I swallowed the lump in my throat, knowing that anyone who read this hated us and the evil, meaningless crimes we’d committed. They’d probably want us to face the worst possible punishment…maybe even the death penalty. I feared there’d be people hoping to run into us and serve up their own kind of vigilante justice.
Mason scooted my drink to me. I pushed it away, nearly knocking it over, and slid out of the booth. I headed for the bathroom, sick to my stomach and shaking uncontrollably, ready to collapse in distress.
I knew this lifestyle brought with it the anxiety of always being on the run, of constantly looking over your shoulder, but I’d never read about it in the paper. And nobody around us ever figured it out. We were always one step ahead. I wondered what Aunt Wanda would do—she wasn’t one to give up without a fight.
I turned on the faucet and held my hands under the cold water—the cold numbing my fingertips. How I wished it’d numb the rest of my body. My lips and chin were trembling, fear was forcing the tears out. In an instant, my body stiffened and my fear turned into sobbing…my cries so loud they echoed off the bathroom walls.
I dropped to my knees. Roger’s image flashed through my mind; he could have helped me. He could have taken me away from all this, but I didn’t want to ruin his life with his family.
So instead of doing what I normally would, I respected Roger’s wife and Mason. I wanted to be good for Mason and hoped there could be something between us. Who was I kidding? What sort of sense did that make?
Mason was confused—he didn’t care about me. It was the idea of me and fixing me that he cared about.
The bathroom door opened. I jumped, standing up, trying to conceal my crying. The red-haired waitress looked concerned. She set her purse down on the sink and came to me.
“Why are you crying?” she asked, lifting my chin. She wiped my face with her hand, grabbing some paper towels from the dispenser.
“It’s nothing…please,” I said. I looked in the mirror…my face was covered with red blotches from crying and my hair was a mess. I blotted my nose with a paper towel.
“I can see there’s something. Please tell me. We’re probably about the same age. Maybe I can help you,” she pleaded, her expression sincere.
“Why would you want to do that? How did you become such a nice person?” I asked, as I tried to pull myself together.
“I believe I have my dad to thank for that. He was always a nice guy and he liked people. I guess he passed that on to me,” she said, with a smile.
“Well, I don’t have one of those. I have Wanda—my screwed up aunt—and a mother who never wanted to know me,” I said.
“Yeah…she seems pretty screwed up. I’ve waited tables here for five years and I’ve seen a lot of people. But I’ve never seen one quite like her,” she said.
I watched this girl and how calm and happy see seemed—no fidgeting or anxiousness. I so badly wanted what she had.
“She’s screwed up for sure.” I was biting at my bottom lip and wringing my hands. Every time someone showed me any kindness or concern, I just wanted to blurt out all that had gone down…confess to everything. My heart ached to have the comfort of knowing someone was there for me and could help me out of this mess.
So lost in my thoughts of wishing to be someone else in another place and time, I gasped at the sound of her voice when she spoke again.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“I’m twenty,” I answered, staring up at the ceiling to avoid making eye contact with her. If she only knew what I’d been through.
“Why don’t you take off and spread your wings, girly. You’re old enough to do what you want. I took off at sixteen and now I’m right where I want and need to be. You could do that, too.”
She patted my hand in reassurance and gave me another one of her sweet smiles before she headed back to work.
I stood there for a minute thinking about what she’d said. I’d been given the same advice from different people recently and I wondered how those strangers knew what I was capable of when they didn’t even know me.
When I came out of the bathroom, everyone was busy eating. Mason’s expression changed the instant he saw me. He patted the spot next to him for me to take a seat. Just as I expected, a plate of pancakes with strawberries and eggs sat in my spot.
“You okay?” he said softly.
Aunt Wanda shot me a look as well, waiting for a response.
“No, I’m not,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Aunt Wanda didn’t look away and she didn’t ask what was wrong. I’m sure she thought if she stared at me long enough she’d figure it out on her own.
I picked up my fork and stabbed at my pancakes, imagining they were Wanda. I knew it was obvious to everyone that I’d been crying.
Mason gave me a confused look and went back to eating.
“Virginia isn’t so bad,” Mason said with a hint of amusement in his tone.
I looked up at Wanda and Payton to see if they’d caught his sarcasm.
“It’s a shit hole,” Payton said, breaking her silence.
Mason leaned back in the booth, a big smirk on his face.
JULY 4
TH
“COME ON, WE ONLY HAVE an hour,” Mason said, pacing the hotel room.
I lifted my head out from underneath the cover. It had been two days since I’d gotten out of bed. Life didn’t feel worth living at the moment, so I saw no reason to get out of bed.
I always knew this would happen sooner or later. All I was doing was waiting…waiting for the axe to fall…waiting to be thrown into jail. I’d never felt so helpless or so discouraged. I had no answers and I didn’t know where to go to get them. The anxiety and paranoia had taken over my life, and I was facing an unknown fate.
Mason clapped his hands and ripped the covers off me. He wasn’t willing to deal with my depression any longer. Every time I felt the walls closing in on me, I fell into a dark despair, never sure if I’d come back up again. Mason chose to ignore it.
“Mason, I’m in no mood to see fireworks,” I said, blowing my hair from my eyes.
He crawled into bed and curled up next to me. “Come on, Kendall. There’ll be a ton of people. We’ll just be another random face in the crowd. And look,” he said, jumping up and pulling sunglasses and hats off the dresser, “we’ll be incognito.”
“I don’t even like fireworks. You know this. I just want to sleep. Just stop it already,” I said, groaning. I dropped my head back down on the pillow.
“Fine, lay here in your misery and become one of them,” he yelled at me. His fists were balled up at his side like he was ready to hit something.
I ignored his show of aggression. “What, exactly, is one of them?”
Mason spun on his heels, throwing his hands in the air. He was so angry. “Those two women over there think they’ve got it all figured out and they’re ruining our lives.” He sat down on the bed. “They never find any enjoyment in life.”
“Well, of course not, it’s Payton and Wanda. They don’t enjoy anything,” I said. I sat up and pulled the covers off me.
“They’re going nowhere. They have no idea what they want. It’s an endless chase in pursuit of what? Wanda says it’s California. My mom wants to go overseas. It’s never happened, and it ain’t going to,” he said, tapping me on the leg.
“Don’t you see that, Kendall? They don’t care because they have nothing to lose. If I have something to live for, I’ll make it,” he said.
I sighed. Mason had an uncanny way of spinning crap into golden rays of sunshine. He kept going on about how much fun we’d have and how much we needed this.