The Unlucky Ones, page 4
What do you say after something like this?
Thanks?
I didn’t even want to think too much about how I’d just fucked some stranger in the bathroom at the diner because my heart and soul hurt.
With his forearms anchored next to my ears, we watched each other. Finally, he leaned back enough to force my legs to slide down his, touching the floor, as he pulled out of me. The wave of emotion I had been blocking all day surged down on me. For our brief, blissful encounter, I had felt happy. Weightless. But now, reality came back for me with a vengeance. I shut my lids with the painful realization of what I did.
Guilt. Embarrassment. Shock.
Cory was a fleeting thought, mainly because I knew this guy had ruined me. Not that I would ever go back to my cheating ex, but I couldn’t anyway now. My body still quaked, buzzing with the high, understood what it had been missing.
I heard him walk to the garbage can, toss the condom, then the rustling of clothes.
“You okay, Freckles?”
“Don’t.” I reached for my shirt, tugging it back on and quickly getting back in my pants. “Let’s not talk. And you certainly don’t get to call me some pet name.”
“I don’t know your real name.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
He buttoned his jeans, pulling back on his T-shirt. Amusement hinted on his lips. Snagging his beanie and his backpack off the floor, he nodded at me.
“Okay then. Bye, Freckles.” He tugged the door. “It was a pleasure, but I really have to run.”
I nodded back, watching him slip out of the room.
Don’t think. Don’t think.
I rushed to the sink, straightening myself out. What was the point? No matter how much I patted down my hair or straightened my shirt, I looked flushed and dazed. As if I had been fucked properly. Skylar was going to sense it on me before I even reached the table.
“Screw it.” If anyone had reasons for acting out, it was me. Plus, he gave me exactly what I needed and more. But sadness skimmed my shoulders, reminding me of the true agony I was still trying to keep at bay. I knew he was only a diversion from my pain.
Mom still had Alzheimer’s, like her mother. My father was still dead. My boyfriend was still a cheater.
I stared at my reflection, at the same hazel eyes as my mom’s. What if it were my future too? What if it were sitting inside waiting to snatch all my memories and life until I had nothing left? Everything I did was erased like chalk? Jocelyn said there was genetic testing to show if you have a specific gene that puts you at high risk for developing Alzheimer’s. Not sure I wanted to know now.
Flickering blue and red lights from outside the frosted glass window up high in the bathroom caught my attention and pulled me back into the present.
What the hell? Slipping my boots back on, I stepped out of the bathroom. The more I thought about it, the more I was shocked Skylar hadn’t come searching for me or no one entered the restroom the whole time we were in there. I usually didn’t have that kind of luck.
Nerves in my stomach coiled tightly, as if they were warning me something was off. I walked down the hallway, stepping back into the restaurant, my feet stopping dead.
A handful of cop cars were outside, their lights whirling as they circled a caramel, nondescript sedan, blocking it in from escaping.
Dread plummeted to my gut, my feet moving to the glass doors.
“Devon!” Skylar screeched, running to me. “Oh my god, where were you?”
“What’s going on?”
“The cops pulled up about five minutes ago, surrounding the car.” She pointed at it. “And this guy walked out from the bathrooms and stepped outside as if it were nothing, holding up his arms,” she exclaimed, her eyes wide. “I was a moment away from going to look for you. What if I had run into him? I mean, the guy is super frickin’ hot, but what if he’s some serial killer? I could be dead!”
I moved to the doors, staring out at the scene with disbelief.
Brown eyes like my father’s caught mine, doing a double take, motioning for me to move away from the door. But I ignored him, my gaze sliding to the guy they had pinned to the trunk of a police car instead, the cops pulling a gun from his backpack. Steel-blue eyes stared back at me. The sheriff roughly handcuffed him, jerking him back up, relocating him to the rear of the police cab. Before they tucked him into the back of the car, the stranger glanced over his shoulder and winked at me.
Shit. This was really happening. This was my life. A perfect end to a horrendous day.
The guy who’d fucked me against the bathroom wall had just been arrested…by my uncle.
I should have kept driving.
Chapter Four
5 years later
“Erin called again.” Sue came next to me by the soda machine, sighing heavily. “It’s the fourth time in an hour to say she needs to leave.”
My teeth scraped my bottom lip as I replenished the Coke for one of my tables. The mother and father had already had three refills on their coffees, while the son was on his sixth refill of Coke. They were making sure they got their money’s worth, I guess. My section was full, but this table was exceptionally demanding, asking for something every time I passed.
I told Erin I would be home by four. That was an hour ago. The restaurant was abnormally slammed for a Wednesday, everyone heading up to the mountains for Labor Day weekend, the last summer hurrah before all schools officially returned. Jennifer and I were on shift, splitting the diner in half.
“I’m sorry, Sue.” I set the glass on my tray.
Sue leaned her hip into the counter, another sigh dropping her shoulders. “Devon, you know you are like a daughter to me. But this is still a business. My business. I can’t have your mother’s caregiver calling here more than customers do.”
I bowed my head. Sue had let me go early or let me have the day off because of my situation so many times during the past five years. My mother’s condition had worsened. Sue tried to be supportive, but everyone had a breaking point. Sympathy and understanding only went so far.
I had been a faithful employee for the last five-plus years. As servers, Jennifer and I had been here the longest. Jennifer would probably be here to the end. A lifer. At one time I hoped I could get out, explore the world, but I saw no escape in the near future. This full-time job felt more like a life sentence. Guilt quickly washed over me as I realized what the alternative would be. I shouldn’t complain. The reason I was trapped was the one thing I held on to for dear life.
Almost everyone I knew was gone, having run off to college or to a job in a bigger town the moment we graduated. I had no such luxury. I needed the money, so I worked as much as I could, but it was getting harder to get through a whole shift now without a call from the caregiver or my mother.
My gaze returned to my demanding table where the wife sipped her coffee as though she had all the time in the world. I envied that feeling. To not have anywhere to be, no one wanting anything from you.
“Hey.” Sue grabbed my tray, nodding at the door. “Go ahead and take off. I’ll finish up your section.”
“Sue…” My ponytail swung back and forth, brushing my back. “I can’t leave you and Jennifer. It’s crazy in here.”
“We can handle it,” she replied, her voice set with her decision. “Sadie and Travis are coming in at six anyway. Go, Devon. We’ll be fine.”
I knew better than to fight her when she got like this. Sue had the stubbornness and determination of a pit bull. This restaurant was her life, and she practically lived here. She had no kids or pets and even her husband only saw her if he came in for a meal. It said a lot that she was on her third husband and claimed the restaurant was her one true love.
Nodding, I watched her slip by me and effortlessly take over my tables. Another block of guilty weight settled down on my shoulders. Somedays it felt so heavy I could barely stand.
Waving at Alejandro and the rest of the kitchen staff, I grabbed my stuff out of my locker and darted out the back door to my car. The boiling sun from the late-summer day still pulsed off the asphalt, roasting my already overheated body. My car had no air-conditioning. I had to use a towel to sit so my skin didn’t peel off every time I got out. The gas tank now had duct tape over it to keep it shut. Most mornings I had to cross my fingers in hopes it would start, but I was thankful it still ran. One of these days, in the near future, it would probably break down, and I had no idea what I’d do. We had no money for a new car, all of it going to bills and babysitting for both Mia and my mother.
I raced my Toyota across town, bouncing up to our tiny, worn house. The grass needed to be mowed, the roof redone, house painted, and the porch rebuilt, adding to the ever-growing to-do list. If we miraculously ever had extra money, I might check off something on the list. It always seemed when I did, something else went wrong or the health insurance went up.
The moment I shut off the car, my phone wailed like a baby wanting to be picked up. Seeing the name, I almost pretended I didn’t see it.
“Hey, Amelia.” I sighed, shoving the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“Devon, where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for the last two hours.” I could hear the salon’s music humming in the background. My sister got a part-time job at a hair salon. Her clients loved her, but she didn’t have enough yet to really contribute to the bills, claiming any money she had went to take care of Mia.
Funny, I seemed to pay for the house where she lived, her pediatrician visits, and all the grocery bills, which were mainly Mia-approved foods. Strong-minded like the rest of the women in our family, Mia was in a stage where she only wanted chicken nuggets and fries.
“I took my private jet to Paris for a spa day. It’s Wednesday. You know I go to Paris on Wednesdays.” I climbed out of the car, slinging my bag over my shoulder. There was a beat before Amelia replied. She never seemed to get my dry humor.
“You’re hilarious, Dev. Really.” I swear I could hear her roll her eyes at me. “Erin kept calling me at the salon. You know how bad it looks to clients when your cell keeps ringing? I have to work. I can’t have her doing that anymore.”
A rush of irritation tightened my shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Amelia, that you had to deal with your own mother’s caregiver calling you. It must have been horrible.” My teeth clenched as I turned away from the house, not wanting anyone inside to hear me. “You know I have a job too. One that actually pays our bills.”
“That’s not fair.” Amelia’s hissed at me. “I have Mia, my daughter, remember? And I am still somewhat new here, trying to grow my business. I have to make a good impression. They need to know they can depend on me, and they are my main priority right then and have my full attention. You wouldn’t understand this. All you have to do is plop food in front of people.”
Rage flushed over my body, my fingers gripping the phone painfully. Silence filled the phone line as I tried to contain my anger. This wasn’t the first time Amelia and I fought about this. She didn’t seem to think waiting tables was hard, though she had never done it. Those who have waited on the public know it is a thankless, exhausting job. Dealing with hungry people is similar to walking into an angry lion cage where the beasts haven’t been fed in days. Lions that scream and complain and run you around without any gratitude.
“I’m sorry. That was mean.” Amelia exhaled, her voice softening into butter. “I’m really on edge.”
I knew my sister better than anyone; I knew by the tone of her voice when she needed something from me.
“The reason I really called?” Her voice dipped into a vault of sugar.
“What, Mel? Ask the favor.” I switched the cell to my other ear, staring out at my neighbor’s yard filled with rusting cars and parts, as the sun lowered below the houses, painting them in deep purples and browns.
“Zak called…”
Damn.
“You mean the lying, cheating douchebag? The pathetic excuse for a human? That Zak?”
“Dev,” she warned. “He is still her father.”
“Really? Simply because one of his dumb-ass sperm helped create her doesn’t make him a father.”
When Mia was born, Amelia had hoped Zak would change his mind about being a parent. He hadn’t. Nor did he want to be exclusive to Amelia, telling her a baby and a girlfriend were too constraining. Mel finally got wise and moved on, but she still tried to get her amazing little girl to spend time with her asshole father.
He mostly took Mia because the town judged everything you did here, and his mother didn’t like her son being labeled a deadbeat dad, which he was. Most of his promises to take Mia for a night or a weekend were cancelled at the last minute, claiming his job at the garage needed him.
Sure… Strange how many people needed an oil change on a Saturday night.
“His job called him in again—”
My snorted laugh cut off her sentence. “Come on, you’re not that dumb.”
I could feel her defeat through the phone, the sorrow she carried. Sometimes my sister drove me nuts, but at the end of the day we were family and I loved her. And I loved that little girl so much my heart hurt to see her face fall when Amelia had to tell her Daddy wasn’t coming.
“He’s dropping her off. He should be there now.” She cleared her throat. “And I have a date.”
“Ah.” I rubbed my face, the few strands escaping my ponytail were knotted and greasy. I felt sweaty and gross and was looking forward to a long bath. Amelia had one day, Wednesdays, to cook dinner and watch over Mom and Mia. I looked forward to it all week. I didn’t ask for much; I didn’t even leave the house. A glass of wine, a book, and a date with the tub. No responsibility for one night.
“Please, please, please, Devy?” Her tone took on what my father used to call the “snake charmer.” Amelia played it so well no one was immune to it, not even me. When she would bat her lashes and use that voice, teachers, cops, parents would walk right into her web.
“I really like this guy. He’s different; I feel it.” I tried to hold back from laughing. Every guy was “different,” only proving later he was exactly the same. Amelia had terrible taste in men. Not that I should talk.
“I’ll owe you. Please, Dev.”
Right. She already owed me years’ worth of IOUs.
“Yeah. Fine.” I could never say no to my niece.
“Thank you! I love you!” Amelia cried out before hanging up.
Tires crunched across the gravel, spinning me around. Zak’s souped-up, gleaming red truck pulled in, his spiky blond hairstyle still holding on to high school. He was such a stereotype. There were reasons stereotypes existed, and Zak made sure to continue their survival.
“Aunt Devy!” Mia’s small voice called for me as she jumped out of the truck. I had to bite my tongue at the fact Zak shoved her booster seat out behind her, never getting out, rolling it in the dirt, as if it disgusted him. Anything that ruined his “chick magnet truck” or his “single man status” was considered contemptable.
“Hey, Bean.” I held out my arms and she flew into them, hugging me tight. Her long, soft, dark hair slid over my arms. She looked so similar to our father with her dark hair, eyes, and skin. It made me happy she looked nothing like Zak’s blond, white ass. When she had been a baby, she was so long and thin she looked like a green bean, which is where her pet name came from.
“Hey.” Zak clicked his chin at me, his jaw clenching with irritation. His eyes were hidden behind aviator sunglasses, and he wore his too-cool-for-emotion expression, grabbing Mia’s overnight bag and holding it out to me from the car window as if it were some drug drop-off.
When Amelia first started dating him, he flirted with me, tried to grab my ass. I quickly set him straight with my fist. Ever since, we were like two warring countries which had to interact because of a peace treaty. But at any moment our hatred might win out and shred the barely hidden aggression.
One step away from reaching the bag, Zak dropped it in the dirt, his lips twitching smugly.
“Always a pleasure, Devy.” He smirked, pulling out of the driveway, tossing up gravel in a mushroom of haze, spitting tiny chunks at me. I could hear his laughter as he drove away, his music pumping loudly enough to be heard blocks away.
“Asshole,” I whispered, grabbing Mia’s dusty bag and joining her on the porch. “So…what do you want for dinner?”
“Nuggets!”
“Shocker. And let me guess, French fries?” I unlocked the door, herding her inside.
“Loads of them. I’m so hungry.” She ran in front of me as I grabbed the mail. Bills. Most with “urgent” or “final notice” written across the front. I sighed, adding them to the pile on the entry table from yesterday…and the day before…and the day before that.
I loved my family with every fiber of my being, but somedays it seemed I was repeating the same day over and over as my youth and life slipped away. Was it wrong to wish for something to change? To be more than this?
Chapter Five
“Erin?” I called out, shutting the door behind me, dumping my armload onto the table. Mia darted ahead into the family room. “I am so sorry I’m late.”
I was shocked Erin hadn’t come racing out the moment I drove up. And thinking about it, I didn’t remember seeing her car.
“Erin?” Please, please tell me she didn’t walk out, leaving my mom alone.
“Erin’s gone,” said a male voice from around the corner.
“Uncle Gavin?” As I stepped into the room I saw he was dressed in his sheriff uniform. He stood over my mother, who was sleeping in her chair, and pulled a blanket to her chin. Even though it was hot, my mom was always cold.
“Shinálí!” Grandfather, Mia sang, reaching for my father’s younger brother. My dad’s side was Navajo. Though we weren’t active with his tribe, my uncle wanted Mia to understand her heritage.
“Bitsóóké.” Grandchild. A huge smile grew on my uncle’s face as he swept Mia into his arms. He was not the same man with her as when I was growing up. At first, he felt uncomfortable being called “grandfather”, he said it was taking the title away from my father, but Gavin was the only grandfather Mia knew. We told her about her biological grandpa, but Uncle Gavin deserved the respect of the title. He had been there for us, helping when I couldn’t make the bills that month or watching Mom on a rare day off.
