by Stacey Lynn
Bonus: The bathroom had a separate, huge soaking tub. I’d almost cried when I saw it and I’d taken a bath every day since.
The building was eight stories. I was on floor five with a view facing west which meant I got to wake up every morning with a view of the city and go to sleep at night with the sun setting behind it. Samaya was on floor two. With the underground garage, she and her kids would never have to shovel snow off her 2005 Nissan Altima again or worry about it getting broken into.
She moved in the day after me, unable to help herself. Apparently, she didn’t have to think too hard about her choice, but I was glad I knew someone here other than Hudson.
Not that I’d seen him at all in the last few days.
The last time I saw Hudson was Saturday afternoon, the day after he showed me this place. He showed up at noon, shortly after I woke up from my overnight shift and declared he was there to help me move. Together, we loaded all my simple belongings into the bed of the truck. Other than my worn clothes and a couple torn duffel bags, the only other supplies I wanted to keep were my laundry hamper and my meager amount of pantry goods and frozen dinners.
My newly furnished apartment had everything else. It was almost depressing, seeing how little I owned, and even most of that was given to me from the halfway house or Goodwill.
Hudson never said a word and he never once acted like me having barely enough belongings to fill the back seat of a sedan, much less the bed of a pickup, was anything worth being embarrassed about.
It took three trips to get everything out of the truck and once it was done, he gave me the keys, the security code, and left me to unpack.
I hadn’t seen him in the few days since.
Saturday night, I cooked a meal in a kitchen that had more than three feet of countertop space and went to bed on a mattress without lumps for the first time in seven years. And it was a queen-sized bed. I hadn’t had that much room in a bed in years.
He’d handed me a gift, and while I didn’t fully trust there weren’t strings attached that would someday be pulled so harshly they would swipe me off my feet, I was trying to ignore it. To see the good in all of this.
I had a safe home to live. A respectable home. I was near graduating with my two-year degree and had an opportunity to be respected among people who not only knew my past, but weren’t turned away by it.
It gave me hope others, someday, might understand.
I was so excited I went and bought a disposable camera, took a full roll of pictures, had them developed and sent them off yesterday along with one letter to my parents, even knowing the effort was futile. Unable to throw them away, they were now tucked in a shoebox in my massive closet. My clothes only filled twenty percent of it.
I had no doubt this one would be returned as well, but for some stupid reason, I couldn’t stop trying. I wanted them to know I was well even if they’d been the ones to rip all my goodness away.
The other letter went to Candace. She’d smile at the pictures, grumble about how no man could be trusted when she read my explanation of how I came into it. I most likely wouldn’t hear back from her either, but I was okay with that.
“Was I supposed to talk to you before? Before I moved, I mean. It all happened so suddenly.” As my parole officer, I had to follow her rules and one of those required a home check-in any place I lived. I’d totally forgotten to call her after the attack and everything else happened in the blink of a few days.
“Yes, but it was within twenty-four hours, I’ll let it slide. Anything else I need to know about?”
She eyed me curiously. Who could blame her? There was no way under normal circumstances I could afford a home like this, and when we met for dinner, just over two weeks ago, I’d made no mention of this move. Not that I’d known about it then.
Everything. I suspected everything I’d come to expect was changing. My guess? Ellen knew it too.
“It’s possible I might be leaving Judith’s for a job at Valor Holdings soon.”
“I see.” She clasped her hands together in front of her, her back to the window. “How has all of this happened?”
It was the first time I mentioned the name Valentine or their company and a woman’s eyes didn’t flash with interest or intrigue. Instead, Ellen seemed wary.
Not the reaction I’d expected and the look in her eyes made me stumble over my explanation.
“I’m not one hundred percent certain. David… I mean, Mr. Valentine, he came into Judith’s several months ago and kept returning. Eventually we started talking about my schooling and what I was looking for afterward. He offered to help get me a part-time job at his company a couple of weeks ago.”
“Did he?” A muscle on the side of her nose twitched, making me pause before I continued.
“That last time we had dinner? When I asked you about trusting people, I was talking about them.”
She didn’t seem happy about this, perhaps resigned? But why would Ellen care where I worked? Certainly it was better for me than a diner or automotive garage.
I felt the sudden urge to reassure her. Or defend myself. I wasn’t used to her questioning my choices, but then again, she’d essentially been making them for me. Maybe she was more upset I did this without talking to her first than she was letting on.
“I haven’t fully decided if I’m going to yet, but it seems like too good of an opportunity for me to turn down.”
“Very well.” She nodded. “I suppose my work for the day is done here. You’ll keep me updated on your decision?”
“Of course.” We both knew her question was more demanded expectation. “And if I choose to leave Judith’s, I’ve already let Mr. Valentine know I’ll need to give my two weeks’ notice.”
“Excellent. We’ll speak soon, then.”
She headed toward my front door, scooping up her purse she left on the kitchen bar and draped it over her shoulder. With her hand on the doorknob, she glanced at me over her shoulder. “The Valentines are good people. Well respected in this city and the entire state. That doesn’t mean they’re perfect men. Remember that.”
She left and closed the door behind her, slamming the door closed on my excitement and my need to have her approval.
I didn’t grow up with a mother who guided me in life, but one who stood on the sidelines for her own protection, as futile as it was.
Silly me for even considering Ellen was becoming that mother figure to me I so desperately needed.
A familiar pink and black checked backpack slid onto the desk next to me right before Angie followed, slipping into the seat. She’d taken to sitting in the back row of class with me.
“Hey,” she said, chomping on a piece of gum. Peppermint, by the smell of it. “Have a good weekend?”
“Yeah. I did.” My grin shook as a flood of warm ripples ran down my spine. This girl didn’t care about my past. What I’d done or where I’d been. Somehow she kept injecting herself into my life with a smile and kind word. “Yours?”
“All right. My little sister got sick with croup, so Mom had to take her to the hospital. She was so bone-tired Sunday I had to watch both of my younger siblings. That sucked, but my brother, Josiah, wasn’t a jerk and helped so yeah.” She shrugged. “It was decent. You ready for this test on Thursday?”
“Not even in my dreams,” I admitted. “Any chance you’d be willing to help?”
I’d put it off for weeks. Asking didn’t come easy to me, even prior to incarceration. But I no longer lived in a ramshackle of a home, and I was taking Nancy’s long ago given advice.
It wouldn’t kill you to open up. It is possible for you to have friends again. A life.
I scoffed then, but so much changed in the last month.
Now, I naively pictured girls’ nights with laughter and meat and cheese boards while watching reality television or frivolous sitcoms I could now view on my forty-inch flat screen TV.
“Sure. I can help with your accounting if you tell me all about how you know Hudson Valentin
e.”
She said his name like he was a prince. The mere mention of his name sent a warm flutter to my stomach, which I tried to push down.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
Truth was, he was growing on me, too. I hadn’t agreed to a job or interview with his company and he didn’t press. I was procrastinating calling David. Their job offers were too much, and too obviously overpaying me to give me something better than I deserved.
Was it possible to request a salary less than offered? They wouldn’t take it.
It was my pride in all of this I kept getting hung up on, but I wanted to work for what I earned, not be given it without cause.
Regardless, I was almost feeling… settled. Growing a tiny mustard seed of hope, I could do this. I could be an ex-con and not be entirely judged for it.
Which was why I was taking the bullet and asking Angie to my home. She was growing on me, too. I noticed she was bubbly when excited, but quiet in class. Smart as hell. At least when it came to accounting but if she could figure that out and get straight A’s, she was a borderline genius as far as I was concerned.
“Please.” She rolled her eyes like I was being ridiculous. “It’s Hudson, and if you haven’t noticed yet by looking at him, there’s a lot to talk about when it comes to him.”
She laughed then and signed into her laptop. “What day works for you?”
“Tonight? Or tomorrow afternoon if you don’t have class.”
“I can do both. Want to do your place? My house is madness and when I study in public I do too much people-watching.”
“My house. That’d be great.”
“Good. Give me your address and I’ll be there tonight at seven. I’m done with class at noon tomorrow so I can help a few hours then, too, if you need more help.”
She pulled up her Google calendar and started typing in her appointments with me. I looked over her shoulder at the screen. Her calendar was full, classes color coordinated.
“You are… organized.”
“Anal retentive is what my mom calls me, but I need it. She works two jobs, I have one, and I have a younger brother and sister who need my help a lot of times. The only way I can survive is if I write everything down.”
I rattled off my new address, quieting my voice at the end when our professor walked into the room.
He always wore a wrinkled, short-sleeve button-up plaid shirt with khaki pants two sizes too big. They bunched at the waist, making him look ridiculous. A handful of times he came in with the powder of white donuts at the corners of his mouth. His hair was slick, shining and I suspected it was longer on the top of his head due to a balding spot he attempted to hide with a combover.
He was kind and reasonable, well respected, but his voice was so dry and monotone I often had a difficult time staying awake in class.
“Thanks,” I whispered to Angie.
“We all need help every once in a while. No shame in that.”
And that was a lesson I needed to remember.
17
Lilly
I fell back into my gray couch and sighed. Scrubbing my hands down my face and then back to my hair, I moaned to Angie. “I’m never going to understand this.”
“You have it,” she corrected, grinning at me with pale, full lips. “You just keep forgetting it.”
“What’s the difference?”
She laughed and tugged my hand so I fell forward, back to where our work was spread out all over the coffee table. “It’s just a T account. You can do this.”
“Just a T account,” I mumbled and grumbled. “It’s backward math is what it is, and it’s giving me an ulcer.”
“It’s pretty rare for stress to actually cause an ulcer. The vast majority are caused by bacteria, not your body’s response to stress.”
“Well, aren’t you a walking encyclopedia today.”
She laughed again, ruining my sour disposition. I learned this afternoon Angie was always happy. I turned down her offer for a ride back to my apartment and took the bus home which meant by the time I arrived, she was already parked in the small guest lot and waiting for me.
“I could have driven you,” she’d said.
“I know,” I’d responded.
I changed the subject to homework and her siblings, who I learned were six and three, named Mike and Vena. She went on to say that she and Josiah’s dad bailed on their mom when they were only two. Her mom was now remarried, but her stepdad was a semi-truck driver and spent most of the time on the road, which is why she had to help her mom with her brother and sister so much. I continued peppering her with questions, not giving her much of an opportunity to ask about me.
The less she knew about me, the better. And no one needed to know being in cars since the accident had induced more than one panic attack. Being alone with Hudson was bad enough, but I certainly didn’t need to lose it around the only person at school who talked to me.
Slowly, cracks were forming. Painful little splinters splitting open the cell I put around my heart for protection. They pricked at my chest every day.
Or maybe I really was getting an ulcer.
“Okay.” I grabbed my pen and worksheets I printed off in the student center’s printing office. “Help me figure this out before my head explodes.”
“Maybe we need a small break? Have any snacks?”
“Sure.” I shoved off the couch and went to my kitchen and pulled out cracker boxes and bags of chips I bought at Aldi on my way to Judith’s during the week. They were used to me stuffing a few overflowing reusable grocery bags in the office and the freezer. “What would you like?”
“I’ll take the chips.” She grabbed a bag of salt and vinegar chips, some of my favorites and I filled up a couple glasses of water. The cupboards came stocked full with everything and anything possible needed for a kitchen and I kept forgetting where everything was.
“Lived here long?” Angie asked, wearing a wry grin. “Or is your memory really that bad?”
“Moved in last weekend. It’s only temporary, though.”
“It’s a pretty sweet pad.”
“I know.”
“Rumor has it Hudson lives in this building. That his family owns it.”
“Do they?” I asked and shoved a chip into my mouth.
Even before, I didn’t like gossip or rumors. There were too many I tried to sweep away when it came to Josh. I usually figured asking questions and letting people talk themselves in circles worked better and required nothing from me.
If it was rumor Hudson lived here and not common knowledge, I wasn’t going to be the one who confirmed it.
“And I’ve never seen him on our campus before ever, so you have to give me something.”
Trust didn’t come easy to me, yet I found myself handing out crumbs of it. And Angie had been nothing but nice to me. It wouldn’t hurt anything to tell her some of how I knew them.
“I met his dad at the diner where I work. He comes in sometimes for pie and we started talking about school. That’s all.”
I chomped on another chip while Angie’s smile never faltered. “David Valentine goes to where you work for pie?”
Geez. She talked about them like they were celebrities. It wasn’t that I didn’t know they had money. Maybe because that’d once been a part of my life. It didn’t seem as awe-inspiring.
“Yup.”
“Where do you work?”
“Why?” I tossed a chip at her. It stuck to her shirt. “You going to come in for pie, too?”
“Maybe.” She plucked the chip off her shirt and tossed it into her mouth. “Where do you work?”
“Judith’s. It’s up by I-80 and—”
“I know where it is!” Her eyes turned to saucers and she busted out a laugh. “By the strip clubs. That place is the best!”
“You know it?”
“Sure, I know it. One of those clubs is only eighteen to enter. It’s like a rite of passage for every boy, and sometimes us girls go too.”
&n
bsp; “You go?” I couldn’t help my surprise. She just seemed too sweet.
“Even me,” Angie said with a nod and a smile. “I’ve been there a couple of times. You like it there? At Judith’s, I mean.”
I shrugged. “It’s not like I have the right to be picky, you know?”
She couldn’t possibly know.
“Can I ask…”
“No.” I knew where it was going as soon as her voice slowed and softened. If I had it my way, no one would ever know even if a simple Google search could answer it for them. Let them go through the work. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
She shrugged off my denial like it was no big deal. And I think that made me like her even more.
“So can we talk about hot and sexy Hudson is then because damn, for a white boy, he’s got it going on in all the right places.”
“No.” I threw a pillow at her. “And stop making me think about him.”
Lord knew I was doing enough of that already.
“Break time over,” I said. “I have to figure this out before I need to get ready for work.”
“Fine,” she huffed and tossed the pillow back at me. I batted it off to the side. “But if you ever need to discuss the finer points and angles of Hudson, I’m your girl. Okay?”
It would never happen. “I’ll agree to that.”
She wiggled her brows ridiculously and smiled. Strangely enough, I was pretty sure I was now wearing a grin, too.
And it didn’t feel all that wonky or broken.
“Can I get you anything else tonight, Johnny?”
“No thanks, darlin’.” He reached for his full cup of coffee and turned back to the Des Moines Register spread out on the table.
I grinned as I walked away. His southern drawl was thick and heavy. He once told me he’d been coming to Judith’s for thirty years, found it one night on a trip from Dallas to Minneapolis, and liked it so much he stopped in as much as possible.