Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Legs
It isn’t until I go through the washing a day later to put it away that I realize all my underwear is missing. It doesn’t take much of a leap to assume that it’s the asshole from next door.
I constantly check over my shoulder now, making sure I time leaving the apartment when the hallway is empty.
I’m going to run into him at some point, that much is obvious, but the longer I can delay the inevitable, the better.
Hopefully, the threat of Midas will make him keep on walking.
Either way, I hate how tense and unsettled the whole thing is making me.
I need to move up my timeline. I planned to have the baby here and find something else to live in afterward.
Moving while alone and pregnant is not ideal, but honestly, living on a knife’s edge isn’t any better.
Living next to someone who is unstable is bad enough when it’s just me, but I don’t want my kid around someone like that.
I scan the local properties in the area, deliberately ignoring anything available in Raven’s Nest, hoping something comes up in my budget closer to the diner. So far, there’s nothing unless I’m willing to move to a complex in an even worse area than this one.
Tossing my cell phone on my bed when I still can’t find anything remotely workable, I lie back and cover my stomach with both hands.
“I’ll figure something out, munchkin.” I hope I didn’t just lie to my kid.
The truth is, I’m not sure I’m figuring out much of anything.
I try to remind myself of the positives, but on days like this, it’s so much easier to think of all the ways I’m failing.
I need a distraction. I get off my ass and decide to clean the apartment while I have a chance.
Sundays are my only day off, and usually I’m so tired from the long week that all I want to do is lie on the sofa all day.
Today, I’m oddly restless and I decide to put the influx of energy to good use.
I start with the bathroom, as I spend a lot of time in there with my head hanging over the toilet, before moving on to the kitchen.
I take a break around lunchtime to eat a sandwich and drink some water before tackling the rest of the apartment.
My back aches when I’m done, but the place sparkles, and I feel a sense of accomplishment.
“Okay, step one in getting my shit together is complete.”
I flip on the radio in a bid to stop talking to myself like a lunatic and take a quick shower to freshen up after working up a sweat.
Once I’m done, I braid my hair, add a little makeup to make myself feel better, and slip on a white sundress with little red cherries all over it.
I slide on a pair of red tennis shoes and a denim jacket before grabbing my over-the-shoulder bag and throwing in what I’ll need, including the shopping list I wrote earlier.
I check the spyhole before poking my head out.
All is quiet, so I creep out and lock the door before hurrying down the steps to the bus stop.
A bus pulls up a few minutes later. I don’t recognize the driver, but I offer them a polite smile as I pull out the correct change and drop it into their hand.
I let my gaze drift around the bus quickly as I walk toward the seats.
A woman in her late sixties–early seventies is sitting on the left with a pair of knitting needles in her hand and a ball of yellow yarn in her lap.
A little farther back is a teenage boy with headphones covering his ears.
His head is leaning against the glass, and his eyes are closed.
On the right, two middle-aged women sit side by side, talking to each other in that way close friends do.
I take a seat in my usual place and pull out my cell phone to doom scroll so nobody tries to strike up a conversation with me.
Once we get moving, I shove my phone into the front pocket of my jacket and focus on the view out the window. I keep my eyes open for places with “for rent” signs out front, but the only one I see is posted a door down from the newly opened gentlemen’s club, so I write it off immediately.
Nothing jumps out at me. I sigh, disappointed when I see my stop ahead. I get to my feet and make my way to the front of the bus, waiting for it to stop and for the doors to open before moving closer.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
I step off the bus and whirl around when I sense someone behind me standing way too close. Before I can snap, the teenager behind me holds up his hands in apology and backs off.
“My mistake,” he mumbles before sidestepping me and carrying on his way.
He keeps walking away from me, and I watch him while I think about my actions.
The poor kid did nothing to me, but I’m so damn on edge.
I find potential danger in every man. Every woman should take their safety seriously, but I’m taking things to the extreme because my life feels like it’s veered so far off course.
I shake it off before heading down the road to the supermarket.
Knowing I won’t be able to carry much, I grab the essentials.
There’s a place farther out that delivers, so anything I can’t carry, I’ll order from there.
They’re too expensive for me to get everything there, hence my impromptu trip here today.
I wander down the aisle aimlessly, enjoying the fact that I’m not in a rush for a change.
I pick up items, add them to the basket, and pop a few back when I find cheaper alternatives.
As I turn to the bakery section, I feel like I’m being watched again. I turn and look behind me, but there’s nobody there. Even so, I stay where I am, waiting to see if anyone jumps around the corner. When they don’t, I keep walking, feeling stupid.
I add fresh bread to the basket and head to the checkout, queuing in line behind a woman with a toddler sitting in the cart, snacking on a carrot stick, and an old man with a basket full of beer and condoms. I look away and smile.
I am not one to judge a book by its cover, but I passed that same guy earlier.
If he’s younger than eighty, I’d eat my hat.
The toddler spots me and starts babbling before offering me their carrot.
“Thanks, sweetheart, but you keep it.”
The mom turns and looks at me with a tired sigh. “I’m sorry. Amy’s never met a stranger yet. I can’t wait until she grows out of it.”
“I don’t know, it seems kinda sad when you think about it. They grow out of it when they understand that the world is not as safe as they once thought.”
“Huh. I never thought about it like that. As parents, you kinda want to wrap them up in cotton wool but know that with the best will in the world, you can’t protect them from everything.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t try, right?”
“Right.” She huffs out a laugh. “You got kids?”
“I’m currently baking my first.”
She looks at my stomach which now has a small bump and grins. “Congrats. How’s pregnancy treating you?”
“Like it hates me.”
She doubles over with laughter, her kid following suit even though she has no idea why she’s laughing.
“Oh my god. Before I became pregnant, everyone would tell me about how wonderful being pregnant was. And then I became pregnant and felt like ass from pretty much day one. I kept waiting for that glow to set in that they talked about. It never did. I swear to god it’s all a lie—something they tell us because if we knew the truth, we’d never procreate. ”
I find myself laughing right along with her. “I’m glad I’m not alone. I was starting to worry something was wrong with me.”
“Not at all. And though you might feel crazy, I gotta say you look amazing. I looked like warmed-up dog shit for nine months.”
“Miss?” We both turn when the cashier calls out. While we’d been gossiping, the old man checked out and left.
“Sorry,” the mom calls out and walks around the cart to load up the belt.
I keep the kiddo occupied by making faces at her and making her giggle.
By the time mom is done and the groceries are back in the cart, she looks like she could do with a nap.
She blows out a wayward curl from her face before smiling at me.
“As hard as it is, enjoy every second because it gets so much harder once they come along.”
“Have you ever regretted it?” I ask quietly, but I’m curious.
She looks at her kid, a smile spreading over her face. “Not for a single second.”
She waves as she leaves, the kid waving to me as I return it before I face the cashier.
I think about her words as I bag my things up and pay.
As I carry them outside and walk to the bench to wait for the next bus, I take a second to think about how hard things will get with a baby literally relying on me to survive.
It’s a terrifying notion when I’ve killed every houseplant I’ve ever owned, made even scarier by the thought of doing it alone.
I place the bags on the bench beside me, pull out my cell phone, and open my messages. I scroll down until I find Lil and fire off a text.
You busy?
Not even a minute later, the phone starts to ring. With a grin, I hit accept and place the phone to my ear.
“I take it you’re not busy.”
“I’m never too busy for you. I was starting to worry you’d forgotten about me.”
I’m about to say something flippant, then remember Lil’s history. Lil has some strong abandonment issues, and rightly so. “Never. I’ve just been trying to figure my life out and working like crazy.”
“You got a job? That’s awesome, Legs. What are you doing?”
I hesitate for a beat, not wanting Midas to know where I’m working. But if the man is that serious about stalking me, he’d just follow me to work one day.
“At a diner just outside town. It’s popular, so it’s busy, but that means the tips are good.”
“You just make sure you look after yourself too.”
“I’m trying. I’m hoping that things will be a little easier now I’m not throwing up all the time and the exhaustion is slowly passing.”