Chapter 20 ~ Isabella
Six months later.
I think I’ve moved this plant like three times. But it’s so pretty and I can’t seem to find the right spot. I look around my tiny apartment. I think I have more plants than furniture.
But it’s all mine. I bought and dragged every piece of furniture in here.
I think they would call it Shabby Chic. Most of my stuff is second hand or something I found by a dumpster or on the curb and I dragged home to repaint.
It’s small, but it’s cozy. It’s done in floras, of varying shades of pinks and creams. I took one little corner and put a small easel and my paints.
I can’t do large canvas like I used to, but I like the work I have been producing.
After a few weeks of living here, I finally ventured outside. I was scared they would find me if I ventured out too far, so I stayed close to my neighborhood. One morning, while dragging a broken chair home, I saw a hair salon, and it gave me an idea of how not to be so afraid all the time.
I put my chair down and stared at myself in the glass.
If I cut it and dyed my hair, I’d be less recognizable.
So, that’s what I did. I cut it short into a bob and dyed it blond.
The need for my shield was over. I was free.
I needed to let go of the old me and make a new one.
It took a few days to stop jumping when I looked in the mirror and recognized myself, but I like it now. It is short and sassy like Anna.
Thanks to Helen, I got a job at the local library.
She supplied a reference for me, so it wouldn’t raise any red flags, and I love the job.
It’s quiet. I get to read all kinds of books, and I’ve met a few people.
Fargo, North Dakota, is my new home. My new name is Elizabeth Brander (Lizzy for short).
I’m 23 years old from Brainerd, Minnesota, and I’m just moving to the big city to start a new life and I have.
I also took a women’s self-defense class.
I figured if tiny Anna could take out a huge guy like Danny, I’d better learn to handle myself, or at least buy myself some time to get away if I’m ever caught.
It was good for me. I gained confidence and met a few other women who, like me, needed to protect themselves.
I never gave them my story, but it felt good to be with other women like me.
They’re just trying to live their lives unafraid.
I love it here. I thought Helen was crazy when I heard the plan.
But she was right. It’s great here. Resting back on my couch, I grab my pillow and hug it around my stomach.
I was so scared when I left. I shook all the way to Saint Paul when I stopped for gas and something to eat.
Trepidation made me cover my head with my hoodie and sit in the far back of the restaurant.
I ate so fast I was nauseous when I got back to the car.
Too afraid to drive, I sat there for a long time gripping the steering wheel and rechecking my rear-view mirror every five seconds for Carlos or Danny to grab me.
But everyone was a stranger and not to be trusted, so I pulled out of the parking lot and drove.
I arrived in Fargo around eight that night and slept in the car in a grocery store parking lot.
Helen had arranged my apartment, but it was too late to bug Mrs. Schmidt.
She is my neighbor and landlord, and I love her to death.
She’s a widow and speaks mostly German, which I know the language well, so we get along great.
I take her shopping. She is forever making me food, and we go for tea.
We spent Christmas together since she has no children to spend the holidays with.
So, I’m like a daughter she never had, and she’s like the Nonna I miss so much.
Only it’s a lot of harsh German words and cabbage.
I’m not lonely per se, but I miss Anna and my job. I miss Chicago. I half ass miss Alexander, but I push that shit to the back of my head every time I smell butterscotch pudding or anything vanilla.
Oh yeah, and Lizzy Brander swears. Well, she is getting better at it.
I’m not as good as Anna, but I will try.
I reach for the tissue and blow my nose again.
It’s March here in Fargo, so it’s cold and snowy and I love it.
I snuggle under my patchwork quilt. I got it at a yard sale last fall, shortly after I moved here.
I was feeling brave that day and went out touring.
It’s bright and colorful and doesn’t match a single thing in the apartment, and it’s my favorite blanket.
A few days after I moved into this apartment, I sold my car. I didn’t want Sebastian to find me in case he found the plates somehow and used them to find me. He’s very good at what he does, and I watch cameras when I’m out and around as well. Who knows what that guy is capable of?
I got a second-hand car with North Dakota plates. It made me feel better, but not safer. I will always have to look over my shoulder, in some sense more so now, but I won’t let anyone take this away, ever. I hold my stomach and sneeze again.
I picked up a cold, which has Mrs. Schmidt over the edge.
She brought me Knoechel soup today, which was super good and made my nose run even more, but she said that it was good for me.
I can feel the chills coming back, and I reach for my slippers to tug them on.
I look myself over and burst out laughing. If Anna could see me now.
I have a cold, my nose is red, I haven’t showered today, and my shorter hair is sticking out all over and most likely half flat on one side from lying on the couch.
My nightgown is something Mrs. Schmidt would wear, and my slippers are big, huge Harry Potter heads.
But I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.
I plop back on the couch and laugh again, and then cough hard.
I know I should go see the doctor because it feels like it’s getting tighter in my chest and today it’s hard to breathe, but I’m scared to go.
That’s a risk I’m not willing to take right now.
I don’t have a medical card. But I don’t know how to go about it.
I don’t want to do or sign anything that could give me away.
I’m too happy here in my vintage bubble.
Besides, Mrs. Schmidt has checked on me every few hours since I got sick.
She is so cute. She tried to give me twenty dollars for cough syrup, but I have money to buy cold medicine and what I need.
Helen had my bank account transferred about a month ago.
She made sure I had enough cash to last a few months when I left, and then I got the job, so I basically live on my wages.
I don’t need more, never did. Unless It’s necessary, I try not to use my bank account.
I get up, go to my tiny kitchen, and turn on the kettle.
I need tea with lemon. This always helps the chest and sore throat, or so my Nonna always told me.
I grab the tea out of the cupboard, take my Ronnie mug down, and put the tea bag in.
I stroke the cup and smile. Sebastian really is brilliant and smarter than Hermione ever thought of being.
My kettle is whistling, jerking out of my thoughts as I pour hot water over it and watch the tea bag swirl in the mug. I get the lemon juice out of the fridge and the honey out of the pantry and start brewing my tea. I take a drink and blow over the top. Ahhh! So good.
I snuggle back on the couch and flip on my tiny television and put on Year One.
I have another coughing fit and have a hard time catching my breath after this one.
If I feel like this now, I don’t think I’ll be going to work tomorrow.
I set my empty cup on the table and hold my stomach.
I just feel tired and light-headed tonight.
The movie is half over, and I’m just about to fall asleep when a slight knock on my door wakes me. I sit up and wrap the blanket around me tightly. Mrs. Schmidt is probably checking up on me again. She thinks her soup is the cure-all.
“Ich Komme, warte.” (I’m coming, hold on) I start to cough and open the door.
“Bunny.”
He whispers it almost reverently.
Alexander is in his usual formal dark suit, with a dark wool overcoat and black leather gloves. He looks sexy as fuck and then my brain kicks in to who and what this means.
Alexander reaches for me, and I swing up and block his arm, sweeping it away.
I haul him back and punch him in the throat and knee him in the stomach, pushing him over as he goes down, stepping over him and running.
Wrapping the blanket around myself tightly and I run down the stairs bursting out onto the snow-covered steps and look both ways for my escape.
Carlos is leaning against a blacked-out car and stands up in shock at seeing me, and I panic.
I run down the stairs straight for him; sweep his leg out from under him and he goes down in the snow.
I turn and run, as fast as my feet will carry me.
Holding the blanket closer to me, I keep running when Alexander starts to call after me, his voice getting louder, and I know he’s gaining on me.
I’m running out of wind. The air is so cold on my lungs and my legs are getting pins and needles in them from the freezing temperatures.
Excessive coughing makes me stop and bend over at the waist, huffing little puffs of white mist into the air. I can’t get enough air over the need to cough, and my throat is killing me. Looking around, I may have made it half a block and then I start to cry. I was so happy. I almost had it all.