If I Could Stay

by Annette K. Larsen

  “Gotcha. Well, I live two doors down in 207, so if you need help putting furniture together at some point, let me know. I think we have a hammer somewhere.” She waved her hand in the air, clearly unconcerned about the precise location of said hammer.

  “We?”

  “I live with my sister. Is it just you here?”

  “Yeah, I’m kind of an uber introvert.” By choice, not by nature.

  She grinned. “Don’t tell my sister that. She’ll think of it as a challenge.”

  “Noted.” I stood there, feeling awkward for a minute until her clothing caught my eye again. “Is this a work uniform?”

  She looked down at herself like she had forgotten she was wearing a poodle skirt and saddle shoes. “Oh. Yeah. I’m a waitress at Galaxy. You can probably guess what the theme is.” She gave a cheesy smile along with some jazz hands.

  I snorted a laugh. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

  She didn’t respond and neither did I, so we were back to the awkward. I reached into a bag and pulled things out to give me something to do. I didn’t want to kick her out, but I also sucked at getting to know people.

  “I’ve got to go change before I go to class,” she said a moment later, and I breathed an inward sigh of relief. “I’ll see you around.”

  I walked over to see her out. “Thanks for helping with the chair. Not sure why it was trying to make a break for it.”

  “Not a problem.” She opened the door. “Bye.”

  “Bye,” I said with as much friendliness as I could muster. She really was nice, and it was probably a good idea for me to get used to interacting with people like a normal person. After all, I would be a full-fledged college student in a few months.

  I closed the door and went about the task of putting everything away. My cabinet organization was completely arbitrary since I just wanted everything off the floors and counter. Once I’d stashed all the kitchen and bathroom stuff away, I dragged my duffel to the bedroom and hung up my clothes. I had never gone back to Adeline’s house, so all of my fancy Goodwill duds had been left behind. My wardrobe now consisted of the things I’d picked up during the two weeks I’d stayed in Colorado, as well as the few outfits that had come from Renee and what I’d bought in Kansas City. As I hung up the soft cream leather jacket she had given me (and which I hadn’t been able to bring myself to wear), I saw a piece of paper sticking out of the pocket. A sigh escaped me. I didn’t know if I wanted to deal with this or not, but I pulled it out anyway.

  You can call me at this number. Leave a message and I’ll call back.

  A phone number was scribbled beneath the message.

  Renee. Renee had left me a lifeline.

  Part of me was tempted to toss it aside, refuse to ever contact her again. Instead, I hid it carefully away before putting away the rest of my clothes.

  ***

  I enrolled at Northern Arizona University with plans to major in musical performance because it was the only thing I knew I could be good at.

  Then I had to buy a violin. That prospect both excited and terrified me. I itched to play again, but the violin had been so much a part of my life with my father that I worried I wouldn’t be able to separate the good from the bad.

  As I stood in the middle of the music shop, the bow in my fingers, the violin tucked against my shoulder, a calm settled over me. Drawing the bow across the strings for the first time in more than four years was like coming home—to the very best part of home.

  I wish I could say that I was able to perfectly play the sonata I had memorized at sixteen, but I was far from it. My fingers didn’t have the strength they used to and my all-around technique was rusty. Still, I happily tried out several models before purchasing one.

  My summer would be spent reacquainting myself with it. My head remembered everything. Reading music and knowing the fingerings wasn’t the problem, but retraining my fingers would take time, not only to make them stronger but to reprogram my muscle memory.

  Having the violin in hand as I made my way home brought an unexpected surge of pride. I was doing something proactive, trying to reclaim my life, which was exactly what I needed to be focused on. I had all my safety measures in place. My one extra ID was safely tucked away in a bus locker in Snowflake, a small town a couple hours away, along with my extra cash and the ledger I had taken from my father. The clothing that Renee had given me had all been carefully checked for any trackers or bugs, and the phone she’d given me for emergencies had never been turned on. I had done everything I could. Now it was time to push forward into…whatever came next.

  ***

  This apartment had belonged to me for all of two weeks now, and along with a Goodwill couch and bed, I had finally bought a cute shower curtain to go over the regular plastic liner. I was in the middle of hanging it when a knock sounded at the door. My limbs froze for a moment before I carefully stepped down off the edge of the tub and padded silently down the hallway, grabbing the bat I had purchased at Walmart just a few hours before. I approached the door from the side, listened, and then slid in front of the peephole to see who was there.

  I let out a breath of relief. It was Nina. I set the bat aside and opened the door. “Hi,” I greeted.

  She pulled one hand out of her back pocket where it had been resting and gave a little wave. “Hey. We have too much pizza. You should come eat with us.”

  “Um.” How did one respond to such an abrupt invitation?

  “Charlotte’s all about being neighborly, and you’re one of the few single gals that live here, and sometimes we get sick of each other, so if you wouldn’t mind saving us from another ‘sisterly’”—yes, she did air quotes—“fight, we’d appreciate it. Unless you’ve already eaten.”

  “Oh.” That was a lot to take in. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Great, let’s go.”

  Okay. Apparently I was going to go hang out with the other single ladies. Suddenly Beyonce was singing in my head. I grabbed my keys and slipped on some flip-flops then locked the door before following Nina to her apartment.

  As soon as we walked in, the flaming redhead I assumed was Charlotte squealed and ran over to give me a hug. I fought the urge to ward her off with a defensive hold—I was going for normal, after all.

  She squeezed me and rocked back and forth. It was weird. “I’m so excited to finally meet you!” she effused in a sing-song voice before pulling back. “Your name is Sage, right?”

  Man, was I glad for the reminder. Her friendly assault had done a number on my ability to think coherently. “Yes, that’s right. And you’re Charlotte?”

  She waved that off. “Call me Charlie, please.” She stepped back and gestured toward the couches. “Come in. Come in.”

  I took a seat and noticed the two large pizzas sitting on the coffee table, along with paper plates, cups, napkins, and a couple of two-liter bottles of soda. “Did someone cancel on you guys? This is a ton of food for the two of you.”

  Nina flipped a box open and grabbed a slice. “Charlie wanted to meet you. This was her way of subtly inviting you.” She rolled her eyes, but Charlie just smiled, unabashed.

  I grabbed a slice of pizza and sat back, noticing how similar they looked while also seeming completely different. Nina’s hair was more of an auburn and confined to a ponytail. Charlie’s was super red and I could tell she loved her curls, which she had left down.

  “So, tell us about you.” Charlie sat forward, her plate balanced on her lap and she waited, wide-eyed, for my response.

  I continued to chew, deliberately trying to hide the mini panic attack that was happening inside me.

  “Did you transfer from a different college or what?”

  I went nearly limp with relief. School I could talk about. Future plans I could talk about. I could even give them a little (fake) backstory, so as long as they didn’t want to deep dive into my made-up past, we should get along just fine. “Actually, this will be my first year of college. I’ve been spending the past se
veral years working and saving.”

  “Major?”

  “Musical performance, eventually.” Once I went through the process of applying and auditioning. “What about you guys?”

  With Charlie’s bubbly personality, I expected her to say elementary education, but she surprised me with, “Chemistry. I want to be a chemical engineer.”

  I widened my eyes and nodded, impressed, before turning to Nina.

  “I’m just taking generals right now,” she said before sipping from her Solo cup of soda.

  Charlie rolled her eyes. “She’s going to be pre-law.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “You shouldn’t trash your plans just because Brad was an idiot.”

  This sounded like a familiar and ongoing argument. I probably shouldn’t comment, but I decided to let myself be nosy. “So there’s a Brad? And he’s an idiot?”

  Nina said “No” at the same time Charlie said “Yes.”

  “He’s not an idiot, Charlie. He’s brilliant. You know that.” Nina stuffed a bite in her mouth.

  “Smart people can be just as idiotic as dumb people, and anyone who feels threatened by their girlfriend pursuing the same career as him is an idiot.”

  “He just didn’t want it to turn into a competition.”

  Charlie dropped her head into her hands. “He broke up with you three months ago and you’re still defending him.”

  I had to ask. “He broke up with you because you both wanted to be lawyers?”

  She winced. “Well…”

  “Yes!” Charlie pointed at me while looked at Nina. “See! She knows how idiotic that is.”

  Nina slumped down in her chair with a groan. “Next topic!” she declared.

  Apparently that was like calling a truce, because Charlie immediately dropped it and moved on to something else.

  As the evening progressed, I laughed—a lot. It felt good to be in the middle of the sisters’ squabbling. I left their apartment with a grin, but by the time I reached my own door, it had faded. I missed Renee. I missed what we could have had.

  I unlocked my door with a sigh and went immediately to the bathroom to finish hanging the shower curtain.

  ***

  My attempts at staying focused solely on building a new life were thwarted by the constant reminder of Jack. He had begged me to call him and let him know I was okay, and as much as I tried to tell myself that any contact would be too dangerous, I couldn’t stop my mind from coming up with ways that I could make it work.

  Maybe he’d forgotten all about me. Maybe he’d realized he was better off without me and been glad to wash his hands of the whole situation. Then again, maybe he thought about me as much as I thought about him. And if that was the case, the idea that he had already spent six weeks needlessly worrying about me ate at my resolve and pricked my conscience.

  So I drove the two and a half hours down to Phoenix on a Saturday. I stepped out of the car into the oven that was the Valley of the Sun, wondering what possessed people to live in this barren wasteland, and went inside the convenience store to purchase a couple snacks and a burner phone. Then I climbed back into my car and found a park where I could sit and make the phone call.

  I powered up the phone and tapped his number into it. I had memorized it long ago. Then I waited, my hands shaking, waiting to see if he would pick up.

  His voice came over the line, but it was his voicemail, so I took a steadying breath and waiting for the beep before diving in.

  “Hi, Jack. It’s me.” I wished I could say “It’s Leila,” but I couldn’t bring myself to leave a recording admitting to my identity. “I’m settled. And I’m safe.” I looked around at the oppressive cement and heat that defined Phoenix and was again grateful that I had decided to stay in Flagstaff. “This new city is beautiful.” I didn’t want to hang up, but what else could I say? “I miss our movie nights. It’s a shame I never made you watch Warm Bodies. It’s the only horror movie I’ve ever liked.” I let out a pathetic chuckle. “You’d probably hate it.” I chewed on my lip, casting about for something else to say. “I hope that Adeline is doing all right. I certainly didn’t mean to leave her in a bad spot, especially after how nice she was to me.” I wanted to tell him I was going to school, but I was worried that I would give too much information, so I kept my mouth shut. “I hope you’re okay. And I’m so sorry I dragged you into this mess. You don’t deserve any of this, and probably the last thing you need is for me to be calling you right now. But you said you wanted to know I was okay, so…I’m okay.” That was really all there was so say. “Bye, Jack.”

  After hanging up, I stared at the phone for a moment, wondering what he would think of my rambling message. Then I turned it over and pulled the battery out. As much as I wanted to trust that Jack wouldn’t track me, I couldn’t take the risk. This phone would never be turned on when I was at home, only when I could make time to come down here and find a new spot to make my calls.

  I rested my hand on the gear shift, ready to pull out and head back to Flagstaff, but I hesitated. Renee had given me the phone for emergencies, to contact her if I needed to. But what if she had contacted me and I didn’t know because I hadn’t yet checked it for messages?

  I reached into my go-bag, which now resided behind my passenger seat instead of in the trunk, and pulled out the phone she’d given me. Hope bubbled up for just a moment before the screen lit up and showed nothing. No messages. I waited a few minutes more. Maybe it just needed a minute to really think, but I knew that wasn’t the case, so I removed the battery and put it back where it belonged.

  ***

  I’d left Missouri six weeks ago, stayed in Colorado for two, and had now lived in Flagstaff nearly a month. My new routine was starting to feel normal. I had a job. Nina had convinced me to apply at Galaxy, and each day, as I stood in front of my full-length mirror, I couldn’t help the mocking smile as I studied my reflection. At least I wasn’t likely to be recognized in this getup. Poodle skirts and high ponytails weren’t exactly my modus operandi.

  I had considered getting a job as a car attendant on the Grand Canyon Railway, but figured that would involve being in contact with people from all over the country, so I decided to stick with something more typical of a college student. Plus I got to work with Nina, who was the closest thing to a regular friend that I’d had in a long time. It also gave me fewer free evenings, which meant a lot fewer opportunities for Charlie to try to set me up on blind dates. I couldn’t fault her taste in men—they were nice enough, and attractive enough—but finding a man was nowhere on my radar at the moment. Still it was fun to get out with Nina and Charlie. Slide Rock down in Sedona was one of their favorites, and I had to admit, the natural water slide was a lot of fun.

  The routine of having a job wasn’t enough though. I needed to get back into training. The fact that Renee’s guys had been able to take me had made that clear. I had studied aikido off and on for the past four years. When I settled in Seattle after leaving my father, I was only barely able to scratch the surface of the discipline before I had to flee again. I’d taken a solid year of training in Los Angeles. During that time, I had started to feel in control again—like I actually had a say in what happened to me. I’d trained for almost the entire nine months I’d been in Houston as Claire Maquire, as well as during my time in Baton Rouge. I’d worked hard to become proficient, and I needed to get back to that feeling again.

  Just walking into the dojo off of Aspen Avenue gave me a sense of control. I couldn’t wait to get back on the mats, to see what I could do. Aikido was all about self-defense. It wasn’t a discipline of attack. I had no desire to punch someone’s lights out or truly hurt them in any way. Aikido was about not allowing yourself to be a victim. Not exactly a shock that I would gravitate to such a thing.

  I signed up for classes, met a couple of trainers, and walked out with a sense of accomplishment and anticipation.

  14

  JUNE

  The middle of June was n
ot the time of year I wanted to be in Phoenix, but it had been more than five weeks since I’d left Jack the message, and I was going to make myself crazy if I didn’t get a chance to turn on my phone and see if he had called me back.

  Instead of staying north of Phoenix like I had last time, I went farther south, to Chandler, just as an extra precaution. I had considered going somewhere else, maybe going North of Flagstaff up to Page, or even going into New Mexico. But if I kept picking destinations that were a couple hours away from Flagstaff, I’d end up circling my real location. It seemed better to just scatter my calls around Phoenix in the hopes that if someone could track me, they would assume I was hiding there.

  It was mid-afternoon, so the restaurant I found was fairly empty. I ate first, trying not to stuff my face too much in my rush to check my phone. Once I had finished eating and signed the receipt, I pulled out my burner phone and reconnected the battery. My hands were trembling and my stomach was uneasy at the prospect of what I might find when the phone powered up.

  There was a chance Jack had received my message and then written me off as not worth the effort, but that was doubtful. I thought it much more likely (and I really hoped) that he had tried to call me back and left a message.

  When the notifications finally popped up, I had to choke down a giddy squeal.

  Three new voicemails. The first was dated the same day I’d left him my first message. I pushed play and clutched the phone to my ear, closing my eyes to hear better.

  “Hi, Celeste.” I smiled thinking of how much he must have hated calling me that. “I have no idea if you’ll get this message or not. I really hope you do, and I hope you’ll call me again. You don’t ever have to apologize for contacting me, and you didn’t drag me into anything. I was a willing participant. You don’t need to tell me any details, I just want to know you’re okay.” There was a pause, and then, “Okay, that’s a lie. I want to know a lot more than that, but I will try my best to be satisfied with just knowing you’re okay. So just…” I bent my head, ready to catch whatever he said. “Be safe. Please.”