Smiling with relief I walk away for privacy, lowering my voice. “You got that? Good, I wasn’t sure if you’d go out. Didn’t want the squirrels getting it. Or the lizards.”
There’s no sign of laughter as she whispers, “I ran out of coffee so…”
“Oh, so I saved you a trip.”
“You did.”
“You feeling better or worse?”
“Eric…”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want you calling me anymore.”
My heart stops and I freeze on the grass, whispering and covering the phone with my hand. “Hey Wren if I came on a little strong I just—”
“—I know why, okay? So just stop. Please leave me alone. Oh God,” she whispers, “I have to throw up now. Goodbye Eric.”
The phone goes dead. My blood is thudding in my ears. Ethan walks up to me, hugging his daughter as she pulls at his hair. “What just happened? You look white as a ghost. Is she in the hospital? Let’s go! My car is faster than yours—I’ll drive.”
Staring into nothingness I barely hear him. “She broke up with me.”
Ethan moves to catch my gaze, bending to ask, “What? Are you kidding me?”
In a daze my head shakes slowly from side to side. “She said she doesn’t want me to call her anymore.” Eyes flicking to his I groan, “What am I gonna do?”
He exhales, blinking heavily, stunned. “You’re gonna have to let her go.”
Clutching my chest I give a single nod and walk into the mansion, gather my keys and head for the door. Ethan appears and calls after me, “You okay to drive?”
“No.”
“Stay here until you calm down.”
“No.”
“ERIC, STOP!”
I spin around and see him without Kaya. In the background she’s in her electric swing. Quick strides bring him over to wrestle my keys out of my hand.
“Stop it, Ethan!”
“Let them go!”
“I have to get out of here.”
“You’re staying until you calm down.”
“Give me my fuckin’ keys!”
I feel the fist before I see it coming. Reeling back I grab my jaw and glare at him. He holds the jingling keys to my freedom up, eyebrows high, and sprints for the backyard. I take off after him, but since he surprised me he got the head start he needed. As I explode out the backdoor I see him standing there with a smug challenge in his eyes, palms out, fingers spread and empty.
“Where’d you hide ’em?!”
He smirks, “Oh no, what happened?”
CHAPTER 33
WREN
A week later Eleanor whines over the bar, “I can’t believe this is your last night here!”
Stocking beers at the end of my last shift I sigh, “The bar I’m going to will be better for me. High-income clientele. Bigger tips.”
“Stripping?” she sarcastically asks.
Flattening the empty cardboard box I tilt my head. “Thank you for hiring a babysitter so you could work my last night.”
She shrugs like it’s no big deal, but her eyes are sad. So are mine. “I know I said I didn’t want to know, but now that it’s really happening I can’t stick my head in the sand anymore. Dammit! Fine, tell me. Who are you leaving us for?”
“St. Regis Hotel.”
Her eyebrows rise. “That’s a nice place.”
“It’s beautiful.”
She follows me to dry storage, warning, “You could spend a lifetime at a place like that.”
“So?” I mutter, tossing the flattened box onto the recycling pile, and rolling a heavy keg out next. “I hate hooking these up. Every time they run out during my shift I wince. It’s like moving a cement barrel!”
Eleanor ignores my lame attempt to change the subject. “What about singing, Wren? Are you ever going to do that again?”
“God, you and my mother,” I mumble. “It’s my life, my dreams, what do you care?”
With an empty O’Neal’s behind her, loud music off and the bright house-lights on, Eleanor jabs her finger in the air. “You hear that?”
Dropping the keg in place I look around, “No, did someone knock?”
“You said dreams. Your dreams, Wren! You can’t walk away from those! Not all of us have them!”
“Everyone has dreams.”
“I don’t,” she shrugs. “Unless you count being a good mom, which I am. Unless you count making my kids love me more than they love their dad, which I don’t think you can count—that’s just a selfish goal, but it’s there and I’m making it come true,” she grins, then becomes serious again, “Other than those, I’m just happy living my life my way.”
Latching the hose to the keg and testing it I consider her point. “That’s a dream…living your life your way.”
“Sure, but you know what I’m talking about here. It’s not a God-given talent. I’ve heard you. Your voice is beautiful!”
“There’s nothing wrong with tending bar. It’s a skill. I make a very good drink, and you know it.”
Throwing up her hands she pleads her case, “I know you do! And I never said there was anything wrong with it, did I? I love being a server. My hours are flexible. If my kids need me I can cover a shift. I get cash every day and I don’t have to take off my clothes for it! And I get to meet men! If I didn’t have this job I never would have met Dion, would I, no! What were the chances we’d run into each other in some grocery store? I mean, come on, that never happens.”
I blink at her, thinking of my run-in with Eric at TJ’s.
Grabbing my shoulders Eleanor insists, “I’m just saying that if you were born with a talent like you have, it was given to you for a reason. Don’t forget about it, okay?”
A stillness overcomes me. “Okay.”
She hugs me and I return it. “Did you tell Mike where you’re going from here?”
“Yes. He’s not happy about it, but mostly because of the one-week-notice.”
Rolling her eyes Eleanor heads off to turn the chairs over on the tables so the janitors can vacuum and mop the slime from the floor. “Please, you know how the owners are. Every person who’s given two weeks Carla takes them off the schedule early, anyway.”
Wiping down the
