Victim Of Circumstance

by Freya Barker

  “I know, but we have that now. No use looking back, honey.” I hear her cry softly and my heart goes out to her.

  “I’ll let you go. I should give the diner a call.”

  I barely have a chance to say goodbye before she hangs up.

  “Hi,” I tell Gray, who is still watching me closely.

  “Let me try to do this right,” he says almost grunting. “You look very nice tonight.”

  “Thank you. As do you.”

  “Right.” He flares his nostrils as he sucks in air. “Now what the fuck is going on? That sounded like trouble.”

  “Not my trouble, Gray,” I assure him, plucking my kitten from his arms and giving him a little cuddle before dropping him on the couch.

  “Why did you say he wouldn’t get far with you? Who are you talking about?” I can feel the tension coming off him.

  “Can I tell you over dinner? I’m starving.”

  I tilt my head to the side and throw him a small smile. I watch as he seems to gather himself before taking a step toward me, grabbing my hand in his and leading me toward the door. There he helps me into my coat, and I can just snag my purse before he takes my hand in his again and walks me outside to his truck. I noticed he’s cleaned it as he helps me in my seat and leans into the cab.

  “Hi,” he whispers, brushing a kiss over my lips.

  It’s tentative and sweet, and feels like the very first time.

  Gray

  It takes everything out of me not to interrogate her about the phone conversation I just overheard.

  When I heard her plead with whomever she was talking to for caution and then mentioned something about a trial, the hair on my neck stood on end.

  I grind my teeth and rein it in.

  “Where are we going?” Robin asks, as I drive out of town.

  There’s no snow in the forecast until next week and the road’s clear and quiet. Perfect night for a little drive.

  “How do you feel about Chinese food?”

  In my peripheral vision I catch her shift in her seat to face me.

  “Love it. It’s been ages, though. You have to go to Bay City for any restaurants.”

  “Not anymore. New place opened up in Pinconning a couple of months ago.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that.”

  She sounds pleased, a smile on her lips. So far so good. Finding out about the restaurant had been a stroke of luck. I overheard one of Olson’s customers recommending it to Jimmy last week and made a mental note. It’s been a long time since I’ve had Chinese and I’m fucking elated Robin likes it too.

  “That was Shirley by the way, the phone call?” she clarifies. “Waitress at the diner?” I draw a blank and I guess it shows on my face. “I guess you probably missed her at Over Easy. She left a couple of months ago. Anyway, she got away from an abusive marriage.”

  I feel the stirrings of my temper flaring at the mention of abuse.

  “He beat her?” I grind out through clenched jaws.

  “Yes,” she answers before pensively adding, “although abuse has many faces.”

  My head swings around to look at her. I wonder if she is referring to herself.

  “She charged him?”

  “She did. He hurt her badly last time. The cops arrested him and she finally told them everything. Of course he walked out on bail just days later, then disappeared, until last week apparently.”

  “Is she safe?”

  “Should be.”

  She proceeds to tell me about the two grown sons, the phone calls, and Shirley’s concern he might approach someone at the diner. I can see her concern, but I’m only worried about one person.

  By the time I pull into the parking lot behind the new restaurant, I’m resolved to make sure Robin stays safe.

  We’re led to a table by the window I had reserved. The woman on the phone assured me it wouldn’t be necessary, but I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Even in my much younger years, I hadn’t ever put thought or energy into wooing a woman, I’d been much too eager to get them into bed. It had been easy, much too easy. It’s all I knew and when I first connected with Robin, it was a natural pattern to fall into.

  But this is different. She is different. I was always focused on my own needs and wants. I’m not that secure or selfish anymore, so with Robin it seems important her needs match mine. I want her to choose me and therefore I have to win her.

  “This is really lovely,” she says, smiling at me from across the table. “I’m so excited about the food. Too bad I can’t order everything.” She glances over the menu offering way too many choices.

  The waitress returns with Robin’s glass of wine and my water.

  “Excuse me.” I raise my hand stop her when she starts to leave. “Is it possible to order a variety off the menu in smaller portions? Something we could share?”

  “If you look at the back page, we have several sampler options for two or more people.”

  I see Robin’s face light up when she scans the choices.

  “What would you like?” she asks.

  “I’m good with anything. You pick.”

  It takes her two seconds to choose and the waitress leaves with our order in hand.

  “Thank you for this. I haven’t been out in forever. I was actually really nervous, but you make it easy.”

  The fact she apparently suffered the same jitters I had immediately settles any remaining nerves.

  “I could say the same,” I admit. A sudden urge to haul her over the table has me grabbing my glass of water for a sip.

  “You really must like water,” she notes. “Other than coffee, it’s all I’ve seen you drink.”

  “I don’t have a problem with drinking, I just prefer keeping a clear head.” She looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to elaborate, so I lean over the table and grab her hand. “It’s about control,” I admit. “I’m afraid to lose it.”

  “Because of what happened to you?”

  It’s a different way of looking at things, almost absolving me for my actions. I give her hand a squeeze; touched she chooses to see me as a victim of circumstance. It’s tempting, but I can’t allow myself to deny the responsibility I carry. Besides, I want her to know who I really am. What I’m capable of.

  “Because of what I did,” I say firmly, and she nods her understanding.

  I’m amazed at this woman, so readily accepting my need to hold myself accountable. So willing to accept me where I’m at.

  I open my mouth to tell her as much when the waitress appears with a stack of warmers, setting them down in the center of our table. A few minutes later, we are separated by a smorgasbord of fragrant dishes and when I look across the table at Robin, her gray eyes are bright and her lips smile wide.

  “This looks delicious,” she comments.

  “It does,” I agree, my eyes firmly fixed on her face.

  Over dinner she asks about the bar and my plans, and I tell her I’m moving into the apartment over the Dirty Dog over the weekend, but plan to keep working at Olson’s. At least for now.

  She talks about her daughter, Paige, with great pride. She mentions her mother and the new man she’s seeing. She confesses that despite wanting her mom happy after her father’s death a few years ago, she struggles with the concept of a ‘new man.’

  When she asks, I find myself sharing a little about my sister, something that still isn’t easy to do but she seems to understand that as well.

  The night has cooled off significantly when we step outside, and I drape my arm around her shoulders, tucking her close as we walk to my truck.

  “You’re going the wrong way,” she says when I purposely turn towards the lake instead of back home.

  “I’m not.”

  “Oh, it’s so pretty.” She looks at me with a big smile when we head in the direction of the lakefront park.

  When I checked into the restaurant yesterday, I saw mention of the annual Festival of Lights held here. Everywhere you look are Christmas light d
isplays and at the center is a Christmas market.

  This is my attempt to apologize for freezing her out after mentioning Thanksgiving.

  “Are you sure?” she asks, putting a hand on my arm when I turn off the engine.

  “Positive.”

  The chaste kiss she leans over the center console to give me is all the forgiveness I need.

  When she slips her hand in mine as we walk along the displays, my chest swells.

  For everything I’ve done wrong in my life, at least I got this right.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Robin

  “I thought you were flying?”

  I’m parked outside the Dirty Dog, talking to Paige.

  Gray said I should drop in on the weekend, since he planned to get a lay of the land and work in the bar.

  He stayed in touch via text, but I haven’t seen him since our night out on Thursday. He messaged me this afternoon to tell me he was all moved in and if I wasn’t too tired after my shift, to meet him for a drink.

  I was definitely not too tired, but went home first for a quick shower and change before heading back to town.

  Paige caught me as I was parking the SUV.

  “We talked about it, but thought the road trip might be fun. We’ll be careful, Mom. Josh found us an Airbnb not too far from Charleston to break up the trip. I’ve never been that far south.”

  I can hear the excitement in her voice and try hard not to let my motherly instincts spoil her mood. There are so many cautions on my lips, but I don’t allow myself to give voice to any but one.

  “Promise you’ll call every day? At least while you’re driving?”

  “I promise, Mom,” she says patiently. God, I raised a great kid. “Have you talked to Gram?”

  “I did. They arrived safely yesterday and she says the place is even better than she imagined. She was going to take some pictures this weekend and send them.”

  “Does she even know how?” Paige asks, snickering.

  “Apparently Ken does.”

  I lean my head back against the rest and stare at the ceiling of my car. I’m still having a hard time imagining Mom with any other man than my dad, let alone one who is so much younger, but she seems smitten.

  “I talked to him for a few minutes before they left, you know?” I add.

  “How is he?”

  “Well, from what I could hear over the phone, he sounds nice enough. He gave me emergency contact information and the address, just in case. That helped.”

  I have to admit, when he told me he was sure I had concerns and wanted to do his best to alleviate them, it took me by surprise. He seemed quite taken with my mother as well.

  “Gram may be a bit of an innocent, but she’s not stupid, Mom,” my daughter informs me. “In fact, when she met Josh while she was here, she gave him the third degree.” She giggles. “He was duly intimidated.”

  I grin at the idea my mother would intimidate anyone. She’s generally easygoing and sweet.

  “Good for her.”

  “Are you going to be okay, Mom?”

  My nose stings as I try hard to answer in a straight voice.

  “You bet I am, sweetie. I’ll be fine. You guys have fun and I call dibs on having you guys for Christmas next year.”

  “Deal, Momma. Love you.”

  “Love you too. So much.”

  I’m still sitting there, my head back and my eyes closed, well after ending the call, when a knock on my window startles me.

  “Hey.”

  Gray smiles down at me when I open the door and get out.

  “Hi.”

  “I thought maybe you couldn’t decide whether to come in or not, so I thought I’d help you out with that.”

  “Oh?”

  He wraps an arm around the small of my back and lowers his mouth to mine. This kiss, although still sweet and reserved, has his tongue sliding along the seam of my lips, politely asking entry. When I open for him I get a hint of hunger, but nothing like the voracious appetite of our earlier kisses. Not even my nails digging into his biceps or my pleading moan can shake his careful control.

  I almost growl when he lifts his head, leaving me frustrated. His eyes are dancing and a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, as he grabs my hand and starts walking to the bar. He knows exactly what he does to me. Bastard.

  The long bar is on the left when you walk in, on the right a handful of tables and chairs, and toward the back I see two pool tables. There are maybe ten or so people inside, some of them I recognize, including Bunker behind the bar.

  “Hey, Robin. What can I get ya, darlin’?”

  “White wine, please. Thanks, Bunk.”

  Gray pulls out a stool for me and when I sit down I hear him whisper by my ear.

  “Bunk? You know him?”

  I bite off a smile as I turn to face him.

  “I do.” I point at the pair of seniors racking balls on the pool table. “I also know Enzo and John, as well as a few of the others.” I put a hand on the arm he has braced on the bar and scan the deep creases of his face, softening my voice. “I know I’m new to you, but I’ve lived here almost as long as you’ve been away, Gray. I work at the town diner, and everyone’s been in there at some point in time these past years.”

  The anger drains from his eyes and he hangs his head. I give his arm a squeeze.

  “Fucked up already, didn’t I?”

  I shake my head and am about to say no when Bunker is back with my wine.

  “Thanks.”

  At the sound of my voice, Gray straightens up and drapes his arm around my shoulder. Bunker looks from me to Gray, a smirk on his face.

  “Ease up. Brought the woman wine, boss. Not like I propositioned her.” With a wink for me, he turns to a patron waiting to place an order at the other end of the bar. I look up at Gray.

  “To answer your question: no, you haven’t fucked up. Yet,” I tease him. “I actually think I’m flattered you’re a little territorial, but if every time another man even comes in my vicinity you feel compelled to mark me like a vigilant dog does a fire hydrant, I’m afraid the shine will come off real fast.”

  The corner of his mouth twitches and I see humor bleeding into his eyes.

  “Did you just call yourself a fire hydrant?”

  I take a sip of my wine and shrug.

  “Only if you consider yourself a vigilant dog.”

  Gray

  I chuckle and pull out a stool before I make an even bigger idiot of myself.

  “Fair enough.”

  Leaning over the bar, I grab the bottle of water I left there.

  “So what had you sitting outside in the parking lot? Were you having second thoughts?”

  She shakes her head before glancing at me, a little smile playing on her lips.

  “Paige called just as I pulled up. She’s leaving for Florida tomorrow. I thought they were flying, but she says they’re driving.”

  “They? She going with friends?”

  “Boyfriend. They’re spending Christmas with his parents.”

  It’s not hard to recognize Robin at the very least has mixed feelings around that. It’s also becoming clear why she was happy to roam around the Christmas market with me, but didn’t want to buy anything.

  “What are you going to do? For Christmas? Celebrating with your mother?”

  She throws me a pained smile and shrugs her shoulders.

  “Actually, Mom left yesterday for Costa Rica with her…boyfriend.” Sounds like it cost her to say that, but she quickly plasters a bright smile on her face. “Which is actually quite perfect since Kim always ends up working Christmas, and now she can spend it with her family for a change.”

  “The diner’s open on Christmas?”

  “Yeah. She started doing that five years ago for some of our regulars who’d otherwise be alone for the holidays. Jason comes in to cook with his wife, and Kim usually serves with a part-timer. We don’t open until noon, though, and close the kitchen at eight.”

/>   “I’m sorry if I rubbed it in, taking you to that market the other day. I didn’t know.”

  “Of course not, and you didn’t. I enjoyed it. A lot,” she adds putting her hand back on my arm.

  I like it when she touches me. Maybe a little too much, given the current state of my jeans, which once again feel a little too tight. As much as I’ve told myself and promised her we’d go slow, my body is still not quite on board with that idea.

  “Also,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m sure you already have plans, but if not, feel free to pop in.”

  “I don’t have plans,” I find myself admitting.

  She looks at me like she expects me to run off again, but I don’t plan to. Don’t get me wrong, I hate she clearly misses her family being around for the holidays, but it does simplify things for me. Meeting her at the diner for a Christmas dinner is easier than sitting down at the table as the odd one out at a family gathering.

  “Perfect.”

  Her smile is just that. Fuck, the entire woman is conjured from my dreams.

  I had planned to show her my new apartment, but I can’t guarantee I won’t maul her the moment we’re out of the public eye. Instead, I nudge my head toward the one vacant pool table.

  “How’s your game?”

  She tilts her head back and laughs heartily.

  “Pool? The closest I ever came to a cue and balls was in college when I played field hockey. I sucked at that too.” She grins and her eyes sparkle. “But I’m game to learn.”

  Well, hell.

  It seemed the safer option just a minute ago, but now I’m thinking pool may have been an error in judgment.

  Thirty minutes later, I know how big a mistake it was, when I lean over Robin to help her with a difficult shot and her ass presses into my groin. Bunker, the asshole, seems to recognize my pain as he encourages Robin to lean back a little more.

  The shot goes wild and the ball ends up bouncing over the bumper and hits the floor to my bartender’s great hilarity. Asshole. He has Robin chuckling along with him, while I covertly adjust myself. Apparently I’m not successful, since the two old coots at the next table over stop what they’re doing and watch me with wide grins.