Chapter 13
Marissa
“I have something for you,” Susan says out of nowhere while playing with DJ.
I look up from his giggling face. “Oh. For me? What?”
“That money is for you, do you hear me? Not for DJ. For you,” she emphasizes.
“I… don’t know what to say. Thank you, Susan, from the bottom of my heart, but this is too much.”
“Hush,” she waves her hand at me. “It’s only $5,000. I want you to have some breathing room until you get back on your feet.”
“I don’t think it would be right for me to take this, I mean, I’m no longer with Dylan,” I protest.
Susan fishes a delicately embroidered handkerchief from her bosom. “You’ve more than earned this. Don’t even mention that boy to me,” she says in a shaky voice. “He had it all, only for that awful harpy to come back and ruin everything.”
Susan cries as I watch impassively. I have no more tears left to waste on her son.
“He was so happy with you, Marissa. I don’t know what happened.”
There’s no point in explaining to her that he wasn’t.
“I don’t know either,” I tell her sadly.
“You were like the daughter I never had, and I want you to know how much I appreciate all that you’ve done for me.
And most of all,” she says and takes a deep breath like it’s hard for her to admit this, “I never felt like you were judging me for…” She trails off, looking down at her body as if no words were necessary.
“I would never, Susan.” I grab her hand, and she squeezes it gratefully.
“I know that,” she says with a small smile. “When you sent Rachel over with my groceries, she came in for a cup of coffee, and she eventually told me how worried she was and that you had lost your job and weren’t leaving your house a lot. I was terrified.”
I frown. “Terrified of what?”
Susan hesitates. “I was terrified you’d end up like me.”
We both cry and hug and promise to stay in touch, and her parting words to me are, “You are always welcome in my home, for as long as you’d like to stay. I want you to know that.”
I’m starting to believe her.
As Hawk drives us towards our new life, I look at my son and feel myself choking up. He doesn’t even know that he’s moving away from his father, and the only living grandparent he has. So small and already adrift, his nuclear family torn apart, living between two cities and two homes.
“We can get you a job in Tucson if you’d rather not move,” Hawk says in a stilted voice, and I quickly wipe my eyes.
“I’m not crying because I want to stay. Dylan’s mom was so nice just now, she even gave me some money to help tide me over,” I explain. “I was moved and surprised by her kindness.”
For a few minutes, Hawk drives without saying anything. “Boy, your mom really did a number on you.”
I snort. “So you’ve said, multiple times, but it’s nice to put a grimace to the statement.”
“I’m serious. Why wouldn’t Susan be kind to you?
From what you’ve told me, you two have a great relationship.
Her son cheated on you; only an insane person would blame you for that.
Sometimes I feel like your mom’s mantra, "Don’t expect anything from anyone," has conditioned you to set the bar abysmally low.”
“Maybe you’re right. Rachel has always tried telling me that.”
“Tried how?”
“Dylan isn’t taking care of you the way he should.”
“Mind your business, Rachel,” Truck says on his way out, but she waves him off impatiently.
“I don’t need my boyfriend to take care of me financially,” I protest, almost offended.
I don’t want people in the club to think I got pregnant on purpose like some gold digger.
Rachel persists. “But that’s what bikers do.
They take care of their women. You don’t get it.
An old lady wants for nothing; prospects drive them around, mow their lawns, get their groceries, and the club brothers fix things around the house for them.
They’re queens. All I’m saying is that in the context of the MC, in the shared language they all speak, Dylan’s telling you you don’t matter. And it makes me livid.”
“She criticized the way Dylan and I split the bills,” I say self-consciously.
“I insisted on covering the groceries when I moved in, because he was paying the mortgage and utilities. When he bought me the car, I always paid for my own gas, stuff like that. I never had a problem with that, but Rachel did.”
I finally look up at Hawk’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and he seems focused on the road.
“Did groceries include diapers, formula, that type of shit?” He asks almost angrily after a few minutes.
“Yeah, I mean, in the beginning, I breastfed, so it was just diapers, but yeah. Dylan always told me to tell him when DJ needed something and he’d take care of it, but it felt stupid to ask for every little thing. I’d tell him if it was a large purchase.”
Hawk’s silent again, and I get this sick feeling in my stomach, like I’ve done something wrong.
“If someone earns twice as much as you do, it’s not exactly fair to do things 50/50, is it?”
“Probably not.”
“Have you two talked about this?”
“Not really,” I admit, my face heating. I feel so stupid. “I…” I take a deep breath and focus on DJ’s sleeping face. “I was in a weird place in life when I met him, and I let myself be carried, like a plastic bottle in a river.”
Like I’m doing now.
“Your friend was right. You shouldn’t have to ask your man for every little thing,” he says, more kindly this time.
“Well, that’s a pointless conversation to have now,” I say, my tone falsely light. “Hindsight and all that.”
Hawk turns the music up slightly and hums to a song about a woman named Anya.
I feel so drained all of a sudden.
I close my eyes and finally allow myself to think about the huge rock I noticed on Rebel’s finger. I can almost taste the humiliation I felt.
There’s this sick need inside me to casually ask Hawk what he thought of Rebel, in the hopes that he’ll say she’s nothing special. Or that we’re nothing alike. Or, in a fantasy world, that I’m so much better than she is.
I don’t give in to it.
“Marissa,” Hawk calls out to me as he pulls over onto the breakdown lane.
“What?” I ask.
“Are you alright?” He rummages around the glove compartment and hands me an energy bar of some sort. “Your lips have gone white. Eat that. Now.”
I obey only because I’m starving. Have I even eaten breakfast, with all the packing anxiety this morning?
I hear the door open, and then Hawk pulls me out of the car. His arm around my waist feels nice. He is so big and solid. I lean into him at first, but then I abruptly step back.
Stupid, stupid Marissa. Already looking for another man to lean on. Haven’t you learned anything?
“Are you alright?” He asks, his warm, chocolate eyes scanning my face.
He runs his hand over his head, and I wonder what it feels like. I don’t think I’ve ever touched a shaved head before.
“I am now.”
He looks like he’s gonna hug me, and I can almost smell his fresh, green-smelling perfume, but then, he doesn’t.
“Should we get back on the road?” He asks, and I nod.
When we enter Phoenix, memories of the life lived here swirl around my head. Memories of high school, Mom…
“How do you feel about everything? The move, the jobs?” Hawk asks. “Are you excited, nervous, scared?”
As soon as I told Hawk I’d be accepting his offer, he put all his focus and incredible attention to detail into making this a pleasant transition for us.
Since the club owns several businesses and I kept telling him I could work “wherever”, Hawk took it upon himself to talk to their HR person, a woman named Bev, and arranged for me to spend a week at each business, observing and helping out.
After five weeks, hopefully I’ll be able to decide which one I like best.
“I’m excited to try out the different jobs, but I’m anxious about leaving DJ with someone again,” I admit.
Hawk reassures me for the millionth time.
“We’ll go at your pace. I told you: our compound has military-grade security, and both my house and the businesses are on it.
Dana’s niece is club-adjacent, has experience, and all the necessary CPR certifications.
If you decide to hire her, she can watch DJ in my house, which is full of surveillance cameras.
The background check I ran on her came back clean, but if you allow it, I’d like to be present at the interview to get a better sense of her as a person. ”
This potential babysitter sounds amazing. Hawk told me she was studying Childhood Development, which I’m sure would be beneficial to DJ. She’s willing to watch him at Hawk’s fortress for a reasonable hourly rate, and, apparently, has passed his background check, which makes me think.
“Did you run a background check on me?”
“I did. Are you mad?”
“No, I get it. Did you learn anything interesting?”
“Just your middle name.”
Oh no. I’m horrified, but he’s grinning.
“Althea. What a lovely name.”
I groan. “You know my mother was a Deadhead, right? It’s a song of theirs.”
“Oh, I know,” he says, and I pray he doesn’t start singing. “You haven’t asked me whether we’ll pay you during the five trial weeks and how much?”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I have some money to tide me over until I start working for real.”
Thanks to Susan.
“You’ll be working for real right away, Marissa. Geez, you’re killing me,” he sighs. “Bev will give you all the details related to pay, health insurance, stuff like that. You’ll meet her at the party today.”
“Which party?”
“Bev insisted on having a barbecue-type thing, I think. To welcome you.”
“Hawk!” I shout, almost waking DJ up. “I need to bring something!”
“I’m sure it'll be fine,” he says casually.
“I’m sure it won’t!” I hear the shrillness in my voice, but can’t help it. “I can’t show up empty-handed to my first-ever meeting with them!”
“Fine, fine, what do you want to buy?”
“A cake. Cupcakes. I don’t know. Just take me to a bakery you know is good.”
DJ wakes up as we pull up to the bakery, and Hawk agrees to stay in the car with him while I run out. Ten minutes later, I open the back door.
“Ta-da!” I victoriously shove the large box under his nose. “I got their bestseller! Last one left!”
He peers at the box as he presses his lips together. “Rum cake?”
“Yes! The baker swore up and down that it’s their best cake. And it looks great, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” he says, not matching my enthusiasm.
“Do you not like the cake? I can return it,” I ask as we settle back into our respective seats.
“Marissa,” he says, and I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. He winks. “Relax.”