18. Elka
Chapter 18
Elka
A nother day and another trip to the post office made my life feel like a twisted version of Groundhog Day , but there was a kind of comfort to be found in something so predictable. I knew there would be a few of the old guys sitting outside talking about the water, The War—though it was never clear which war—and playing cards. I also knew that inside the post office, Bobby and Sheryl would be bickering over which Batman was the best. “Hey, Bobby. Hey, Sheryl. Who are we debating today?”
“Christian Bale,” he said, disgust tripping from every syllable. “Can you believe she had the gall to even mention that man to me?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, Bobby. He is the hottest Batman.”
Bobby threw his hands up in the universal gesture for defeat and waved me over. “Just because your taste in superheroes is terrible, doesn’t mean you aren’t a sweet girl. Business is going well?”
“Seems to be. I’ve been spending more time advertising and I guess it’s paying off.” It was nice that at least one thing in my life was turning out okay. Maybe the next move would be the one that stuck.
“Those candles of yours are dangerous. Thought the wife was making pie. She wasn’t,” he said, shoulders slumped in disappointment.
“All the delicious scent of pie without any of the calories.”
Bobby grumbled because he wasn’t a guy who worried about things like calories, not with his lanky frame and strong wiry arms. “I’d rather have both.” He scanned each of my packages and we went through the tracking numbers box by box. “All done.” He stacked my new order of packing supplies on the edge of the counter and nodded.
“Thank you, Bobby.” I leaned in when Sheryl disappeared to the back and grinned. “Michael Keaton is my all-time favorite Batman.” He flashed a satisfied smile and I gave him a wave as I walked back out into another beautiful day in Tulip.
And right into another person. “Oh, excuse me.”
“No worries. You’re just who I’m looking for, Elka.”
I stared at the man, cataloging his features from his greasy hair to his overgrown facial hair. I didn’t recognize him and alarm bells went off in my head until there was a safe distance between us. I took another quick snapshot of his face and turned away, walking in the opposite direction.
I heard his determined footsteps behind me. “Your parents hired me.”
“I don’t have parents,” I told him simply, even though I knew he wasn’t the type to back down easily.
“Funny, because I’ve seen photos of you together. A real happy family, or so it seemed.” His legs were longer than mine, but I was determined to get the hell away from him. I turned again, heading back towards the post office. “So what’s the deal? You decided you wanted the money more than you wanted your brother?”
“Leave me alone,” I growled through gritted teeth because this guy was seriously starting to piss me off. “You’ve been warned.”
“I’m just trying to talk to you. If you prefer, I can ask your friends what I need to know, but I’m guessing you don’t want that.” His hand wrapped around my shoulder, stopping me instantly. “Do you?”
“You were warned, asshole.” I yanked my hand from my pocket and produced the can of pepper spray I picked up at a military surplus store. I depressed the button right in his face. “Leave. Me. Alone.” I ran inside the post office, hoping I would receive the same warm welcome this time.
Sheryl noticed me first. “Are you all right, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
“There was a guy … he attacked me.” Before I could finish, she wrapped me into a warm, comforting hug.
“Oh, honey, it’s all right.” She rubbed my back and I wanted to cry because no one ever held me like that, except Austin. I stayed there for a long minute, soaking it up before I had to step back. Go home. Maybe run away in the middle of the night.
“Thank you, Sheryl. That was just what I needed.” I took several deep breaths and let them out slowly before marching through the door and outside. Three feet away was the last damn person I wanted to see.
“That’s her. I want to press charges. That bitch tried to blind me!”
Correction. Make that the last two people I wanted to see. “Well,” Antonio barked in my direction. “Do you have anything to say?”
“No, I don’t.” He was already on that jerk’s side and nothing I said would make a difference.
“Now you wait just a minute, Antonio. That man accosted Elka and she asked him to leave her alone. I heard it with my own ears.” Betty Kemp folded her arms, chin notched high in the air, daring the deputy to contradict her.
“I heard it too,” Doreen Brinkley said. “She gave him fair warning and he still put his hands on her.” She smacked her lips and shook her head. I wondered how the guy didn’t wither and die under the weight of her disappointment.
“And me. I heard it too.” I didn’t recognize this woman but she had blond hair and very familiar hazel eyes. If she wasn’t the deputy’s mother, she was his aunt or older sister. “The girl was protecting herself, plain and simple.”
“Doesn’t matter,” the greasy guy spat. “I know where you are, so now they will too. You can’t run forever.”
If that was supposed to terrify me, he was sorely mistaken. My parents didn’t want me—they ever had. And even if they’d had a miraculous change of heart in my absence, they were too late. Too damn late. There was too much hurt, too much anger between us. “Then maybe you should have taken your fee and gone the hell away!” He sneered and I was beyond caring what he thought about me. What Antonio thought of me. Hell, what anyone thought of me.
“You won’t get away with this!” He was practically foaming at the mouth, which only made me slightly curious to know what my parents told him about me.
“You have no clue who I am or what I’m capable of and neither do they, but if I see you around my house or in my personal space again, I will end you.” There was nothing more to say and, finally, I was able to walk away without anyone stopping me.
“Good for you, girl!” Betty Kemp applauded behind me, drawing a tiny smile from me. She was a tough old woman and I hoped I was just like her when I grew up.
“Elka, we need to—”
I whirled around at the sound of Antonio’s voice, the feel of his hand wrapped around my bicep. “Don’t ever put your hands on me again!” Without thinking, I yanked out of his grasp and ran away as fast as I could. It was only when I got home that I realized all my packing materials were still on the bench outside the post office.
Whenever I think a great day is ahead of me, fate cruelly steps in and reminds me that I don’t get great days.
Aim lower, indeed.
The first batch of chili hadn’t turned out so well. I used too many jalapeno peppers and not enough salt. Or garlic. The second batch with lamb and raisins had the perfect amount of spice and it still simmered on the back burner while I worked on the third batch. This one would be perfect. I took recipes from the top ten award-winning chili makers in the country and took a little bit from each one. I was no chef, but I just had a feeling about this one. And if it sounded a little bit pathetic to get so excited about making chili, well that was also true. Dammit.
There was a knock at the door but I was determined to hide away from the world for the next twenty-four hours. At least. Instead of choosing silence, I cranked up the music and hummed along to a song on my own playlist I vaguely recognized.
The knocking grew louder and more persistent and there was only one person that knock could belong to. Determined to get rid of him without losing my cool, I sucked in a long breath, held it for ten seconds, then blew it out for twenty. “Okay. Ready.” When I opened the door, it wasn’t Antonio, but the woman who was somehow related to him. “Yes?”
“I’m Liz. I volunteered to bring your packing materials to you. Going somewhere?”
I was torn between wanting to be alone and not wanting to be rude. Manners took over and I stepped back and waved her inside. “At the moment, no. This is for my business.”
“What kind of business is it?”
Okay, so this wouldn’t be a short conversation. I motioned for Liz to follow me and told her about my business. “Some look at it as aromatherapy and others as holistic accessories, but to me it’s work. Thank you. I wasn’t looking forward to going back for them.” I just had a feeling that no matter when I went back, Antonio would be there. Ready to arrest me. “Tea?”
“Yes, please. And is that chocolate cake I smell?” The woman wasn’t subtle, that much was certain. “The key is to never let them see how much it bothers you.”
“I’m working on that, actually. That’s what this move was all about.” It hadn’t been long, but I already felt changed. Transformed but still imperfect.
“Finding yourself?”
I knew what that tone meant. I’d heard it plenty whenever I expressed an interest to my parents in anything that might cause an injury. So everything. “Something like that. This is a Guinness cake I’ve been working on.”
She smiled and bit into the cake with her eyes closed. The way cake was meant to be enjoyed. “That is wonderful. Just sweet enough. Will it get me buzzed?”
Her question shocked a laugh out of me. “It hasn’t worked for me, so I have my doubts, but let me know.” Maybe the key was more beer or maybe I just needed to get really drunk, cry about my problems, and when I woke up hungover, I’d be all new and transformed. Like in the movies.
“How do you like Tulip?”
“I love it. Mostly.” I didn’t want to offend the woman because this town had pride like I’d never witnessed before.
She arched a blond brow knowingly. “My son is the part making it miserable?” I guessed you didn’t have to live in Tulip full time to be part of the gossip grapevine. “Don’t look so surprised. He’s told me all about you, just like I’m sure you complained to your own mother about him.”
At least she was more subtle than her son about her interrogation. “No, I didn’t. We aren’t close.” There was no point in lying since Antonio had probably filled her in on his version of my life.
“Well you probably know by now how Tulip is, so you know they’re all talking about how wonderful you are and how crazy you’re making my boy.”
“They must have me confused with someone else. Antonio hates me.” Enough to do what he’d done and say what he’d said right after. Nothing could be clearer than that. “He thinks I’m someone I’m not and treats me like the former instead of the latter. I can’t change it and I’m not going to try.” I already tried that and it was madness and depression and insecurity. And it still didn’t work.
“Smart.” Liz dug into her final piece of cake and I cut another slice for her to take with her. “Don’t let any man define who you are or what you can be. Do that for yourself.”
“Thanks, Liz. I’ll keep that in mind.” She stood and I handed her the cake. “For later.”
“Thank you, Elka. Now I don’t have to forget my manners and ask for another piece.” Liz was a fun woman who wasn’t afraid to smile or speak her mind. “Oh, and I have something for you.”
I should have known she hadn’t come just to return my supplies. “A word of warning?”
“Do you need one?”
“I don’t need anything.”
“You need this.” She handed me a long object wrapped in foil. “It’s malagueta pepper. Antonio’s father put it in the chili he made just for me. It’s just what you need.”
Now I felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry, Liz. You were trying to be nice and I … I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, honey. It sounds like things have been rough for you for awhile. Keep the pepper and win the cook-off.”
I snorted a laugh. “I just don’t want it to be so bad that I piss people off.”
Liz threw her head back and laughed. “Never pass up an opportunity to piss people off, Elka. Thanks for the cake!”
Alone again with nothing but my thoughts, I turned the chili to simmer and did what all lonely soon-to-be spinsters did.
I buried myself in work.