10
1222 Words
I chuckled and shook my head. “No. Well, I guess I don’t know, but I doubt it. It’s just that he’s ex-military and super intense, and I’m not sure I want to get into any kind of relationship so soon after moving.” “Some of those military guys can be scary,” she said with wide eyes. “PTSD and all that stuff. Was he in combat?” “I have no idea. I really don’t know him at all, certainly not enough for him to be distracting me as badly as he has been. He could be a modern-day Jack the Ripper for all I know.” Liv stared at me as though I’d grown a second head. “Why on earth would you say that?” “Because, Liv, not everyone is who they seem to be. Trust me on that.” Before I could get another word out, a loud sound exploded from outside. I grabbed Olivia and yanked her down with me to the ground. My hand slid down my shirt to pull out a switchblade from my bra, clicking it open in one swift motion. The dining room quieted for the briefest second, then the distinct chatter of conversation and the clinking of dishes resumed as if nothing had happened, leaving me hunched on the ground holding a knife like a lunatic. A car backfired. That was all it had been, but I’d acted as if there was a live shooter on a rampage. When I met Olivia’s gaze, she wasn’t just looking at me as though I’d gone crazy. Now, her stare was infused with worry. I released my hold on her, and we both stood. “Em, what the hell was that?” “It just startled me, that’s all. I better check on my tables. Thanks for covering for me, Liv, I owe you.” I hurried back out to the dining area, unwilling to give her an explanation or time for any more questions. It didn’t matter if Olivia was a work acquaintance or my new best friend; I wasn’t opening up to anyone about the past. This was my new life, and I didn’t want it tainted with the stain of old memories. After my shift, I took a detour to the shelter where I’d started volunteering several weeks ago. Olivia’s dad let me take leftovers to donate rather than toss them. Sometimes, there wasn’t enough to warrant a trip, but on nights like tonight, I had two large silver containers full of food that the ladies would love. The shelter was a transitional housing and wellness center, not far from my apartment, where homeless women could go and work on a fresh start. When I arrived in New York, I quickly figured out that I needed to feel as though I was making a difference in the world. That I was doing more than living my own sheltered life and ignoring the struggles of the people around me. As soon as I started my first shift, I knew immediately that I was on the right track. It wasn’t always easy. My heart ached to know the pain each of the women had experienced. While my part in their lives was nominal, I felt better knowing I was doing something to help. I realized that a big part of who I was revolved around who I was not. I was not someone who could sit by and let horrible things happen without doing something. The stories the shelter women told were heartbreaking and tragic, and so many of them were a result of slipping through the system. For now, I was content to participate on the tail end, helping women get back on track. However, I couldn’t help but wonder what could be done to prevent them from ending up on the streets to begin with. I talked with the shelter director about that topic and was given mindnumbing details about the extensive red tape involved in removing children from their home or stepping into domestic abuse situations. I hated to think of all the women and children hurting out in the world at any given time. There were people who wanted to help, but our society was set up to minimize government intrusion into the family. I got it. I understood the need to keep the government in check and allow people their freedoms, but it was still hard to think about. So many innocent lives broken and lost because they were mistreated inside the sanctity of their own homes. A place that should have been a haven. Fortunately, dropping off food was always a happy occasion. After the day I’d had, I wasn’t up for much more. I brought in the goodies, managing to squeeze them into the packed refrigerator, then chatted briefly with the ladies who hadn’t made it up to bed yet. By the time I started on my walk home, I was utterly exhausted, but not quite tired enough to still my overactive imagination. As if my catastrophe of a day hadn’t been bad enough, my paranoia kicked in on the way home. I could have sworn there were eyes watching me. I looked over my shoulder repeatedly, almost to the point of hysteria. I was so distracted that I walked straight into the man in front of me when he halted at an intersection. I hadn’t noticed he’d stopped for cross traffic and had nearly bumped him into the busy street. I apologized profusely and scolded myself for being so ridiculous, but the feeling didn’t go away. The moment I entered my apartment, I made sure all the blinds were closed and peeked in every dark corner. Once my nerves settled, I changed into a baggy T-shirt and sweatpants, then curled up on my sofa with my two favorite men, Ned and Don Julio. Most women my age would pour a glass of wine or sip on a spritzer, but that wasn’t me. I’d never been a wine drinker, and some things you couldn’t erase. When I needed a little something to calm my nerves, I went straight for the tequila. And not just any tequila—the good stuff—Patrón or Don Julio or Casa Noble. I made sure to keep one of them on hand, along with a few limes, for just such an occasion. Simply feeling the cork stopper pull free of the thick glass made my stomach warm in anticipation. I laced the edge of my sipping glass with a swipe of lime wedge, giving the perfect hint of citrus with each taste of liquor. After starting my Spotify relaxation playlist, I sipped my tequila and munched on the tortilla chips I’d brought home from work. Salty chips were the ideal complement to the drink even though I rarely wanted any after serving them all day to customers. I had known today would be different and had gone home prepared. Two hours later, all my worries were dried up like a summer rain. Ned had been fully updated on my day, and my whole body was toasty warm. The moment I dropped into bed, I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep, unable to fully banish a certain set of intelligent brown eyes from following me into my dreams.
- Writer
