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“No, it’s not. You’re a singer, not a...”
“Not a what?” I placed both hands on my hips and glared at him expectantly.
He shook his head but didn’t speak.
“Look, you may think I’m this naïve country girl but you haven’t got the first clue about me, H. You have no idea the responsibilities I have.” He studied me for a few seconds and tilted his head to the side.
“Tell me then.”
I rolled my eyes and let out a long sigh, “You don't want to open up any of this baggage, sugar.”
“Baggage? You married?”
I snorted and replied, “Nope, definitely not. Thank God.” Marriage wasn't Jimmy's style.
“Kids?”
When I kept quiet and glared back at him his eyes went wide.
“Shit. You have kids?” He asked and leaned forward with his arms crossed in front of him.
“That’s none of your business.”
“You do, don’t you? Shit.” he shook his head and let his torso rest back against the wall. “Where are they? With the father?”
“The kids are with my Mama, and their Daddy is dead, I hope.” I replied unapologetically and crossed my arms over my chest as I pictured Jimmy lying on the floor in the kitchen next to the cast iron skillet I used to knock his ass out. After that, I hurried past him carrying both babies out of the door. The fact that no police had come looking for me meant that his death was unlikely.
“Why? Did he beat you?”
“No, he didn't beat me. We fought... with our fists. All the time.”
“Shit.” He repeated as he ran a hand over his face. The need to explain myself was overwhelming. I was telling him things I’d never told anyone and it was suddenly important to me that he understood my perspective.
“He got away with smacking me once and after that, I vowed to match him blow for blow. It gets tiring, you know? Kids shouldn't have to see that, live that kind of life. So I left him.” H remained silent as he stared at me, his expression unreadable but his jaw ticked like crazy.
“Hey, I'm okay and I can take care of my kids and me just fine.” I offered lightly as a way to change the mood. The look he gave me appeared an awful lot like pity and I couldn’t stand it. The more I allowed myself to dwell in the past, the more depressed I got over my failures as a mother.
“I have no doubt about that but there is a difference between living and gettin’ by, woman.”
“All of this,” I waived a hand around me, “is temporary.” It was what I kept telling myself but I really didn’t have much of a plan, if I was going to be honest. The past four years of my life had all fallen under the temporary category. Temporarily homeless, temporarily jobless, yet I was shaping up to be a failure as a permanent mother, too. My shoulders sagged as I thought about how close I was to not being able to pull myself together for my kids.
H studied me for a moment then looked at his watch. “Listen, it's dead out there, do you want to get out of here early. Maybe go to the diner down the street and grab something to eat?”
His voice cut through my thoughts and my stomach picked that moment to growl, incredibly loud.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He laughed. I thought about another couple of hours of sitting on drunk customers’ laps and trying to make what would probably only amount to a few more bucks. Suddenly going back in there was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Yeah, I’ll meet you there.” I answered with my lips turning up slightly. It was hard not to smile at him, there was something about being in his presence that lifted my spirits a little.
****
I made it to the diner before he did. I’d already ordered a coffee and was sipping it, wondering if he would show up. That was until I heard the faint rumbling noises of the Camaro from the parking lot. When H stepped inside, he scanned the room before his eyes came to rest on me. A small grin spread across his face and he started toward me. The way he moved across the floor was fluid and sure. Unlike Jimmy, who was always looking over his shoulder or surveying the faces like there might be someone he owed money to in the room. No, H’s intense gaze was focused on me.
“Hi.” He slid into the booth on the other side of the table then smiled.
“Hi.” I replied and grinned back.
We ordered breakfast and made small talk. He asked me about where I was from and my music. It was obvious we were avoiding the topic of my ex and the life I was trying to leave behind. H seemed genuinely interested and let me do most of the talking. He nodded and asked questions. The kind of questions that showed he was paying attention to me and not just looking for a break in the conversation where he could start talking about himself.
