by Chelsea Fine
“He’s gentle with what he loves and he’d do anything to protect it….”
I swallow again because I’ve just realized, for the first time in all these years, that Carter loves ME.
I go on, because even though his mom might not understand Carter’s love, I do. “He’s careful with what he loves, and he’s scared of losing it.”
I keep running the brush slowly through her tendrils, trying to keep my voice from cracking with emotion. “But there are some kinds of love that you can’t lose, no matter how hard you try. So there’s no need for him to be afraid.”
Her hair is smooth now. I run my fingers through it and wish Mrs. Jax’s mind was as healthy as her hair. I look down at her and she has fallen asleep.
I see a tear fall from my face and land on the brown floor. I hurry to wipe my cheeks before I completely lose it and flood the house with tears.
I think I’ve always known that I love Carter. But now I know he loves me too—even if HE doesn’t know it.
CARTER
I’m silent in the hallway, not because I’m trying to be sneaky, but because I’ve forgotten how to speak.
I can see Sophie—sweet, beautiful Sophie—trying to dry her face with her tiny hands.
I just want to hold her. Like she’s a doll or something. I want to hold her, and kiss her, and feed her and dance with her and tuck her in at night.
She brushed my mom’s hair.
She’s the most amazing girl I’ve ever known.
I’m quiet because I’m trying to keep myself from shouting something stupid like, “Sophie, I would die for you! Will you please always hold my hand on the swing!”
I’m pathetic.
I clear my throat and enter the living room. Sophie looks up at me like nothing’s wrong. Like she didn’t just brush my crazy mom’s hair and talk about how great my ability to love is.
My chest hurts.
“Hey,” she says, and I play along with her.
“Hey.” I look at my sleeping mom and glance at Sophie. “Thank you.”
She nods because what else can she say?
Sophie goes to the kitchen and I carry my mom to her room and tuck her into bed. She mumbles something about rodents with spatulas and I ignore it.
When I get back to the kitchen, Sophie is waiting for me. I stop walking and look at her for a long time.
Instead of asking me ‘what’s wrong?’, or ‘what’s up?’, or ‘why are you staring at me like a weirdo?’, she just stands still, and silently lets me take her in.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And not just because she’s got a hot body and flawless skin and smells like apples. But because she’s in my kitchen.
Without judgment. Without fear.
She’s standing in my house, where she knows me and all of my demons, looking at me with nothing but love.
I’m in love with Sophie Hartman, and it scares the crap out of me.
“We should go.” She says softly.
I nod my head and sigh.
So we leave. We get in my old truck and drive downtown. We’re quiet the whole way there. It’s tense in the truck, so we let the silence float.
I want to hold her hand, but it’s different now.
I feel like if I touch her hand I won’t be able to let go.
Ever.
I’m scared out of my mind.
Miles and miles we drive in silence. “Are you nervous?” I ask. It’s a redundant question. Of course she’s nervous.
She sighs. “Yeah. I’m mostly freaked out about seeing her in, you know, her element.”
I nod. I can’t imagine what that’s like. “It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.” I say, and I mean it.
The sun is starting to set as we enter downtown. Low Lou’s is a shady place at the end of 1st street. I park the truck and we both sit there, not moving, for a few minutes.
Sophie’s trying to mentally prepare herself. She’s trying to pretend she doesn’t care.
She’s breaking my heart.
“Sophie…” I say, and she looks at me with her little girl eyes.
I’m a goner.
I clear my throat. “No matter what happens in there, no matter what you see or feel, I want you to know that you are incredible. You are brave and wise and strong. None of your mother’s choices have anything to do with you, okay? You are your own person. And at the end of this day, you will still be Sophie. And I will still be here for you. Always.” I pause, because I’m close to saying ‘I love you’ and completely freaking her out. “Okay?”
A tear falls from her face and I can’t help myself. I brush my thumb across her wet cheek and cup her face in my hand. This is the first time I’ve ever touched her face.
If I die right now, I’ll die happy.
She tilts her head into my hand and closes her eyes. She’s taking deep breaths, trying to slow her tears.
I pull her to my chest and press her against my heart. She doesn’t resist. She folds herself into me like she was meant to be there and sighs.
She’s so small and warm and fragile. I wrap my arms around her, never wanting to let go.
Right here, in my old truck, in the middle of seedy downtown, is the best moment of my life.
Because Sophie’s safe.
Sophie’s in my arms.
And I no longer have demons.
I kiss the top of her head because it feels right. I’ve never kissed her before.
Why haven’t I ever kissed her before? Why don’t I ever pull her into my arms like this? Why have I never touched her soft face before today?
What have I been waiting for?
A minute passes. She looks up at me and her face is dry. “Okay, I have to do this.”
Our moment is over so I slowly release her. She moves away from me and a piece of me dies.
SOPHIE
Touching Carter makes everything better. My heart has cracks and scars and horror stories, but Carter makes me forget about the pain.
I need him.
I love him.
I can’t be whole without him.
I reluctantly move farther away from Carter and his familiar ocean scent, and get out of the truck. I walk up to the bouncer standing outside Low Lou’s, trying to look like I want to be there, with Carter right behind me.
“ID’s,
” the bouncer growls. He’s a bald giant, with a dark goatee and tattoos covering his throat.
At least my mom now works someplace where identification is required. That’s got to be a little safer than the ‘open admission’ policy she had under Pete.
Carter and I show him our ID’s. We’re legal. Yay.
We enter the strip bar and everything inside me screams RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY! But I don’t, of course. I’ve got children to feed. I’ve got a family to take care of.
Ugh.
It takes a minute for our eyes to adjust to the darkness. The air is thick with smoke and smells like stale…something. I can make out silhouettes of people in the back corner, but no faces.
Carter takes the lead and I follow him like a puppy. I feel safe this way.
He walks up to the bartender and asks if my mom is working tonight.
The bartender finishes wiping down the bar top with a dirty rag before answering. He’s an overweight man who looks like he’s in his fifties, but he’s probably no older than thirty-five. He’s wearing gaudy gold rings on six of his chubby fingers and he has a cigarette in his mouth.
When he finishes smearing the grime from the rag onto the bar, he looks up and gives us a lecture about calling ahead and waiting lists and pricing. Then he tries to sell us on a different stripper named Cotton Candy, all the while keeping his cigarette balanced in the corner of his mouth. A half-dressed woman—who I can only assume is Cotton Candy—walks past the bar and winks at Carter.
I think I might be sick.
“Actually,” I respond because I’m losing my patience—and my stomach, “I’m her daughter. I need to see her.”
T
he bartender looks at me suggestively.
Carter shifts so he’s more in front of me.
“Thinking of a mommy-daughter act, sweet cheeks? Lou loves those kinda shows. I bet he’d even give ya prime time with a body like that.”
He’s staring at my chest and I feel exposed—even though my shirt more than covers me.
I hear Carter growl so I quickly say, “No. I need to talk to her.”
The bartender says, “We don’t do none of that family drama in here, ya understand? I’ll tell her she’s got visitors, but if ya cause a scene, I’ll kick you out of here, got it?”
I dislike the bartender immensely, but I nod anyway.
Carter’s hand is suddenly on the back of my arm and I feel safe again. We don’t speak, probably because I’m close to vomiting, but we understand each other. His hand slowly runs downs my arm and finds my hand. He weaves his fingers in between mine and I want to jump into his arms.
The bartender leads us to a darkened doorway and points to the back.
This time I lead the way, with Carter connected to me at the hand. We pass the bartender and enter what I can only assume is a dressing room.
Around us there are naked strippers running around trying on clothes, makeup strewn about vanities, and lingerie littering the floor.
And right smack dab in the middle of the mess is my mom. A tiny sequined vest is squeezing her boobs together. Other than that she’s wearing nothing but a thong.
And a wasted grin.
“Sophie, baby! What are you doing here?” She comes over and throws her arms around me. She’s hugging me like I’m a long lost girlfriend—not her tired, hungry little girl.
She smells like smoke and vanilla.
“Hey, mom. I, uh—“
“Ruby! Get over here! Come meet my baby!” She’s happy. Very happy.
Which means the heroin has set in.
Or the meth.
Or the coke.
I let go of Carter’s hand so I can rub my sweaty palm on my pants.
“Trophy, I didn’t know you had a girl!” Ruby appears from around the corner, topless. She takes in Carter and purrs. “Oh, honey, please tell me this isn’t your boy, ‘cause you know I like ’em young!”
I almost spit on Ruby.
Instead I turn to my mother, confused. “Trophy?”
“Yeah, baby. That’s my stage name. Like it? Now our names rhyme!” She’s excited about this. She thinks it’s fun.
Ruby leaves our conversation and I’m grateful she took her naked boobs with her.
I look at my mom. Her body is skinny, bruised, and has a very fake tan. I want to pick her up, give her a bath, and wrap her in a muumuu.
“Huh.” That’s all I say. I hate that my mom has a stage name.
“So, Sophie, darlin’. What brings you here? How did you know where to find me?”
She’s pleasant. She doesn’t realize she switched professions without leaving a forwarding address.
“Pete, mama. He told me I could look here.”
She waves me off, “That Pete was no good. He was a complete loser.”
No, duh.
“Uh, mama. I came to see you because rent is due, and the kids need some new clothes—“
“Kids? Trophy, you got more rugrats at home?” Ruby is back, but this time with a top on.
“Yeah, Rubes. I got two boys.”
I try to hide my disgust at her forgetfulness. “And Chloe, mama.”
She gasps, “Oh, that’s right! I got little Chloe back home!” She giggles like it’s hilarious that she forgot about her own child. “How old is little miss Chloe these days? Two? Three, now?”
I hate my mother.
“Six, mama.”
“Six! Wow, the time flies.”
I move back a step and feel Carter’s chest behind me. It’s comforting. It’s the only thing keeping me from screaming.
I continue. “Right, so the kids, all the kids, need clothes and rent is due—“
She waves me off again. “Say no more sweetie pie.” She digs around in a knockoff designer purse on the nearest vanity and pulls out a wad of bills. She shoves the money at me and smiles.
“Big money in dancin’, darlin’. Mama’s been real good this month.”
I clutch my stomach, trying to keep my insides from spilling out. I grab the bills and flatten them so they’ll fit in my wallet. I notice they’re all hundreds.
“Mom…there’s like…” I count, “Three thousand dollars here!”
“I know, baby!” she squeaks. She smiles big and I notice her front tooth is cracked. “I told you there’s good money here!” She looks me up and down like she’s never seen me before. “You know…you would make BIG money here, Sophie! I mean BIG MONEY! Why, you and I together could pull in five grand a night!”
She’s serious.
“Want me to talk to Lou, sweetie pie?” She’s looking at me with genuine excitement and my heart completely severs.
She’s no longer my mother.
She is a woman who gave birth to four kids, and left three of them in my care. She’s how I pay bills. That’s all.
I decide I’m getting a good job as soon as I graduate because I will never again take her dirty money.
“Uh, no, mama.” My voice cracks and I’m close to tears.
“Honey, what’s wrong? Are you sick, baby?”
Of course she thinks I’m sick. She’s too strung out to realize I’m suffering from a broken heart.
Carter speaks and my heart calms down, “I think we need to go.”
“Oh, I’m so rude. Sophie, who’s your friend here?” I look up, not seeing my mom, seeing only a stripper.
“This is Carter.” I say. She doesn’t recognize him so I prompt, “From next door?”
She raises her eyebrows in surprise, “Oh, Carter! Your daddy used to beat you, right? Terrible thing about your mama losing her mind. How ya holdin’ up, deary? No broken bones, I see.”
I hate her.
If I stay for another minute I’ll strangle her.
“No, Mrs. Hartman. No broken bones.” Carter’s voice is controlled.
I’m pretty sure I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown. “I gotta go.” I don’t say ‘bye’. I don’t call her ‘mom’. I just turn around and leave.
I’ll never see her again and that liberates me.
It also kills me.
Carter’s behind me as we exit the club. He shuffles me into the truck and drives us away. The buildings are a blur as we leave downtown.
It’s dark outside.
We’ve been driving for a long time and I can see stars against the black sky. I haven’t cried yet. I’m too numb to cry.
Carter pulls off onto a dirt road and I know where he’s going.
I love him for it.
Now I do start to cry because he’s so great and he knows me so well.
He reaches his hand out and covers mine. He thinks I’m crying because of my mom, but I’m not.
I’m crying because the boy next door loves me, and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
CARTER
I’m driving out to the old mining caves.
It’s the one place that feels like our own. It’s empty of people and full of the sky. I can’t bring myself to take Sophie back home yet.
So I park in the dirt, lean over and silently kiss the top of Sophie’s sweet head. She’s crying and I’m helpless. I can’t take away any of the hard stuff she deals with. So I do the next best thing.
I get out of the truck, open her door, pull her out, and sit her on the back of the truck.
It’s what we used to do.
Before.
We sit on the back of my truck and stare at the stars. We haven’t been here for a long time.
There are no cigarettes, this time. Just more brokenness.
But there’s something else, too.
Love.
Not the kind you see in the movies or hear about on the radio.
The real kind.
The kind that gets beaten down and bloody, yet perseveres.
The kind that hopes even when hope seems foolish.
The kind that forgives. The kind that believes in healing.
The kind that can sit in silence and feel renewed.
The real kind of love.
It’s rare and we have it.
Our feet are dangling off the edge of the truck, as we look out into the darkness. Sophie sighs and leans against me.
She smells like apples and tears.
I let her finish crying before I speak. “Sorry about…tonight.”
She nods. “Me too.”
We wrap our hands together and don’t speak.
We sit like that for hours. Sophie leaning against me, breathing in softly, and me rubbing my thumb across her little hand. It’s a good ending to a bad day. It’s not a happy ending, but it’s good.
Someday I’ll make sure it’s happy.
SOPHIE
The Littles are hyper on this Monday morning, excited for the end-of-school carnival later this week. I’m excited, too. Not for the carnival, but for the end of school. I’ll be done. I’ll be free to make a new life for all of us.
I’m running around like a frantic chicken, trying to get lunches and backpacks and breakfast done.
Carter couldn’t come over this morning. He called to say his mom had an episode and had shattered all of their glasses. He was busy combing the house for overlooked shards that could cut bare feet.
He’s a good guy.
I get everyone out the door, grab a mug full of hot coffee, and lock up.
The Littles all leave in their general directions as I walk up to Carter’s door. I open it and peek inside.
Carter’s on his hands and knees, squinting under the dining table. He sighs and I clear my throat.
He looks up, not surprised to see me.
“Morning, sunshine.” I say with a smile. It makes him smile back and I feel victorious.
“Morning,” he says.
“I brought you coffee.” I take it over to him as he stands up. It’s steaming hot. I put it in his favorite mug.
He looks down at the coffee, looks at me, and twitches his mouth.