“Hey,” he said as if offended, “don’t call my hand a bar slut. She’s a fine lady.” He wiggled his fingers.
“Gross.”
He ignored her condemnation. “I know you and your dad have a bad relationship, but is he dangerous?”
“Uh, yeah,” she said as if he should’ve known.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, you never told me the details. You just said he was a dick, and that you never wanted to see him again.”
“And I don’t.”
“Do you have a restraining order or anything like that?”
She shook her head. “No. My mom moved us back here where she grew up. I moved in with my grandparents after my mom…” She was surprised by the grief that swelled from the mention of her mother’s passing.
“I gotcha,” said Paul to end the conversation and spare Alma the pain of recounting any more. “Maybe you should think about getting one now.”
“Could I? I’m not sure I’ve got enough against him to warrant it. Hell, I hurt him more than he hurt me at the restaurant.”
“Still might be worth looking into.”
She nodded and took another drink. “Maybe. For now, I just want to stay as far away from him as I can. I’m afraid he’s going to show up at my place or something.”
“Hey, if you want, I can go round up some of the guys downstairs and we’ll take you home. If the fucker shows up, we’ll make sure he never does again.”
“Yeah, sure,” she said sarcastically. “That’s the answer. We’ll just beat him to death and bury him in a shallow grave. That’s a good idea.”
He tilted his head to the side as if convinced it was a good idea. Then he laughed and shrugged like he’d meant it as a joke all along. “I didn’t say anything about killing him, just hurting him a little.”
“I didn’t come here to hire a hitman.”
“Well, while we’re on the subject, why did you come here?”
“I guess I just wanted to be somewhere that I felt comfortable,” said Alma. “Although it’s kind of weird here now. It’s all so different. In a good way, but different.” She drank her beer and scanned the apartment.
“You know my offer still stands, right?”
“What offer?” she asked.
His shoulders sunk and he sighed, tired of playing this game. “You know what offer. I’ll always take you back. If you want me, I’ll drop whatever else I’ve got going on for you.” He looked away as if embarrassed, crossed his arms, and leaned against the counter on the other side of the kitchen. “I wish it weren’t true, but it is. No matter how many times you break my heart, you’re still my girl, for as long as you want to be.”
“Stop it,” said Alma. His confession was everything she wanted to hear, and she felt her ears flush as blood rushed to her face.
“I’ll always love you like a new favorite song.”
She loved it when he said that, and he knew it. He grinned at her, and if it weren’t for her conflicted emotions she would’ve hopped over the counter and torn his clothes off right then. Instead she cleared her throat and said, “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“You know where it is.”
Alma finished her beer and then headed for the bathroom, a tiny room that was the only private spot in the apartment. It had only a shower, toilet, and sink in it, and all three were jammed as close to one another as possible. She marveled at the cleanliness of the room as she closed the door and stared into the mirror.
“Don’t do this, Alma,” she whispered to herself. “I can’t believe you’re going to do this.” She set her purse on the counter to search for her lipstick and perfume before doing her best to fix her makeup. “This is stupid.” She repeated the phrase over and over as she went through her routine, applying mascara, foundation, and even a pinch of glitter between her breasts. She winked at herself in the mirror and said, “You’re such a slut.” She was almost giddy, and couldn’t help but smile. The on-again-off-again nature of her relationship with Paul was torture most of the time, except for when they were just about to kick things off again. In these moments it felt like she’d just started dating someone, but without the nervous tension that led up to having sex for the first time.
She stopped and stared into the mirror. “Do you really want this, Alma? Are you sure?” She thought about it, and then smiled as she nodded. “Yes I do.” She snapped the button closed on her purse, confident in her decision to rekindle her relationship with Paul, if even for just one night.
Alma lifted the toilet cover to pee.
There was a used condom floating in the bowl.
CHAPTER FOUR
Doors
Widowsfield
March 14th, 1996
“Well look at you two,” said the paunchy waitress at the Salt and Pepper Diner. Her red hair was curled and a pair of sunglasses was stuck in it as if she planned to leave work to enjoy the sunny day any moment now.
“Hi, Grace,” said Desmond.
“Hi, Mrs. Love,” said Raymond.
“Hi sweetie,” Grace rubbed the boy’s buzz cut as she walked up to their booth. “Now, isn’t it a school day? What are you doing here now? Did school let out early or are you playing hooky?”
Desmond chuckled, slow and uncomfortably. He was a simple man, a mechanic at a garage a few miles out of town, and he lacked social graces. He wore all denim, with only a glimpse of the white t-shirt beneath his buttoned top. It was as if his entire identity revolved around his job, and even when not at work he strived to maintain a semblance of the uniform. “Well, Grace, I got Ray out early today. We’re on our way to our cabin in Forsythe for a little fishing over spring break. Ray’s been pretty excited about the trip. He didn’t even want to stop for food, but I told him I wasn’t hitting the road before stopping in to see our favorite waitress.”
“Is that right?” she looked down at Raymond.
“Yes ma’am.” Raymond was a sweet boy, but she wasn’t sure if he was simple-minded like his father or not. They looked similar, with thick midsections and squat heads, noses that were pushed in and jowls that jutted forth, but Raymond’s bright blue eyes were a defining attribute that contrasted his father’s beady black ones.
Grace tapped her order pad with a pencil and smirked at Desmond. “You two aren’t planning on getting into any trouble, are you? You’d better not be cheating on me with some strumpet out there, Desmond.” Grace often chided him as if they were an old married couple. Her husband hated how flirtatious she was with patrons, but he was half a state away at a trade show and she needed the tips.
Both Desmond and Raymond chuckled in an identical manner. Grace adored these two, and had known them for years. It was easy for Desmond’s mannerisms to make people uneasy when they first met him. His disability wasn’t immediately identifiable, which made people nervous around him. However, given time he always proved to be a caring, kind man. Nothing was more important in his life than his son, and he exemplified that with every waking moment. Grace rarely saw the two separated, and they were frequent customers at the Salt and Pepper Diner.
Desmond also had a daughter, who was older and had fallen in with a bad crowd. She was often a source of angst for Desmond, and was well known throughout town for her drug habit. Desmond, who had inherited a large sum when his parents passed, had bought his daughter a cabin in town to try and keep her near him, but their relationship had crumbled over recent years. Grace thought that the way Desmond doted on Raymond was as recompense for his lost daughter.
“Don’t worry,” said Desmond. “There’s no one for me but you, Gracie. Right, Ray?”