Chapter Thirty-One
Theo
Isaw Esther’s expression go slack, her golden skin paling even in the fluorescence of the new motion lights I’d installed along the driveway. When I spun around, I expected to find an assailant, an attacker, a man in a ski mask with a crowbar.
What I didn’t expect to see was a middle-aged couple wielding crumpled up pieces of paper in their waving fists.
At first, I couldn’t even understand the words they were yelling, I only knew it was directed at Esther. I shifted on instinct, shielding her from them with my own body, but I should’ve known Esther wouldn’t let that fly. She pushed forward to stand beside me.
“What is the meaning of this?” the older woman shrieked. From the look of her, she could only be Esther’s mother. She was slender as a reed, devoid of any curves that I could see, but she had the same shining black hair and high cheekbones as her daughter.
The man, half a foot shorter than me and apparently the source of Esther’s pale green eyes, glared at her with such fury that Esther actually jerked back at my side.
“Haven’t you done enough with your ridiculous truck? How could you do this to your mother?”
“Hold it right there,” I said, raising my palm to stop them from advancing on her. “What exactly are you talking about?”
Her father shoved the paper into my hand and I smoothed it out.
Esther peered around my shoulder at the image printed there.
It was a nude couple having sex, the woman’s bare breasts thrust upward as she straddled the man’s lap.
I knew immediately that it was fake, but Esther’s face was superimposed on the woman’s body.
It was quite convincingly done, actually.
Esther’s gasp of horror gutted me, but my gaze caught on the note at the bottom, which read, Trash, just like you.
“Where did you get this?” I demanded.
“They came through the mail slot at our home,” her father replied stiffly. “Both pictures.”
At his gesture, Esther’s mother handed me the other one, which was a different pose but similarly edited. I knew more about Esther’s body than my own, but to someone who didn’t, I could see how they’d be fooled.
This one said, Reap what you sow.
Since her father was right in front of me now, I looked straight into his eyes as I tore the two printouts down the middle and said coldly, “I don’t know who did this, but they’re fake.
That’s not your daughter, it’s sure as hell not me, and I’d like to know why your first inclination was to come here and start blaming her for someone else’s behavior, especially when it seems clear to me that you are the target of these notes at the bottom. ”
The older man sputtered for a moment, his gaze shifting between the two of us. “I’m not the one with a crude joke on my business cards. What did she expect with a business name like that?”
My patience, already down to a swiftly unraveling thread, snapped when I felt Esther stiffen beside me. I opened my mouth to tell him where he could go with that judgmental, victim-blaming bullshit, but Esther stepped forward to stare her father down.
“I want you to get the hell out of here,” she told them both.
“And do not come back. As far as I’m concerned, I have no parents.
You ensured that the minute you sent me back to an abuser when I came to you for help.
I’m sure if you pretend whoever sent these doesn’t exist, you’ll be able to move on as happily as you did when you refused to help me. ”
Internally, I cheered for her, though I hadn’t realized just how deeply messed up her relationship with her parents was. Knowing she’d gone to them during the misery of her marriage and been sent away was one thing, but seeing their disdain in person?
It made my blood boil.
Both of her parents fell silent, staring at Esther like they barely recognized her. Though her mother opened her mouth to speak, she snapped it closed again, looking mildly contrite. After a quick glance at my scowl, the two of them turned around and got back into their car.
Esther stayed perfectly still as the headlights blinded us before they pulled out of the driveway.
I shoved the torn pictures into my pocket. “Let’s go inside,” I murmured. At her nod, I started toward the guest house, but she shook her head.
“Your bed. Now, please,” she whispered.
Suddenly, she looked more fragile than I’d ever seen her, like she might crumble under my hands.
I locked up the guest house before wrapping my arm around her waist to guide her to the side door.
A fine tremor had started working its way through her body, some mixture of adrenaline and cold.
Even so, she stopped to pet Toni when we walked into the kitchen.
“Why don’t you get into bed?” I suggested. “I’ll be right up after I give her some dinner.”
Esther nodded again, altogether too pliant.
I watched her until she disappeared up the stairs, fed the cat, then smoothed out the pictures I’d torn without even thinking that they were more evidence to turn over to the police.
Once they were flattened and reassembled, I snapped photos on my phone and emailed them to Rose with a quick note about what went down.
Then I shoved the ripped pages into the cupboard over the fridge where Esther wouldn’t stumble across them.
By the time I got upstairs, she was curled up in the fetal position under my blankets.
I stripped down and slid in to join her.
She moved toward me like a magnet until she was in my arms at last. It might’ve been barely forty-eight hours, but it was like I’d been going through withdrawal without her near me.
“Doing okay?” I asked softly.
With a shuddering sigh, she nodded. “That wasn’t the homecoming I planned to give you.”
“Fortunately for you, I’m a simple man. This is all I need.”
It was true. I felt like I’d been missing a limb, like I was finally complete again now that I had her in my arms. The trembling had stopped, though her cheeks still felt colder than the rest of her against the warm skin of my shoulder.
I would happily hold her like this all night if that was what she needed.
After a few minutes, though, she tipped her face up to mine. “This isn’t some kid playing thoughtless pranks,” she said quietly.
“No,” I agreed.
Though I knew most teens these days could probably manage that kind of photo editing from their phones, this felt distinctly more targeted than the previous acts.
Whoever was behind this went to a lot of trouble to not only create the images, but to hand deliver them to Esther’s parents in the next town over.
The other pranks had been generic bullying moves, even if the box of peanuts was more inherently dangerous.
“Your parents don’t approve of the food truck, obviously.”
She scoffed. “Understatement. They don’t approve of any part of my life. Not only did I not follow their chosen path, my marriage was a failure, owning a food truck isn’t a respectable career to begin with, and I chose a business name that they find crude. I’m an all-around disappointment.”
“No,” I said, rolling us so I could cup her chin in one hand.
I kissed the tip of her still-cold nose and added, “You, Esther Malek, are the epitome of success. You not only survived a marriage that would’ve crushed most people, you managed to build an entire life for yourself after that.
You have a job that helps countless kids to never have to feel the kind of isolation you did when you were young.
Your business is thriving because of how amazing you are. ”
A single tear rolled down her cheek. I caught it with my thumb, then smoothed her hair back from her face. It was true, every word of it, but I managed to choke down the others that came to the tip of my tongue, the ones that said I was well on my way to falling in love with her.
Esther cleared her throat, like maybe there were words she had to swallow, too. “I’d guess there are other people who hate the truck. All this could be some weird attempt to shame me into closing it down or changing the name.”
I chewed on that for a minute. “Has anyone else ever complained?”
“No, not to me. Dolores Brody down the street bitched to your mother about the truck being parked in the driveway last year, but you know your mom. She quoted the town’s by-laws that allow it verbatim and suggested Mrs. Brody read up on such things before ‘spewing vitriol,’ I believe were Anita’s exact words. ”
Grinning, I said, “Oh, man, I would’ve paid to see that. Mrs. Brody is the worst. She was always the one who ratted us out when we ran through her lawn as kids.”
“Still, there might be others, I guess.” She sighed softly. “I can’t see Mrs. Brody scouring the internet for nude photos, nevermind having the skill to put my face on them. If she owns a computer, it’s probably from the late nineties.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing, trying to imagine the little old lady down the street sitting in front of a boxy computer monitor as she hatched her evil plan.
After a second, Esther joined in, giggling helplessly against my chest. While we laughed, the tension ebbed slowly from our bodies, leaving us both languid by the time the giggles ceased.
“God, I’m happy to be back,” I said without thinking.
Esther froze for an instant, then relaxed again, her lips tickling my ribs when she murmured, “I’m happy you’re back, too.”
That wasn’t exactly a declaration, not something I could ascribe any deep meaning to, but it felt good. I let it buoy and bolster me, both my own feelings on the subject and hers, too.
If I had anything to say about it, we wouldn’t need to be apart again anytime soon.