by Andi Jaxon
“Dirty martini please, extra olives.”
She bows and walks to the bar to make my drink while Garrett heads my direction. His arm reaches out for a hug, but I step back, avoiding his touch. I don’t like to be touched; he knows that. Being in front of our parents will not change that.
I lift an eyebrow but say nothing to him. One side of his mouth lifts in a sneer but I won’t give him the satisfaction of a response. He’s not worth the effort.
“You’ve become increasingly hard to get a hold of.” His voice loud enough for our parents to overhear and quiet down to listen.
“My best friend got married last week, I’ve started a new job, and I’ve just moved. I’ve been busy.” Taking my drink from the maid, I take a sip and pretend as if I don’t feel the sudden tension in the room.
“I didn’t get a wedding invitation, who got married?” The confusion on his face is comical as he tries to figure out who I know that he doesn’t.
“Benjamin Wallace. We’ve been friends since we were children. I’m quite sure you don’t know him.” It’s my turn to be smug.
“You remember that little poor boy she used to play with sometimes,” Mother’s voice interjects into our conversation. She says it so flippantly, ‘that little poor boy,’ as if his life doesn’t matter. As if he isn’t important enough to be called by name because he doesn’t come from money. The rock in my stomach grows but I can’t show my reaction, it’ll only feed them.
Garrett chuckles. “Ah, yes. Little Ben, I do remember him. Your dirty shadow all through high school.”
“You mean my boyfriend, all through high school.” I take another sip of my martini. “If I remember correctly, you didn’t like having to compete for my attention.”
“Sounds like you still have feelings for him, why didn’t he ask you to marry him?” I’m getting under Garrett’s skin and I’m enjoying it. His shoulders are tense, the hand holding his glass is turning white from the force of his grip.
I shrug my shoulder as if it’s no big deal. “We moved apart and I went to Cal Poly, he stayed here. Long distance is a real bitch.”
“Dinner is ready,” a butler announces, cutting through the tension in the room.
With my head held high, I enter the dining room and take a seat to the right of my father. Everyone filters in behind me, Father at the head of the table, Mother at the other end. Garrett sits next to me while his parent’s sit across from us.
Dinner is served, I’m not paying attention, just drowning out the conversation around me until I can leave. I hate these dinners where I’m required to be polite and make nice with people I can’t stand.
“Kristen?” my eyes lift from my plate and the noodles I’m pushing around.
“Yes?”
“You mentioned that you started working. Where are you working?” The mayor’s wife, Candace asks.
“I’m a journalist for a local newspaper.” I sit up straighter, proud of my accomplishment.
“Oh, that’s nice.” She’s uncomfortable. Looking anywhere but at me, lifting her drink for something to do.
“Kristen likes to do what we’ve told her not too.” Mother speaks up from the end of the table. Her drinks are obviously getting to her, loosening up her lips.
“Telling the world the story of people who have overcome massive odds, are going out of their way to help those in need, or exposing deceit and lies is a noble profession. I will not be made to feel guilty about it.” Snapping at my mother does nothing to help me feel better. The tension in the room rises as now everyone is uncomfortable.
A sweaty hand touches my leg. Jumping from the unexpected and unwanted contact, my head jerks toward Garrett. His hand moves up my thigh, dragging my dress up with it.
“Remove your hand.” Calmly and clearly, I speak to Garrett. Drilling holes into him with my stare.
He smirks, turning to look at me. His hand keeps moving. Moving quickly, I grab one of his fingers and bend it back toward his wrist. Garrett yells out, dropping his shoulder and leaning toward me to lessen the pain now radiating up his arm.
Mother stands, pushing her chair back. “Kristen Grace! You let go of his hand right now!” the blush on her cheeks give away her embarrassment at my actions.
Ignoring her, I keep my eyes on Garrett. “Are you done touching what doesn’t belong to you?”
Pain is causing him to sweat, his forehead scrunched up even though his eyes are on his hand. “Yes, let me go.”
“Where are your manners, Garrett?”
“Please!” he yells, it takes a lot of self-control not to laugh at him. “Let me go, please!” he’s almost on the verge of tears.
As suddenly I bent his finger back, I let it go and turn back to my plate then look at my mother. “This has been fun but I’m going to have to call it a night.” Standing, I place my napkin next to my plate and leave the dining room. This is all the family time I can take.
At the front door, I retrieve my wrap and purse when the distinct sound of my mother’s footsteps clack against the floor behind me. Turning to face her, I wait. The bored expression on my face doing nothing to deter her. She walks up to me and slaps her hand across my cheek. My head snaps to the side and my hand cups my stinging cheek. Shocked, I don’t say anything to her.
“How dare you embarrass me in front of the mayor and his family. You walk back into that dining room and apologise to him right now!” Slowly, my head rights itself on my shoulders to look at her. Her face is flushed red, hands clenched tight, and she appears to be trying to hold something back. She’s furious.
“I will do no such thing. He was given the warning to remove his hand from my leg, when he didn’t, I removed it for him. Was I supposed to let him molest me there at the table?” my voice rises with my own anger. How dare she get angry with me for defending myself against unwanted sexual advances.
“You know better! You know to deal with the situation in private, away from peering eyes. You have embarrassed not only yourself and your family, but Garrett and his family!” she yells.
“I will not sit and take it while someone touches me inappropriately! Good night, Mother!” Opening the door, I stomp out and walk down the long driveway. I’ll walk for a while to clear my head then call an uber to pick me up.
My cheek stings enough to still have unfallen tears in my eyes. I will never understand my mother. How can she tell her daughter to let a man touch her, in front of others no less, and not defend herself?
Halfway down the street, a car pulls over next to me. Pretending to ignore it, I keep walking, preparing to make a big scene if I need too. The car turns off and a door opens, looking over my shoulder, I let out a shaking breath when I realize it’s Alex.
“Hey, Kris, what are you doing here?” he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the car. The dark blue of his uniform shirt pulling at the sleeves as the fabric tries to stretch over the tattooed muscles.
“I could ask you the same thing.” My arms wrap around my middle. I’m too emotionally vulnerable for this right now. I don’t want to look at him, I don’t want to see the smirk in his eyes when he riles me up because tonight, it’s going to be incredibly easy. I don’t want to see that damn sexy smile that has worked on countless woman, while he jokes around wearing a uniform that stands for so much.
“Hey,” his voice soft, comforting. I startle when I realize how close he is to me, only about a foot away from me. Close enough that I can smell his cologne and mint on his breath. “Are you okay?”
He’s not joking now. Concern is written all over him, from the set of his shoulders to the ridges between his eyes. I’ve only ever seen him like this once, when we were trying to find Ben last winter.
“I’m just walking. Is that a crime, officer?” Like I always do, I wrap snark and sarcasm around me as shield. Putting up a wall between myself and anything that can hurt me.
For a moment he doesn’t respond, just takes me in. His eyes zero in on my cheek. He steps closer and grips
my chin and turns my face into the light. “Who hit you?” his voice is calm but no longer soothing. He’s pissed and wants a fight.
Pulling my chin from his grasp, I take a step back, needing the space between us. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I’m sure there’s more important things for you to worry about.”
Wanting to end this conversation and the emotional sting my mothers’ slap had on me, I turn to keep walking but am stopped with a hand on my arm. I pull my arm from his grasp, using my wrap to keep his hands off my skin. “Someone hit you hard enough to leave a mark. I want to know who it was.”
“And I told you, it doesn’t matter. So, drop it.”
Alex’s hands go to his waist, obviously frustrated with me. It’s not like I can or will press charges against my own mother.
“Where are you coming from? Do you need a ride home?”
Why do I want him to take me home? Wrap his arms around me? I don’t like being touched, but his lingers on my skin.
“I’m fine. I’m taking a walk to clear my head. Good night, Officer Bennet.” Turning from him once again, I walk away from him and he lets me. It’s not until I’m at the corner that I hear him get back in his squad car and drive past me.
Once his taillights have disappeared, I pull up my Uber app and call for a ride. The short interaction with Alex left me more vulnerable, rawer, than when I started. I want to cry but what happened at my parent’s house isn’t anything I’m unfamiliar with. Being touched brings back the nightmares. When the nightmares come, I can’t sleep. I’m afraid to sleep because of what I know I’ll see.
When I get home, I’ll unpack more boxes until I’m exhausted and can’t think any more. Maybe that will keep the horrors at bay. Maybe.
Alex
IT’S BEEN A WEEK since I saw Kristen walking down the street in a rich neighborhood. Since someone hit her. Knowing someone put their hands on her boils my blood. What kind of insecure bastard strikes a woman?
I’ve been pushing myself when I run, going farther than I normally do. Just so I can sleep without the possibilities plaguing my dreams. Knowing who her parents are, she could be dating some rich jackass who thinks his money will save him. It eats at me that she wouldn’t let me help her.
Shaking my head, I carry a flat of water out to the front lawn and stack it on top of the others. “Hey, Dad, thanks for the help. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome Alex. You know you owe me for this though, right?” he lugs a few cases of water into a wagon and picks up a plastic pool.
“I know, beer and pizza. You got it, Pops.” He shakes his head, muttering something about grown ass kids while pulling the wagon down the street. It’s a group effort to get the block party set up.
One massive grill is set up for dogs and burgers but kiddie pools full of ice, water bottles, and water toys are set up all over the neighborhood. Tables are set up on either side of the grill for plates, condiments, and cooked food. Once the sun goes down, we’ll do some fireworks, pass out sparklers and glow bracelets for the kids. Music will be playing, people will dance, trash cans will need to be checked and emptied, and everyone will have a good time. Plus, the kids won’t be hungry tonight.
My parents and I have done this every year since I moved in. It’s grown every year too. The first year, about twenty people came, last year was about two hundred. I think next year we’ll get another grill and tables to set up on another street. The people here are so appreciative of it. Most of the time, there’s cookies, pasta or egg salad, cake, even lumpia; all kinds of goodies that families make to share with everyone. I couldn’t be prouder of the people I call neighbors.
I’m getting the grill set up when someone slaps me on the shoulder.
“Hey man!” I turn to hug Alister then Ben. “I thought you guys were going to be gone a few more days.”
“You really thought we would miss the block party?” Alister wraps his arm around Ben and pulls him closer.
“I’m so glad you guys are here. I’m getting the grill up, but I can put you to work if you’re willing to help out.”
“Of course, what do you need?” Ben offers.
“I need to make sure all the trash cans are out and have bags in them. The dumpster is at the end of the street, so we need to make sure Dad doesn’t lose the wagon or trash duty is gonna suck.”
Alister chuckles. “Alight, I’ll go grab the wagon from Dad before he has a chance to lose it. Looks like he’s about done with drink set up anyway.” He looks around and spots Dad a few houses away. “Hey, where’s Mom?”
“She said she would be here later but didn’t give any more information.” I shrug my shoulders. Mom is a loose cannon sometimes, she does whatever the hell she wants.
“Jeez. No good can come of that.” Alister shakes his head but smiles. “Well, if you see her message me. She doesn’t know we’re home yet.”
“You got it.” Alister and Ben head toward Dad and I get back to firing up the grill. Technically, it’s two grills and I have a few extra canisters of propane. Hopefully I’ll have enough to make it through but I’m not afraid to send someone out for a refill.
Not long after Ben and Alister arrive, I’m busy cooking up a storm and people are waiting around for food.
“Alexander, anything I can do?” Mom says from behind me, wrapping an arm around my back.
“There you are, Ma. I think we’re just about covered for now. Go enjoy yourself.”
Leaning down to kiss her cheek, bright blonde hair catches my attention in the corner of my eye. Turning to get a better look, Kristen is kneeling down next to Milo. What surprises me is she seems to be having a very animated conversation with him. He’s paying close attention to what she’s saying and responding. He’s not annoyed that she’s interrupted his reading. What are they talking about?
“You’re going to burn those burgers, Alexander, if you don’t stop staring.” Mom’s voice has me turning back to the grill.
“Shit,” flipping burgers and dogs, some are a little more done than I would have liked for the first round but oh well. Transferring everything to the containers on the table, I lay out a fresh batch and start over. This will go on for a while. I’ll be trapped behind this grill for an hour or so, maybe two, while everyone gets their fill.
By the time I get a chance to check on Kristen and Milo again, she’s gone. A pang of disappointment hits me in the chest. Seeing him smiling and so intent on their conversation means the world to me. Most people don’t go out of their way to talk to him, especially once they figure out he’s autistic. But she reached out to him, struck up a conversation, and he loved it.
As the night goes on, I can’t get Kristen out of my head. The picture of her sitting with Milo is weighing heavy on my heart. I need to talk to her, tell her how much I appreciate it.
I’m finally able to turn the grills off and enjoy the party.
JJ runs past me and gives me a high five, a hotdog in his mouth. His group of boys following along after him, some running, some on bikes. They’re probably going to go throw water balloons at the girls. I’m sure they’ve started a war by now. Smiling at all the happy faces, the pats on the back, the thank you’s, I find Alister and Ben talking to my parents close to one end of the street.
Kristen
I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING like this. The entire street has been blocked off, pink and blue kiddie pools line the street with drinks, ice, and water games. Hopscotch squares have been drawn on the street, jump ropes, hula hoops, and big bouncy balls litter the sidewalks. Kids are running around, shrieking, and laughing. Adults are standing in groups, chatting, and laughing.
For a neighborhood in a rough area, my mind is blown. Who could have paid for all this? Was it a group effort and everyone chipped in? If every neighborhood did this, the world would be a much happier place.
“Hi! You’re pretty. What’s your name?” a little girl with bouncy brown curls stands next to me, waiting for me to answer.
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�Hi, I’m Kristen, and thank you. I love your curls.”
“My name is Ivy. I’ve never seen you before and I know everyone that lives here.” This girls’ gumption reminds me of myself. She’s friendly and not afraid to ask questions.
“I don’t live here, my friend brought me.”
Now she’s skeptical. If I was younger, I would probably be intimidated by her though she doesn’t look much older than eight or nine.
“Who’s your friend?”
“Her name is Jane.”
Ivy instantly relaxes, she obviously knows Jane and is comfortable with her. Maybe she’s one of Jane’s patients?
“Officer Alex’s Mom. She’s pretty cool for a grown up.”
Now I’m confused. Officer Alex? How does she know Alex?
“How do you know Officer Alex?” My hands are itching to grab my notebook and pencil, I want to write down everything but I’m afraid if I do that, she’ll run off and stop talking to me.
“He lives right there,” she turns and points to a little blue house. “He gives really good hugs and always has water or juice on the porch in the summer.”
“Really? That’s pretty nice of him.” Taking a closer look around, Alex is standing behind the two massive grills in front of his house. What is it about a man at a grill that makes him look so sexy?
“Yeah, he’s really nice. Bye!” she waves and runs off, terminating our conversation.
Before I can forget anything, I pull out my notebook and make notes. Writing down what I’ve found out and questions I want to get answers too. When I look up again, there’s a boy sitting under a tree with a book, completely oblivious to what is happening around him.
Getting closer, I can see he’s reading The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain and I smile. That’s one of my favorite books. Kneeling on the grass next to him, he doesn’t seem to notice me.
“Hi, I’m Kristen.”
“Hi.” His eyes don’t leave the book, it makes me smile.