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“What do I want?” he repeated in a singsong voice. “Oh, yes. What’s mine. My little girl. Brittany is mine.”
I half laughed as I glanced out the window of the gas station, half expecting him to be standing in the parking lot watching me. I couldn’t put anything past the horrible man. Plus, I’d remained jittery since the incident with the man who’d tried to rob me. At least the asshole was behind bars. Thanks to an unusual hero. Sadly, he couldn’t come to my rescue this go-around.
“Her name is Britta, you asshole. You couldn’t care less about her. What do you really want?”
“Oh, I care very much. I’m her daddy, and she belongs to me, not some trailer trash from Jersey. Name calling isn’t your style. Did you grow a backbone?”
It had been the standing joke, something he knew I’d hated since my mother had originally been from Jersey. Or so I’d heard. I would have no idea really since I knew almost nothing about her. I’d grown up in foster care after my mother had been murdered.
A customer walked in and I watched as the lone figure headed for the coffee machines. “Listen. I’m at work and don’t have time for playing games. If there is something you want other than to tell me you’re sending me a check for the back child support you owe, then do it now. Otherwise, do not call me again.”
“Which glorious job are you working at? The gas station or being a slut serving drinks? Both jobs aren’t acceptable methods of providing for my daughter. You are very much an unfit mother, Jessie. I’m coming to see my daughter. If you don’t let me in, I will contact the sheriff.”
“Fuck you, James. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.”
I ended the call, trying not to toss my phone across the room. I’d need to change my phone number once again. I started out at the morning sky, hating everything about my life. The only good news about today was that Britta was on a field trip with her kindergarten class and I wouldn’t need to pick her up until after six. At least I could get through the horrors of the day, including the meeting with the Cawthorne jerk.
“Did you find everything you need, Sam?” At least the man was one of my regulars.
“I sure did, Jess. How are you doing today?”
I rang up his coffee, taking the money as I tried to pull my mind off the horrors I was facing. “Not bad. And you?”
“Pretty darn good. So, I was wondering when you might consider going out with me.” He grinned after asking me the question, like he had the other five times he’d asked me out.
“Now, Sam. You know I have a lot on my plate including caring for my daughter.” Mentioning I was a single mother usually helped me lose some of the riffraff who’d asked me out before. Sam didn’t seem daunted. In fact, I wasn’t entirely certain why I hadn’t accepted his offer other than he was much older and a rancher. As if that should matter in the least.
“One day I’m going to wear you down.” He kept the happy grin on his face, the challenge one I kind of liked.
“Who knows. Maybe you will. Have a great day, Sam.”
“You too, Jess. Chin up. Things will get better.”
Maybe he’d overheard my conversation. Granted, it was almost impossible not to raise my voice when talking to my ex. Why was he really doing this now? I rubbed my arms, thankful I was getting off in a couple of hours and didn’t have to work that night. It would give me some time to think and plan after Cawthorne left.
I glanced at my phone, chewing on my lower lip. Maybe Megan could help. She certainly understood the state system better than I did, having lived in Colorado her entire life. After dialing her number, I paced the floor behind the cash register, wondering if I should take the shotgun with me back to the house. No. I’d refused to have any weapons in my house for a reason. However, I did have one fine piece of steel work in a baseball bat I kept hidden in my bedroom. At least I’d pull that out, giving James a taste of his own medicine.
“Hey, girl. I was just getting ready to call you. Are we still on for lunch today?” Megan asked as soon as she answered the phone.
“Can we do it at eleven-thirty?”
“You mean an hour from now?” Megan laughed.
“Too soon?”
“No, that’s perfectly fine. I don’t have a tough schedule today. Where would you like to meet?”
“How about Jazzy’s Bistro?” It was one of my favorite little lunch spots mostly because I didn’t feel guilty the few times I’d enjoyed lunch out given the prices were more than reasonable.
“Sounds great. And my treat.”
“No. You don’t need to do that.”
“Stop it. Call it an early birthday treat.”
Laughing, I wanted to remind her once again I no longer celebrated birthdays or most holidays but around my best friend, it was no use. “Okay, fine. I’ll see you in an hour.”
That would give me plenty of time to get back home and prepare. Sadly, I hadn’t been able to find a copy of the lease agreement. Without that, I was terrified that the day and the wretched week were only going to get worse.
