “I’m looking for a way to say this without pissing you off.” He takes a gulp of his coffee before taking a deep breath. “You’re a fucking moron,” he says without blinking, shocking the snot out of me. “Think about it. Did you ever question if Syd was good enough for Gunnar, given her history?” He raises one eyebrow in question.
“Fuck no. You know that,” I spit out, pissed he would even suggest such a thing.
“Right,” he says calmly, chomping on a piece of bacon. “And what about Viv? Ever look at her and see anything more than what she is today? I mean, talk about having a history, right?”
“You got a point?” I bite off through clenched teeth, to which Ike leans over the table, shoving his own plate out of the way.
“Yes, I’ve got a point, asshole. It being that you’re coming this close to painting Ruby with her history, things she had no control over, when you don’t judge anyone else by where they come from. Are you sure that’s your problem when it comes to Ruby? Think maybe it’s not the fucked up life she was forced to live, but your own hang ups?” He’s angry. I can see what he’s saying, but my mind gets stuck on one thing.
“Forced to live? Things she had no control over? What are you saying?” I don’t notice my hand gripping his wrist until he twists it free.
“I see you only got part of the story,” he says, his voice distinctly gentler. “My guess is you didn’t ask her? How she happened to end up in that life?”
I shake my head, stunned, Ike seems to know more than I do. I hadn’t asked. Hadn’t wanted to appear too judgmental and realize that in doing so, I’d been just that. I should’ve asked for an explanation.
“Normally, I’d suggest you get your answers directly from her, but seeing as your head is seriously fucked up right now, it might be better you know before you think of approaching her again.” Ike sighs deeply. “She talked to Viv, and she shared with me after that scene with your brother. I don’t have details on what exactly happened, you’ll have to get those directly from Ruby, but the gist of it is that some guy took advantage of her innocence when she was just a kid. Fourteen fucking years old.” The few bites I’d had of my breakfast work their way back up at his words. I have to fight to keep them down. Ike’s expression is solemn as he tells me what he knows in a soft voice. It’s gut-wrenching, even without all the details. I have a clear enough understanding of the evil, alive and well in this world, to be able to fill those in myself. An innocent child when her life was ruined. The mark on her thigh, the brand, even more poignant now with that knowledge. Branded, like fresh cattle. Jesus.
I pull my wallet out and toss some bills on the table when Ike stops me. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve gotta talk to her,” I snap, pushing away from the table when Ike’s hand shoots out and fists in my shirt, pulling me back down.
“Sit your ass down. Don’t know what’s in your head and I doubt you do. Not a good time to seek her out, buddy. Get your head on straight before you do.” He easily holds my angry glare, just waiting me out, and not letting go of my damn shirt. Finally I give in, albeit grudgingly. He’s right, I’m not thinking straight. I wouldn’t even fucking know what to say to her, or even whether I should.
“Have you heard from your brother?” Ike asks, as he holds his cup up to the waitress for a refill.
“He’s been calling. So has Mom, since I’ve bailed on two of the obligatory Sunday afternoons, as well as Christmas dinner at Casa di Veldman. I’ve avoided them both,” I admit, knowing if I don’t get in touch with them soon, they’ll be knocking down my door. I realize I’ve been pretty self-absorbed, not giving much thought to my bro
ther, who had his own rug pulled from beneath his feet. I should call him. Find out where his head it at and maybe get a bit more background on the douche Ruby was working for. The kind of trouble she might be in.
Yeah, I should probably start there.
-
Not ten minutes after sending him a text, Mark is standing on my front step.
After breakfast, I’d come back here and did some research online to see what I could find out about Carlos Delgado. It wasn’t much, other than what I’d already been told. I’d wanted to go talk to Ruby, see how she was doing, since I left her standing outside her apartment, and basically disappeared. That part was normal standard behavior for me, the walking away when things looked to get complicated, but I can’t say I’ve ever felt such a strong sense of loss after. Or this kind of need to know everything there is to know about a woman. Not even with Viv. So I sent a message to my brother, in hopes he could enlighten me some.
“You look like you crawled out of your hole,” he says, looking pretty damn ratty himself.
“Yeah? Well, at least I’m in good company: you look like you just came off a three-week bender,” I retort.
“Pretty much.” He drops down on the couch and props his feet up on the table. “So what’s new in your life?” he mocks. “Thanks for bailing on Christmas, leaving me to deal with Mom and Dad alone.”
With a deep breath, I catch him up on my fucked up situation, to which he reacts with predictable anger. That means, the next ten minutes I have to talk him down from wanting to rip that bitch a new one. He admits my comment about the bender had not been too far off the mark, but only by a week. He apparently discovered that at our age; it’s a lot harder to keep up, and a shitload more painful when you finally smarten up.
By the time Mark leaves, it’s dark out, my house is littered with empty pizza boxes, beer bottles, and the dining table is covered with notes and sketches. Also, I know more about the gang controlled sex trade than I ever wanted to.