by Liz Lovelock
Take that, you pathetic excuse of a man!
I look around to see the officers looking my way, but they don’t come toward me. It actually looks like they enjoyed the show.
“Oww, you bitch!” he yells while clutching his nose. I don’t think it’s broken, but it is pouring out blood. Man that makes me feel much better seeing him in pain. I nearly laugh in his face, but think better of it. It was a dumb thing to do, but I feel so much anger toward him, and he deserves every bit of pain that comes his way.
“Don’t you ever speak to us again, and you have no right talking about Abby at all. It’s your fault she’s gone!” I yell at him as my mother grabs my arm, pulling me out of the courtroom doors. “You may have got off today, but we know the truth!” I continue yelling at him.
“Stop, Melodi, you’re going to make things worse. Abby wouldn’t want you to be like this,” I hear Mum say as she finally gets me out the doors and into the parking lot before I can do more damage.
We walk to the car in silence. I notice Dad waiting for us near the car, pacing, anger written all over his face, his eyes glazed over with hate. I have never seen him looking so outraged in all my life. I look at Mum and see she’s fighting off tears. I wish there’s something I could do to take away their pain.
“I’m sorry, Mum. I know I shouldn’t have done that. Something in me snapped and it just happened.” I grab her, stopping her from walking any further. I pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her. We stand there for a short time, holding each other, giving the support we both need right now. Dad comes over, joining in on the hug, and supports Mum and me while we cry. He always tries to be the strong one.
Mum pulls me out at arm’s length, looking at me with a mischievous smile on her face. She has red eyes and blotchy cheeks, but there’s a little shining light in her eyes. Looking toward Dad, she says, “You would be super proud of the punch she just gave that lowlife, honey.” She gives a sad chuckle, which sets me off giggling.
Dad looks surprised and confused. Then he pulls me into a Dad bear hug with a laugh. It feels good to be smiling and laughing with Mum and Dad again. I know it will take a while to get over our loss, but we have each other.
“Wish I could have seen it,” he beams proudly.
We let go, walking to the car.
“I love you, Mum and Dad.”
“We love you too, honey. We’re always here for you, no matter what. We need, more now than ever, to stick together,” Mum says, taking my hand giving it a light squeeze.
Someone standing near us clears their throat. “Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. White?” We all turn to face a police officer standing before us. My heart sinks.
Oh, gosh, that punch has come back be bite me on the arse.
I look to Mum and Dad, who look concerned, as I’m sure I do too.
“Yes, that’s us,” my dad says formally. “Can we help you?”
The police officer looks really nervous as I watch small sweat beads forming on his brow. He looks young, maybe too young to be a police officer. Perhaps he’s a newbie. He has a strong build, about six foot tall, jet black hair, and bright green, sad but kind eyes. Maybe it isn’t to do with my incident.
“Ah… yes, I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am for your loss. I…” his voice catches as though he’s on the verge of tears, and he clears his throat, “… I knew Abby. I met her one day at the park. I was doing my normal rounds and I saw her sitting there alone… crying. I approached her and noticed bruises on her arms. We got to talking and I tried to get her to put out a Domestic Violence Order out on this guy and she said she would. I even gave her my number if she ever needed anything. I’m terribly sorry I didn’t do more.” He hangs his head in shame. Each word spoken is low and touches my heart.
I’m on the verge of tears and my mother has tears streaming down her face, but Dad stands tall and walks over to the young, handsome police officer.
“What’s your name, son?” Dad asks.
“Blake Johnson, sir.” His voice shakes from the emotion, or fear—I’m not sure. I do know my dad can be a scary person sometimes.
Blake is taken completely by surprise when Dad, who is not a hugging kind of guy, pulls him into a short, manly hug. A lump forms in my throat at the sight of two grown men shedding a few tears.
“You did what you could, son. Don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s no one’s fault but that lowlife’s sitting in that courtroom now with a broken nose… hopefully.” He beams proudly at me. I give a weak smile.
“I know. I guess I will always think I could… no should… have done more to help her.”
“It’s all right. Just pick yourself up and go help those you can help now. Don’t live in the past.”
“Thank you, sir.” He stretches out his hand and Dad takes it. Blake then turns toward Mum and me. “You and your sister are both beautiful women. She talked about all of you that day, how much she loved you and appreciated all your support and encouragement. She was smiling when I left her,” he says with a sad smile of his own. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Mum and I are standing here with tears still flowing down our face. I’m so grateful he approached us. To know she felt our love and found this stranger to confide in makes me happy. Hearing she still had smiling moments lifts some of the weight off my heart.
We both hug this stranger and thank him for his kind words. He walks away looking a little more relieved than he did before he approached us. I leave feeling the first glimmer of peace since the night Abby disappeared.
Beep, beep. I hear my phone go off. I groan, rolling over, and reaching out for it on the bedside table. I open my eyes a little, noticing it’s still dark out. I groan again in frustration.
Who messages this early?
Squinting at the brightness, I try to see who the message is from through blurry eyes.
Mum: Hey, honey, good luck with the job interview today. I will call you later.
Love you!
Mum and Dad xo
P.S. Sorry, I know it’s early.
Trust Mum to message me at this time of the morning. Looking at the time and discover it’s five a.m. “Are you kidding me? Come on, Mum. You knew I would be sleeping.” Feeling a little frustrated, I know Mum’s working early shifts at the hospital, but she could have just rung me later.
It’s been a month since I moved to New York. I needed a change. Plus, I needed to get the bad memories of my hometown out of my mind and living there was always a constant reminder of what had happened to Abby.
The anniversary of her death is coming up soon. I miss her every day and the pain is still unbearable at times. I find myself waking up crying some nights. The memory of that part of my life is always fresh in my mind, a constant reminder to never trust a guy, no matter how great he may seem.
It was our shared dream to move to New York, work and party it up while we were young. Maybe even travel around a little. We always had a fascination with Europe, especially Italy, but now it’s just me. I feel lost and alone some days.
I have met some great people since moving here. There’s Felicity, or Flick, as I like to call her. She works at the recruitment company that I applied to when I first moved here. We clicked right away. She loves hearing me talk with my Aussie accent. My family moved to America when Abby and I were eighteen. Dad got a transfer in the Army, so we moved to Philadelphia. Dad was away most of the time, but Mum, Abby, and I settled in pretty well in our new home state. It’s just Mum and Dad at home now since Dad retired. We got our green cards and decided to stay.
Flick figured I knew nothing about New York, which I didn’t, so she took me under her wing, showing me the great restaurants, nightclubs, and the best shopping spots. I can’t believe the hot guys around. I still keep my distance, but can’t help looking.
She has been putting my name in for all the high paying jobs, which is great, although nothing has come of it yet.
Hopefully, today will be my lucky day, I think as my st
omach begins swarming with butterflies at the thought of today’s interview. The meeting is with Case Constructions, a building development company, as a Personal Assistant to the head honcho. I know there will be plenty of other worthy applicants. Here’s hoping.
Then there is Liam, smart, sexy, funny Liam. I get a little heart flutter thinking about him. We met on my first night out on the town with Flick. It was a pretty big night, with lots of tequila shots and dancing. Next thing I remember is waking up at home with Flick beside me in my bed. I walked into the living area and nearly died at the sight of this unknown shirtless guy asleep on my couch. Totally freaked, I ran back to my room, waking Flick up. I literally had to lift her up by her shoulders to shake her awake. While still half asleep, she proceeded to tell me how I’d invited him to stay, as his place was an hour out of town. And so began the adventures of Flick, Liam, and Melodi.
Liam is a legal aid. I’m sure he has a thing for Flick, and either she’s blind or just isn’t interested. When they’re together, they flirt like nobody’s business. But then if there’s another guy who shows interest, she brushes Liam off—the poor fella. I think I might need to intervene there a little, but right now, I think I should get a few more hours sleep. Rolling over, placing my phone back on to the bedside table, and pulling my blankets up, I snuggle back into my large comfy bed.
Then the wonderful feeling of wandering off into dreamland sets in.
Glancing at my watch for the hundredth time, I struggle to sit still. There’s still three girls to go, plus myself. There were seven of us here for interviews. Nerves are beginning to kick in. My stomach feels likes there’s a million butterflies waiting to escape up to my throat and out my mouth.
Case Constructions is in a big, snazzy, high-rise building. It has maybe thirty floors, although, not all are Case Construction. I was worried that I might not get off on the right floor it’s that big.
I really hate interviews, but I really need this job. I can’t keep relying on Mum and Dad to pay for everything, especially my nights out on the town.
When I walked into the room where the other girls were waiting, I felt all their eyes on me, kind of like they were sizing me up. I took the first seat closest to the door. That way, I was out of the line of fire from all the judgemental looks, not only toward me but toward each other.
Some are pretty, well groomed, and are probably hoping to get the job based solely on their looks. Then there’s the average girl, the one who has her hair pulled back into a simple ponytail, along with her basic black pencil skirt and red silk, button-up shirt.
Okay, maybe there’s only one girl like that—me.
I’m your average girl and the rest are the rich bitch looking types.
As each agonising minute ticks by, I watch as all the other girls go in before me, all leaving giggly and confident.
Seriously, why did I even try?
I’m sure one of these girls are sure to get this job.
I can’t sit still anymore. It’s me and one other girl remaining. I’m ready to get up and pace the room, or run laps, actually. I’m not a silly girl. I know how people with companies as large as Case Constructions prefer the supermodel type who have the perfect face, which attracts more business to their company. I’m not saying I’m ugly. I’m happy in my own skin, and if these people aren’t happy with me, then it’s their loss.
“Melodi White?” I hear a lady call from the doorway. I glance up and watch her walk in. She’s maybe in her thirties and has a kind face.
“Yes, that’s me.” My shaking hands reach for my folder. Nerves kicking into overdrive once again, I take a deep breath, hoping to calm myself and then walk toward her.
I reach the doorway, and she extends her hand toward me. “Hi, I’m Helen. I’m the Human Resources Coordinator for Case Constructions, and I will be on the interview panel today.”
I take her hand, hoping she doesn’t notice my clammy palms.
“Have you filled out your paperwork? And do you have any questions at all about it?”
Handing the folder over, I answer, “Hi, here’s the paperwork. I didn’t have any problems, but I may have missed something. Please let me know if anything isn’t correct.” I can’t seem to calm my nerves no matter what I do and my voice is quavering slightly. Maybe once I’m in there and the interview begins, I might calm down.
“That’s great. Please follow me.” She turns and walks down a hallway. It’s so silent, apart from the clicking of our heels on the tiled floor. She stops, and then holds open a door for me. Walking in, my heart drops to ground floor.
So much for my nerves settling down. In front of me are three other interviewers. There’s another lady and two men sitting behind a table, with notebooks and bottles of water in front of them, and a telephone. Helen takes her place among them. There’s a lone, daunting seat placed in front of them. I stay standing until I’m told otherwise.
“Please, be seated,” says the grumpy old man with grey hair and wrinkly skin. He must be over this whole event.
“Thank you,” I reply, taking my seat.
“Hello, Ms. White,” says the other woman beside Helen. She seems very professional and an upfront type of person, but her eyes give the vibe of being just plain unkind or uncaring.
I might need to steer clear of her.
“I’m Jenny Ford, Office Manager. This is Helen, the HR Manager.” Then pointing to the old man, she says, “Tim is Executive Assistant and beside him is Jared, Chief Financial Officer.” She points toward the young fella on the end who looks too young to be in that position. “And on telephone conference we have our CEO, Mr. Andrews.”
“Good Morning,” I address them all in my most professional voice, trying not to sound how my insides feel. I begin to fidget, tangling my fingers together and untangling then repeating, something I do to calm myself in certain situations, and this is one of those kinds of situations.
Deep down, I’m hoping I answer their questions in a pleasing manner. They all greet me and then turn their attention to making notes.
What could they seriously be writing down? The questions haven’t even begun yet!
Helen takes over now. “So, please, tell us a bit about your previous employment?” she asks, preparing her pen to make more notes.
Taking a deep breath, I reply, “I worked in a law firm as personal assistant to one of the partners. I’d been there for about a year before deciding to move to New York.”
“And what were your sole responsibilities?”
“I assisted the partner by booking his appointments, answering phone calls, minutes for meetings, booking flights and accommodation for business trips, and preparing notes and paperwork for all meetings. Those are the main things I undertook, as well as general admin duties,” I answer confidently.
For the next half hour, the questions keep coming from each of the interviewers. Answering them, I try to lighten the mood with a few little giggles and smiles here and there. All in all, it’s a very good interview. I feel quite pleased with myself, although the big CEO on the phone never spoke, which I found odd. You’d think he’d be the one with all the questions, seeing as it could be him I end up working for.
With the interview finished, I shake their hands. “Thank you for the opportunity,” I say, turning toward the door.
Leaving the building, I pull out my phone and call Flick. I promised I’d call when it finished, but it goes to her message bank. “Hey, it’s me. Sooo… the interview went well. They’ll contact me in the next week to let me know the outcome, although I’m not too hopeful. Will fill you in later, catch ya.”
****
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I’m a wife, mother, reader, blogger, and now an author. I’m always busy doing something as I have so much going on, and my three little ones keep me on my toes.
I’m from bright and sunny Queensland, Australia. I have always been a reader. When I was little, I would be up late reading Garfield and Asterix comic books and also Footrot Flats. When I hit high school, they gave us Tomorrow When the War Began by John Marsden, and from there my love of books continued to grow.
I keep a notebook and pen beside my bed for when those late-night ideas pop into my head, plus I’m a stationery addict and love pens, notebooks, and, well, anything stationery.
I’ll say sorry first in case I miss anyone.
I’d like to thank my editor—Anna from Creating Ink and to my proofreader, Jenn from Jenn Lockwood Editing. Without you ladies, I’d be thoroughly lost. You’ve both pushed me with this one. Thank you for fitting me in on short notice and polishing up my work to make it squeaky clean. You’re awesome! Thanks for all your advice and guidance.
A huge thank you to Ben from Be Designs for designing the perfect cover and working with me until I was happy. It is everything I wanted it to be. I love it!
Thanks, Reggie Deanching, for a beautiful photograph of Ryan Stacks and Anna Harmon. You’re all amazing.
These next mentions are my other halves in the author world. Without their constant support and friendship, I may have given up a long time ago. They’re my cyber sisters spread far and wide around Australia and America, so thank you to Jemma Brown aka JB Heller, KE Osborn, Kaylene Osborn, and Belle Brooks. These ladies are truly amazing. I’d be lost without our chats.