“If that’s what I think it is, you put that back into your pocket right now. You work hard for your tips and fixing this car for you is something I wanted to do. There’s still quite a bit of work that needs to be done to make this car safe. I know you’d say no if I offered to buy you a new car . . .”
“I’m never getting rid of this car!” she says, raising her voice. It surprises me that she’d yell and I look at her face. Her eyes fill with tears and I can read the apology all over her face.
“What’s so special about this car?” I ask gently.
She holds onto this car like it’s a living piece of her. She looks down at her fingernails and starts picking under her nails. I noticed her do that before, she does it when she has something that’s hard to say.
“It belonged to my mother. It’s the only thing I have that’s hers. I don’t know what my Aunt Molly did with everything else. This car sat in her garage for eight years after my mother died, covered with a tarp, collecting dust. I’d had enough of my aunt’s craziness and I moved out when I was eighteen. On my eighteenth birthday, we got in a huge fight and she said that if I leave, I leave only with the clothes on my back. And I did, in a heartbeat, without ever looking back. It broke my heart to leave Ruby. I met a guy shortly after that, and I think I falsely fell in love with him when I told him my life story and about my aunt. He broke into my aunt’s garage and stole Ruby. That was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. That relationship ended and I lived in fear of being pulled over and arrested for grand theft auto. About six months later, I found an envelope on my doorstep at the apartment building I was living in. In it was the title to Ruby, signed over to me free and clear from my aunt. I didn’t understand it, I still don’t. She had never given me anything but orders to clean this or iron that. Why did she give me something of my mother’s? Besides, how did she even know where I lived? There were too many unanswered questions and if I dwelled on it, I would have exploded. So I stopped asking questions and just accepted it. I finally had something that belonged to my mother. I’ve dumped more paychecks into this car to keep it running than a human being in their right mind should. I just can’t help it. If I could be buried in this car, I would be,” she says, wiping tears off her cheeks.
That did it. No matter how much it costs, Ruby will be restored. I was right this woman has been given shit her entire life. She’s had to fight for everything in her life. Not anymore. Not ever again.
“Do you have a picture of your mother?” I ask. After I ask it, I wish I could take it back. She said she doesn’t have anything of her mother’s. What if she doesn’t even have a picture?
“I do,” she says, reaching into her purse. She opens her wallet and pulls out a newspaper clipping and hands it to me. It’s creased from being folded and very worn out; it’s her mother’s obituary clipped from the local paper. My heart sinks and my anger soars toward her aunt. What would possess her aunt to be so cruel to her sister’s only daughter, the only living extension of her sister? I dig my cell phone out of my pocket, swipe my finger across the screen and turn it upside down to shine some light on the article. It’s a small color photo and it takes my breath away.
I turn to Savvy and say, “You lied when you said that Ruby was the only thing you have of your mothers. You have her eyes.”
Her eyebrows come together and tears stream down her cheeks as horrific sobs come from deep inside her. She’s crying so hard she’s gasping for air. I think she’s having a panic attack. I get out of the car and rush to open her door. I kneel down in the street to get eye level with her.
“Savvy,” I gently call. Her eyes are lost and staring straight ahead, she’s sobbing so hard she’s choking on her own tears. I touch her face, then take a thick strand of hair in my finger and give it a twirl. She instantly stops crying and her eyes come to mine. Her lungs desperately take in much needed air and I say, “Put your arms around me, baby.” Her arms go to either side of my head and lock behind me. I pull her out of the car and into my body on the street. I stand and wrap one arm under her knees and the other around her back, then kick the car door closed with my foot. She buries her face in my neck and I hold her close to my chin. “Shh, I’ve got you,” I tell her.
I dig the keys out of my pocket and enter through the front door, then kick the door closed with my foot. I walk straight back to my bedroom and place her in bed. I take off her shoes, toe off my own shoes, then get into bed with her. I pull her close and hold her sobbing body.
After about an hour she finally falls asleep. Her tiny frame still jerks with the occasional sob, but she’s finally asleep. I cover her with the sheet, then kiss her on the forehead. Her keys are still in the ignition of her car. I head back out to the street and pull Ruby into the garage. I strip out of my clothes, leaving on my boxers, and climb back in bed with Savvy. I wrap my arm around her chest; she grabs my wrist and squeezes it tight to her body. She lives with so much more hurt than I know about. Is it possible to replace a lifetime of hurt with something as simple as love?
Savvy
My eyes open and I’m in Aiden’s bed, in his secure hold, again. The thoughts of last night never left my head or my dreams. In my dreams is where I hold on to the only memories I have of my mother, and even there they’re harder and harder to see. I started to freak out when Aiden said that I have my mother’s eyes, to think that I actually do have something of my mother’s. The only thing that brought me back from a full on call the paddy wagon panic attack was Aiden twirling my hair. My mother used to do that to me all the time, it was something that I loved. I was only ten when she died from ALS. The good memories, the ones before she got sick, are sometimes hard to bring up over the memories of her in her hospice bed. “Be a good girl and listen to Aunt Molly,” she said. Those were the only words that kept me sane and living in Aunt Molly’s house until I was eighteen. “What are you afraid of?” her nurse, Ginger, asked her. My mother was afraid of dying. I was afraid of her dying, too. Back then, I loved my Aunt Molly, but I wanted my mommy. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to breathe,” my mother said. I was past afraid, because I had already stopped breathing as I listened to their conversation. “I’m afraid it will hurt,” she said next. I couldn’t imagine anything hurting more than the hurt in my heart as it shattered in my chest. In that moment, I almost thought that dying would be easier. “My daughter is too young, and my sister isn’t capable, I’m afraid of being alone,” she said. Standing there by the doorway listening to her talk, I was no longer too young, my innocence was lost. She was wrong though, she wasn’t alone. Ginger stayed with her until her very last breath holding her hand the entire time. And I was there too, just outside the door. Those were the last words my mother said, ‘I’m afraid of being alone.’
Oh my God, I’m afraid of being alone, too. Those were the last words I heard as my happy and carefree childhood ended and the next eight years of worthlessness began. But it wasn’t just the next eight years. It’s been every single year of my life ever since. I’ve gone from my aunt’s house, to a deadbeat man, to an abusive man’s house, afraid of being alone. Anything was better than being alone. The only good thing I held onto was what that nurse did for my mother. She didn’t know my mother and she didn’t treat her like it was a job that she had to do. She actually cared and held my mother’s hand until her very last breath.
“Savvy, are you alright?” Aiden asks, leaning up on his elbow.
He looks into my eyes and it’s then that I realize, I’m sobbing again.
“I’m afraid of being alone,” I tell him. I don’t know why I just told him that. I’ve only ever shared my mother’s dying words with one other person, Chloe. I think I shared it with her because of what she was going through at the time, and I saw the hurt and hopelessness in her eyes and it was a mirror image of my own.
“You’ll never be alone again. I promise you that,” Aiden says, turning me around. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me on top of him. He strokes my back and gentl
y pulls my hair off my shoulders. With my ear to his chest, I listen to his heartbeat, and it’s music to my ears.
After about twenty minutes, he kisses the top of my head and asks, “Do you have class this morning?”
I lift my head off his chest and look at the clock. I do have class in thirty minutes. I don’t even have time to take a shower. I bring my forehead to his chest and answer, “Yes.”
“I can take the day off. We can stay in bed all day if you need. I’m not letting go, Savvy.”
I sigh, because I’d like nothing more than to stay in bed with Aiden all day. But the reason I go to school, the reason I fry my brain with what seems like useless knowledge, is for my mother and for that nurse, Ginger, who made such an impression on my young life. It gives purpose to why my mother died. I will one day be that person to someone else. I will give them the gift Ginger unknowingly gave to me. I was too young and my aunt was a dipshit who couldn’t hack putting her own grief aside for the needs of her sister. If I can give just one person the gift of knowing I cared about their loved one, and gave them final peaceful moments, then everything I lived through will be for something. I will become someone else’s meaning.
“I need to get to class, I can’t miss a day,” I tell him, and start to get off of him. I never intended to get out of my car last night. My intentions were to drop him off, then I was going home. It really doesn’t matter what his sisters said last night, or the look in Aiden’s eyes whenever he sees me. They’re all better off never knowing I even existed. Aiden doesn’t let me up, he holds me on top of him with a tight squeeze.
“Look at me,” he says. I lift my face with my eyes closed and plant my chin on his chest. “Open your eyes,” he whispers. I do and look into his eyes. He places both of his hands on the side of my face and wipes the tears away with his thumbs. “You aren’t alone,” he says. “Do you get me?” he asks.
I nod my head. He lifts his head off the pillow, his lips come to mine, then he sits up. I straddle his lap and touch his morning stubble cheek. “I get you,” I whisper.
He kisses me again, then pulls away and rubs his thumb on my bottom lip. “We better get going or we’ll both be late,” he says.
I get off his lap and go to my bag on the chair. He goes into his closet and takes out a three piece dark, navy blue suit, a pastel pink shirt with a white collar, and a blue and pink stripe tie, then sets them on the bed. He takes out a wrist watch and a pair of cufflinks from his dresser and sets them next to his suit. I walk inside the ensuite bathroom and take off the clothes I wore yesterday and slip on a new pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I give my pits a quick discrete smell and pray they don’t smell like a wildebeest sitting in the hot sun in Africa. I slap on some deodorant then go brush my teeth. My cosmetic bag is still sitting on the counter from yesterday, but I can’t find my toothbrush anywhere in the bag. I look on the counter and it’s sitting in a toothbrush holder alongside Aiden’s. This is one crazy family, and I don’t know where these men learned supersonic lightning speed relationships, but I secretly thank them.
Aiden comes in the bathroom wearing a white undershirt and the trousers to his suit. He walks to the other sink and brushes his teeth, and then he flosses. Funny, I’ve never been in a relationship with a man who flosses. He swishes some mouthwash in his mouth and spits as I watch in awe. He sees me watching him, smiles at me, kisses me on the cheek, then leaves the bathroom. Now I’ve wasted about ten of my thirty minutes gawking at Aiden again, I need to get ready.
I throw my hair up on the top of my head in a messy knot, then I go at the bruises on my face with concealer like a mad woman. I dab on some eyeliner and mascara, grab some floss and floss my own teeth. Floss together, stay together . . . maybe.
When I walk back out into the bedroom, Aiden is gone and so is the rest of his suit. I walk into the kitchen where he’s pouring coffee into two travel mugs. Shit, I forgot to bring back his other mug. He takes his suit jacket from the back of the kitchen chair and puts it on. He grabs his briefcase and my school bag and asks, “Are you ready to go?” handing me a coffee cup.
I smile, take the coffee mug from him, grab his off the counter, and follow him out into the garage. Ruby is sitting next to Jade, but I distinctly remember leaving her on the street last night.
He holds open the door and I get into Jade. I plop our coffee mugs in the cup holders. We drive to school drinking coffee. Occasionally he glances my way with a smile or puts his hand on my leg, which is nice. He drops me off at school and says he’ll pick me up at five. I go to my first class with a smile and hope in my heart that I haven’t felt since I was a little girl.
Chapter 5
Aiden
On my way into the office, I drive by Savvy’s condo to see if the brown Chevy is hanging around. No brown Chevy, and there doesn’t seem to be anything out of place, so I head to work. I park in the underground garage and take the elevator to my floor. The second I get in my office, even before I can put my briefcase on my desk, Asher comes in.
“Knock knock. Do you have a minute?” he asks, knocking a knuckle on my door.
“I always have a minute,” I tell him.
“Please tell me you’re good for more than just one minute?” Asher asks with a smirk.
“Dude, we’re at work. And I can go all night long,” I tell him.
“In your dreams,” he says smugly.
“Is there a reason you’re bugging me at nine in the morning?” I ask.
“This merger with Stran Corp. isn’t going well. We have some major issues and I think you’re going to have to take a trip to Chicago to iron them all out,” he says.
About a month ago, Asher put in an offer to buy Stran Corp. The deal was accepted, but some of the contingencies aren’t being met.
“This isn’t a good time for me to be leaving. Can you send Ava?” I ask.
Ava recently joined Wellington Corp. after leaving a prestigious law firm. I’m actually relieved she’s here, she’s been a huge help.
“This is more in the area of your expertise than hers,” he replies. I’ve always been a corporate lawyer, where Ava has more general experience. “Is this about Savvy? How’s she doing?” he asks.
I start pulling out files from my briefcase, then stop and look at him. “Why does it take women so long to see what we see?” I ask.
“Man, your guess is as good as mine. I’m with you. You know it when you feel it,” he says, patting his chest.
I honestly didn’t believe that until that night at the bar.
“She’s got a lot of issues to work out. She’s been staying at my house for the past few days. Have you heard anything from Max about Reno?” I ask him.
“I haven’t heard anything, but no news is good news, right? Look, don’t worry about going to Chicago. I’ll see what we can do from here, and if I have to, I’ll send Ava. You take care of what you need to take care of. You need anything, you ask. Call Max, see if he’s got any news for you,” he says, and leaves my office.
I take my cell phone out of my briefcase and call Max.
“Yo,” he answers.
“Do you have any news for me?” I ask him.
“I’ve got it under control. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Keep Savvy with you at your house until you hear otherwise,” he says, and hangs up.
I sit down in my chair. Two seconds later, Ava walks into my office. “Oh for crying out loud,” I say, and stand.
“Sit down. Don’t get your panties in a wad. I want to talk to you about something from last night,” she says, and takes a seat in a chair across from my desk.
“What happened last night?” I ask concerned, sitting down.
“It’s not exactly what happened, but something Savvy said,” she says.
“Go on,” I push.
“She said that she’s not like us, and that she’s last week’s trash. We tried to set her straight, but I think she has some pretty deep emotional scars and I think you need to be gentle with her heart. I can
see by the look on your face that you see the same thing I see,” she says.
“You don’t have a clue what I see,” I say angrily.
“Panties. Bunch. Chill. I was going to say, that for her to put that smile on your face and that same love in your eyes that I feel for Jax, that she’s priceless. She’s not trash, and I’m happy for you both,” she says.
“I know it’s only been a few days, but really, she’s been a part of this family since Chloe introduced all of us. If I have it my way, I plan on showing her for the rest of my life just how priceless she is,” I tell her.
“I honestly believe you’ll make that happen,” she says, winks, then leaves my office.
I work through lunch to make sure I get all of my work done, and leave at four forty-five. I pull up to the spot where I dropped Savvy off this morning and she’s sitting on a bench with her nose buried in a book. I open my door and step out of the car. The noise from the door opening gets her attention. Her face comes up and lights my world. She smiles, packs her messenger bag, and walks to the car.
We both get in at the same time, and an idea hits me as I drive off.
“Do you have to work at the bar tonight?” I ask.
“No, I don’t have to work until Friday night,” she answers.
“Do you have homework you need to do?” I ask.
“I always have homework to do, but it won’t take that long. Why?” she asks.
“Have you ever been to a drive-in?” I ask, getting on the freeway.
“Is that like a drive thru? Like for dinner?” she asks innocently.
Again, I can’t help it, I laugh. She’s like a baby just learning to walk. The things that come out of her mouth light my belly on fire.
“Are you laughing at me again? Man, I’m sure glad someone finds what I say funny,” she says laughing at herself.
Unexpected Chance Page 6