6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Athena
T his bed is the most comfortable thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. The peach duvet is so thick and warm that it’s difficult to motivate myself to move, but a pain shoots through my lower stomach and I know I need to get to the bathroom.
There’s a small ensuite to my right, with a toilet, basin, and shower. “The essentials,” is what Maribel told me yesterday. Climbing out of bed, I look down at the new cream-colored pajamas that had been carefully placed on the pillow and smile. The small sentiment made me feel more at home than I have ever felt.
Oh no, I think I’m too late. Now that I’m fully awake and I’ve moved, I can feel it.
I’m going to be in so much trouble.
She’s going to kick me out.
Maybe if I scrub them clean before she notices, it’ll be okay. I can hide it.
Tears begin to fill my eyes and I hate how weak I am. This whole thing was supposed to be the beginning of a new me, but damn emotions keep getting the better of me and I’m not okay with it.
I want to be stronger, but I’m not sure how to do that.
On a shuddering breath, I head to the bathroom without looking back at the bed sheets, confirming my fears that I’m bleeding. The crotch of the pajama bottoms is damp with blood, but I’m fine.
He’s not here. He can’t hurt me.
The dull pain in my lower stomach becomes insistent, but I need to control my breathing.
I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m free.
I made it.
Finishing on the toilet, I turn the shower on and remove my pajama top before stepping inside the glass cubicle with the pants scrunched in my fist. It’s been a couple of months since the last time I bled so there’s nothing I can ever really do to prepare for it, but I’ve made a mess of my new pajamas, and possibly the bed sheets. My heart is thudding in my chest as I use the ocean scented shower gel and scrub the pants clean. There isn’t a lot of blood, and I’m hopeful it didn’t leak through. I should check.
Once everything is clean, I turn off the shower then squeeze the water from my hair and the pajama pants before stepping out. The large peach-colored towel feels amazing against my skin as I wrap it around my body, and I’m a little sad that I didn’t cherish the shower more. My breathing evens out as I hang the pajama pants over the door to dry off, hopefully before Maribel notices. I don’t want her to think that I’m not grateful for her help. If she thinks I ruined the clothes she gave me on the first night… I don’t even want to think about that. I can’t mess this opportunity up.
It’s taken literal years to get to this point. Years of reciting the address Mom passed on to me, over and over again. She almost made it too…
I pull on the second pair of black leggings I bought from the thrift store—stuffing some tissue into the crotch area—and slide the same green hoodie over my head, then comb my fingers through my damp waves. The pen I used to hold it up in the bun is sitting on the bedside table, and though I did wash it clean, I can still see remnants of blood on the silver tip.
Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I push the pen out of my mind before looking at the bed with my stomach trying to expel itself from my throat.
Oh thank the Gods, it’s clear. The pure relief makes me smile. I didn’t ruin everything.
The pajama pants are clean, the bed sheets are clean, nobody has to know.
I almost jump out of my skin when there’s a light tap at my door as I’m making the bed, but I have to believe I’m safe here. Someone trying to hurt me wouldn’t knock on the door.
I open it up a crack and peer out, pulling it the rest of the way when I see Maribel’s smiling face as she holds up a mug of something steaming.
“I saw your light on and thought I’d drop by with a warm drink. It’s herbal tea, but we have coffee or hot chocolate if you’d prefer.”
“Thank you. The tea will be perfect.” Not that I’ve ever had herbal tea before, but I’ve never had coffee or hot chocolate either. I take the offered mug from her with a matching smile and I think I’m still in shock that I’m even here.
Does she know that I almost ruined the lovely new pajamas she let me use? Is it polite to invite her in here with me? Do I go with her, or do we just stand here?
“Come on, hon. I’ve got the fire lit in the living room and plenty of blankets.” As if she’s sensing how uncomfortable and awkward I’m feeling, she winks and tilts her head before turning and walking down the short hall to the stairs.
It’s only five in the morning, according to the digital clock on the bedside table, so I’m surprised anyone else is awake, let alone awake enough for tea and conversation. Maribel came at a good time, though, reminding me that I’m not trapped inside this one room, even if it is a lot more luxurious than I’m used to.
I head down the stairs, bringing my mug of herbal tea with me, and find her in the living room, as she’d said, beneath a blanket on the couch in front of the fireplace. Perching myself on the edge of the cushion beside her isn’t good enough for Maribel, because she tuts playfully and rolls her eyes.
“Sit back and try to get comfortable, hon. This is a safe space, okay?”
That’s difficult to believe, but I so want to. I nod and tuck my feet beneath my ass, sitting in the opposite corner of the couch and clutching my mug.
“Did you manage to get some sleep, at least?” Maribel sips at the drink she picks up from the table beside her.
A twinge of pain shoots through my stomach right through to my lower back and I try not to wince because I don’t want Maribel to think I’m dirty.
“The bed is so soft. Thank you for finding space for me here.” I take a sip of my tea, again hiding my reaction because it’s not very good and I don’t want to appear ungrateful.
“I know we didn’t speak much when you arrived yesterday afternoon, but you look like you’re in pain, hon. Can you tell me about it?” She doesn’t move, doesn’t try to invade my space and check me over without my permission, and she’s not outright asking what the issue is.
“And don’t tell me you’re fine, because I’ve been doing this for more than half my life. I know fine.” Maribel speaks before I even open my mouth to say exactly what she predicted.
“Mari! Mom was sick in her bed again and I already used the spare sheets you gave us on Saturday.” A young boy, who sounds a lot older than he looks, runs into the living room, relaxing a little when he sees Maribel. I’d put him at a similar age to the kid in the Night At The Museum movie. Other than myself, that’s the only kid I’ve ever really known. Andy from Toy Story doesn’t count.
“Hey, Paxton. Why don’t you make yourself a hot chocolate and sit yourself in front of the fire with Athena for a while. I’ll go and see to your mom, okay?” With the sweetest smile, Maribel puts her mug down and pushes herself up from the sofa, ruffling Paxton’s blonde hair when he nods. He scrunches up his nose in faux-disgust and she laughs as they exit.
She’s not angry that the bedding she provided is messed up…
A few minutes later, the boy bounds back into the room with his own mug in his hand and he sits on the armchair opposite the couch.
“Hi, I’m Paxton. Athena is a nice name. My mom is Kylie, but she’s sick right now. Do you have any kids?” His little light brown eyes are full of so much more wisdom than his age, and his candid curiosity is refreshing. He doesn’t want anything in return for the conversation…
“Hi, Paxton. It’s nice to meet you. You have a nice name too.”
He grins, so wide, it’s catching. “Thanks. Mom said it means peaceful.”
“That’s lovely. And no, I don’t have kids.” I bring my mug to my lips again, but stop myself before I take another sip when I remember that I don’t like it.
I’m suddenly aware of my responses. Short and clipped. I don’t think I like that either. That’s not who I want to be. I have the chance to be anyone in this moment, with this innocent boy who wants nothing from me but simple conversation. My well-guarded walls could come down for Paxton.
“That’s a shame. I was hoping for someone to play with. Did your husband hit you? My dad hit Mom all the time. He hit me sometimes too, but not as often as Mom. I got him back once and Mom was so proud. That’s when we left and came here. Maribel’s a real nice lady.” He sighs happily, settling back into the armchair and pulling a blanket up over his legs.
The way he speaks is so carefree, like these things are just facts rather than something that should never have happened to him. He’s not afraid of my reaction, and it looks like the talking is making him feel good too.
“Have you been here for long?” I’m purposefully avoiding his question about my husband , but I don’t want him to think I’m ignoring him.
“About six months. Where did you come from?” He shrugs, as though being in a home for abused women and families is normal.
Although, who am I to judge what’s normal?
“I’m from Montana. Lots of pretty mountains, but it’s a lot colder than it is here.”
“All done, Paxton. Mom’s gone back to sleep, do you wanna help me with breakfast in about an hour?” Maribel comes back into the room with what I recognize as a coffee decanter thing, three-quarters full of the black liquid, and a couple of fresh cups.
“Yeah. Do you need help with anything else today?” He looks so proud of himself, and I feel like I should try to be more like him.
Is this what all children are like?
“Maybe we could see if Mac wants to come and help you with that garden patch today? There are some new plants and seeds waiting in the outbuilding.” Maribel sits herself down where she was before she left and pours herself a fresh cup of coffee. Then she puts in half a spoonful of sugar and a dash of cream from the tray of things she has prepared on her coffee table. “Coffee?” She’s looking at me now, not Paxton.
How do I know if I’ll like it? I haven’t even finished the herbal tea she gave me before.
“Here, give me your cup.” She pours another coffee into an empty cup, followed by a whole spoonful of sugar and a little more cream than she had in her own, then holds it out for me to take.
“Thank you.” I pass her the basically still full cup of tea and bring the coffee to my lips, taking in the rich scent. If the smell is anything to go by, I think I’m going to like this a lot. “Oh, wow.” One sip. Two. It’s hot, but it’s not burning… three. “This is delicious!”
Maribel winks and sips at her own coffee with a gentle smile etched across her features.
“Erm…” I clear my throat, taking my own advice and being more forward, carefree… unafraid. “I think I should get a job. I mean, I’ve only got about fifty dollars left and I want to be helpful. Pay for your kindne—”
“Let me stop you there, hon. You will never have to pay me for my kindness.” Maribel leans forward and takes one of my hands in hers. “Kindness is free. Okay?” I nod slowly, finding it difficult to fully digest what she’s saying. “That being said, a job would be a great idea if that’s what you’re thinking. Is there anything you’d like to do?”
I love that she isn’t asking about my actual experience, which is zero, instead, she’s asking something that I haven’t even asked myself. I don’t know what I’d like to do. Other than the whole escape and head to the address Mom made me memorize thing, my planning is pretty non-existent.
“I have no idea.” I’m going with honesty. That’s the person I want to be. Honest and kind.
I can feel my cheeks heating a little with embarrassment, but I smile through it, and Maribel’s returning grin doesn’t feel forced.
“My friend Lucy and her husband own a coffee shop in town, and with Christmas around the corner, they’re looking for some extra staff.”
“That actually sounds really good. Should I call?” With my new love of this black liquid, it feels like the Morai are dealing their fateful hand and dropping what I need in my lap. Plus, using a phone for the first time will be an adventure all by itself.
The collar of the white shirt Maribel loaned me feels uncomfortable against my neck, but I’m not complaining. The sleeves are long, thankfully covering my arms, and the fleece-lined coat is keeping me warmer than I imagined as I walk toward the coffee shop. It’s only fifteen minutes away from Maribel’s, and it’s pretty much a straight walk.
The constant sound of rumbling engines seems to follow me, but that must be an outside thing. I haven’t spent much time out in the real world by myself, so this is probably normal. If I’m being honest with myself, I quite like the sound. It reminds me of the kind man with crazy friends who took me to Maribel’s yesterday.
Bear… Brock.
It was surprising to learn his mom ran the home I was trying to get to, and even more surprising to learn that it had been burned down. The knowledge helped me understand why I felt drawn to him in a way, like knowing this made everything he said and did seem more believable.
He made me feel a lot of other things too, but I’m not ready to unpack that. Depending on the size of this town, I may never even see him again.
The coffee shop comes into view and my heart begins rapidly beating against my chest, but if I’m going to give life a shot, I need to push through some of my fears.
After interacting with some of the women at Maribel’s, I realize that my attitude is surprising considering what I’ve been through. The thing is, my mom gave me hope before I left her, and yeah, it’s been like twelve years since we saw each other, but the attitude she instilled within me, plus my training on how to present myself in a lot of situations, have both made me stronger. I know this. I’m thankful, in some ways, for the things I’ve been able to learn.
Maybe the trauma of it all will catch up to me one day and rip me apart like everyone expects, but for now, I’m just trying to live. I know that life I escaped from can’t be what fate has in store for me. For anyone, really. I’m actually proud of myself because, by all accounts, I should be broken. But I’m here. Still breathing. Living.
I intend to do that to the best of my limited ability.
With a deep breath, I open the door, loving the tinkle of the little bell, and walk inside. Maribel already explained some of the things I’ll be expected to do while working here.
“Hey, you must be Athena?” A petite lady with short gray hair and a huge smile holds her arms up high from behind the cash register.
There are round wooden tables surrounded by matching chairs with soft, cushioned seats, and the lighting is what I can only describe as ambient. Two rows of cakes and treats behind a sheet of glass sit beside the cash register, and the whole place looks kinda cozy. There’s a small bookcase in one corner of the room with a couple of soft armchairs facing each other, like a little corner of luxury.
“I am. Are you Lucy?” I walk farther into the coffee shop and the lady moves swiftly around the counter to greet me, her hand outstretched.
“That’s right. Now, I don’t like to ask, but I need to gauge where you’re at and I can easily show you the ropes with anything you’re unsure of. What kind of experience do you have?” She seems nice enough, but it’s kinda overwhelming to understand how so many people can be like this when all I’ve ever known is the opposite.
“Er… none.” I keep my back straight and try not to fidget, perfectly poised.
“That’s fine. You’ll pick everything up in no time. I just have some forms for you to fill out, social security number and all the boring things.” She’s quick and efficient, turning to grab the papers from the counter before passing them to me. “If you think this will be a good fit for you, we can have our first training and trial tomorrow. You’ll get to meet Wesley.”
The tinkle from above the door sounds, and Lucy’s bright smile doesn’t falter. Instead, her eyes light up, and it’s infectious.
“The mid-morning rush is about to begin, so I’ll see you in the morning, okay? Around seven.” Lucy pats my upper arm and I immediately regret flinching because her eyes dull a little and her smile shows the thing I’m so desperate to forget. Pity.
Nodding, I attempt a smile in return and leave, knowing I will probably never see her again because I feel like I’m failing at the first hurdle. I’m hoping Maribel can help me figure it out because I’ve never even heard of a social security number before.
The rumble of engines outside comforts me a little and calms my racing heart, the wide open space is relaxing and I wish I had the money to spend frivolously on one of Lucy’s coffees because the place smelled amazing.
Okay, I can do this. I can totally do this.
I didn’t come this far only to get in my own way.