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Page 30
“Life isn’t about getting an education,” Felicia told her. “It’s about the bonds we form. The connections. You have a wonderful daughter. You’re close enough to your mother that the two of you share a home. My parents couldn’t wait to get rid of me and I’ve never been able to make many friends. Especially women. My social skills have improved but...” She opened her hand, in a gesture of helplessness.
If Felicia had been anyone else, Patience would have teased her about being so beautiful. But she felt the other woman’s pain and wanted to help.
But before she could say anything, the door opened and a man and a woman walked into the store. They were in their early thirties. The woman was pale, with short light brown hair and big blue eyes. She was thin and there was something about the way she walked. Her gait was slow and unsteady. The man wasn’t much taller than her, but he was broad-chested and looked strong. They walked up to the counter.
The man turned to the woman. “What do you want?” he asked.
While the question was normal, the tone wasn’t. There was a snide edge, a meanness.
“Maybe a latte?”
“Oh, sure. My wife always wants the most expensive thing on the menu. You’ll have a coffee.”
The woman flushed, then hung her head. Madeline, the twentysomething who worked the morning shift, looked from the man to his wife and back. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” the man snapped. “She’ll have a small coffee. I’ll have a mocha.” He turned to his wife and gave her a shove. “Get out the money and pay her.”
The woman trembled as she reached for her purse. The sleeve of her loose shirt fell back, exposing a huge, dark bruise.
Patience’s stomach tightened as she fought back nausea. She didn’t have to be a trained professional to figure out what was going on. She rose, then paused when she realized she didn’t know what to do or say. If the man was abusing his wife, she should step in and say something. But what?
Before she could figure out what was the right thing, Felicia stood and walked over to the couple.
“Hi,” she said, stopping beside the man.
He turned to her, looked her up and down, then gave her a leering smile. “You’re a tall drink of water.”
“And you’re a bastard.” She grabbed his wrist and twisted.
Patience couldn’t see exactly what she was doing but suddenly the man was falling to his knees and screaming.
“I’m using the word bastard in the vernacular. I have no way of knowing if your parents were married or not,” she continued.
“Get off me! Somebody call the cops.”
The thin woman took a step back and looked frantically around the room. Patience wasn’t sure if she was looking for help or an opportunity to escape.
“This is your wife,” Felicia told him. “She should be the most important person in your world. You need to treat her with respect and affection.”
“She’s mine and I’ll do what I want with her.”
Felicia twisted his arm a little more, then glanced at Patience. “Did you know that the joints in the shoulder are easily disconnected? It’s a common sports injury. With the right leverage, it pops right out.” She leaned closer to the man. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”
“Who the hell are you?”
Patience walked to the woman. “Hi,” she said quietly. “Do you need help?”
The woman stared at her, her eyes wide.
“It’s okay,” Patience murmured. “You’re safe here.”
The woman stared at Patience for a long time, then shrugged out of her shirt. She wore a tank top underneath, but what was most startling were all the bruises on her arms and shoulders.
“I want help,” the woman said, not glancing at her husband.
“Damn you, Helen,” the man yelled. “I’ll make you pay for this, you bitch.”
“You’re struggling,” Felicia said, her tone conversational. “I’m not going to be able to hold you without...”
There was a loud pop; then the man began to scream.
“Hmm, he seems to have dislocated his shoulder.”
Patience led Helen outside. The screams were muffled on the sidewalk. She fished her cell phone out of her jeans pocket and pressed one of her contacts.
“Charlie? It’s Patience.” She explained what had happened as quickly as she could.
“I’ll be right there.”
The few customers who had been in the store hurried out. A few seconds later, the screaming stopped. Madeline came outside.
“Felicia put his shoulder back in place. He’s really sweating and crying and I think he peed himself. Do I have to clean that up?”
Patience stayed close to Helen. “I’ll take care of it later.”
Helen still trembled, but she didn’t move from Patience’s side. Less than a minute later, Charlie drove up in her truck. She was out of the cab and around to the sidewalk nearly before the engine had stopped rumbling.
She walked right up to the woman and faced her. “You okay?”
The woman nodded.
“Any internal injuries?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Kids?”
Tears filled Helen’s eyes. “I was pregnant once. He beat me so bad I miscarried.”
“Why don’t you leave?”
Patience winced. She knew Charlie’s question was born from frustration, but from the little she knew about abused women, this probably wasn’t the time.
But Helen surprised her by raising her head and squaring her shoulders. “I did. Twice. Then he threatened my mama. She passed nearly four months ago and I packed my bag. He put me in the hospital. I told my doctor and he said for me to be a good wife and go back home.”
She turned back toward the store. “Sam has a way of convincing people he’s not the problem. I am.”
“Not in this town,” Charlie told her.
Two police cars pulled up, with an ambulance right behind it. Mayor Marsha hurried toward them.
“I heard,” the mayor said, smiling at Helen. “Hello, child. If you want to get away from this man, we can help. I know a safe house in another town. He’ll never find you. But you have to want it.”
Helen looked at the mayor. “I want to leave him. I want to break the cycle. I swear, I won’t go back. I swear.”
In a matter of minutes Helen was whisked away in a police car. Police Chief Barns drove up and got out.
“I heard,” she said by way of greeting. “Did Felicia really dislocate his shoulder, then put it back?”
Patience bit her lower lip, knowing she had to tell the truth but not wanting to get her friend in trouble. “I, uh...”
Police Chief Barns smiled. “Impressive. I’m going to need to write a report. I wonder if a man can slip and dislocate his shoulder. Then Felicia was being neighborly by putting it back in place. I’ll have to think on that.”
She walked into the store.
In less than a half hour, nearly everyone was gone. Sam had been taken to the hospital. The police chief had her statement from Felicia, who had insisted on telling the truth. Although Patience had a feeling that the actual report would say something slightly different.
“He’ll be arrested,” Charlie said as they stood by her truck. “More important, if Helen wants to stay gone, she can. Mayor Marsha knows people who can make an abused woman disappear into a new life. She’ll get counseling and help finding a job and an apartment. It’s a chance for her to escape. Let’s hope she takes it.”
“Thanks for your help,” Patience said.
“Happy to.” Charlie looked at Felicia. “You’re my kind of girl. Glad you decided to settle here.”
She got in her truck and drove away.
Patience looked at Felicia. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“I had a lot of the same physical training as the guys. I just didn’t get to use it much. Until now.”
Patience impulsively hugged her. “You were terrific. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I shouldn’t get involved, but you got right in that guy’s face.”
“I hate bullies. He was a jerk.” She brightened. “I wonder if he’s going to sue me.”
“That would mean admitting he was beaten by a girl.” Patience linked arms with her and led her back inside. “Just for the record, you are good with people. I’m just saying.”
* * *
“CAN WE put flowers on the ribbons?” Lillie asked.
Justice glanced at Steve, who held up both hands.
“I’m hardly an expert,” the older man said.
Justice wasn’t, either, but he was good at solving problems. He stepped back and studied the bike. Tomorrow was the Spring Festival—yet another Fool’s Gold tradition. Kids rode bikes and were pulled in wagons all decorated with flowers and ribbons and bows. The festival took place over Mother’s Day so dads were supposed to do the work and the mothers were to watch and marvel. As Lillie didn’t have a father, he and Steve had volunteered to help her decorate her bike.
With the help of a glue gun and fasteners, there were pastel-colored ribbons flowing from the handlebars. A big bouquet of silk flowers sat in the basket. Now the question was how to make a garland they could weave through the spokes.
Lillie sat cross-legged on the grass by the driveway. Steve wove thin strips of plastic through the spokes.
“We could glue the flowers onto this once it’s secure,” he said.
Lillie nodded. “That would be nice.”
Justice studied her. She wasn’t her usual happy self.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, hoping she felt okay.
She looked at Steve. “You’re my daddy’s dad.”
Steve froze, then nodded.
“Did you like him when he was little?”
Justice sank next to her on the grass. That wasn’t the question she wanted to ask, he thought. She wanted to know why her father hadn’t loved her enough to stay.
Steve turned toward her. “I wasn’t there for him, Lillie. I left when your dad was small.”
“Why did you go away?”
“Because I thought work was more important. Because I wasn’t grown up enough to understand what I was losing and work things out with his mom. I regret what I did, but I can’t change it. When I left, I taught Ned a very wrong lesson. That it’s okay to leave your children.”
“It’s not?” she asked softly.
“No, it’s not.”
Justice put his arm around her. She leaned against him, watching Steve.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “How could you go?”
How could he go?
Steve turned away, but not before Justice saw tears in his eyes.
Justice kissed the top of Lillie’s head. “You take a dance class, right?”
She looked at him. “Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Some of the other students are better than you and some are worse, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“The ones who are better can do things you can’t do yet.”
“They can do a lot of things I can’t do. I’m scared to go up on my toes. It’s going to hurt.”
“Some people are better at relationships than others. Some people have a natural ability. Like dance. Others have been hurt along the way and are afraid to try. Your dad was hurt by his dad. That’s not an excuse,” he added quickly, knowing he was giving Ned more of a break than he deserved, but this wasn’t about him. This was about Lillie.
“He’s right,” Steve told her. “My dad was a—” He stopped, then swallowed. “My dad wasn’t a great guy, either. So I never knew what a good dad was like. I walked out on my son and my son walked out on you.”
“Am I going to be like that, too?” Lillie asked, sounding worried.
“No.” Justice held her tight. “You’ll be like your mom, because that’s what you’ve learned. You’ll be loving and kind and you’ll always be there.”
Lillie considered that. “I’d rather be like my mom than my dad.”
“Your dad left because of me and because of who he is,” Steve said. “Not because of you. He’s missing out on a great daughter. I know he’s going to be sorry one day, just like I’m sorry about what I did. But I’m very grateful I’ve had the chance to get to know you.”
“Me, too,” Justice said.
Lillie hugged him, then rose and hurried to her grandfather. She flung herself at him and he held on tight.
Justice stayed where he was, a part of what was happening and still separate.
This was something he would always remember. The warm spring morning, the bright blue sky and the half-decorated bike. But mostly what he would remember was the beautiful girl who gave her heart so easily and asked for so little in return. Ned was an asshole. Worse, he’d hurt his daughter. But Justice had been given a chance to be a part of her life.
Was he willing to put the past behind him and move on? Was he ever going to be at peace when it came to his father, or should he accept that the ghosts were a part of who he was? Accept and finally reach for that which was most precious?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“GO,” Ava told her daughter. “You need to see the parade. Lillie had poor Steve and Justice working on her bike for hours yesterday. Be impressed.”
Patience laughed. “I promise I will be.” She’d seen the scattered remains of their “art” project on the lawn. Bits of flower and twist ties. “I never thought of Justice as the help-at-home type.”