Page 2 of Peaches & Pistols

“Can I bring a coloring book?” Everly asks, scaring me half to death, too lost in my panic to notice her when she should be the only thing I’m focused on.

“Yes, hurry though, it’s time to go on our adventure!” The feigned excitement in my voice barely masks the sheer terror.

One last look at the clock says Carter will be calling in the next few minutes. He always calls as soon as he gets to work to make sure I’m where I’m supposed to be.

Everly returns with a coloring book and the new pack of crayons I snuck into the grocery cart this week.

The clock in the kitchen ticks second by second down to the moment that will change my and Everly’s lives forever. I take the remaining time to regulate my breathing, so my nerves don’t betray my voice.

The shrill tone of the landline ringing stops my heart like it does every time.

“Whitaker residence,” I say as rehearsed, polite but monotone—because otherwise it means I must be flirting with the caller. I’ve had many a split lip to prove it.

“Amelia. You sound better this morning. Your behavior last night was unacceptable.”

I don’t reply. There’s never a safe response.

“What are you filling the day with?” Aside from the household worth of chores and cooking that’s never good enough?

“Everly and I just packed for a park outing.”

“Hmm. Put her on the phone,” he demands coolly.

“Everly, love. Phone.” My mini-me carefully takes the phone, even at her young age, leery of her dad’s mood swings.

“Hi,” she says quietly.

I stand close enough to hear Carter on the other end of the line.

“Mmhmm. My pack-pack is all full and I have my purple water bottle, ‘cause Mama and me are going on an adventure.”

I was careful to tell Everly we’re going on an adventure, because that’s what she calls every outing.

“Here, Mama.” She hands me the phone and patiently stands at my hip with our backpacks at her feet. My hand shakes as I bring it back to my ear.

“I’ll be home for lunch. I expect something fucking edible, Amelia. Not like that garbage you made yesterday.” The call ends, deafening silence ringing in my ears.

My world narrows to a pinprick of light. Overwhelm and adrenaline threaten to pull me under. When my eyes regain focus, I jot a quick note onto the phone pad.

Just let us go.

With what I hope are my last words to my husband, I stroke my daughters wild hair.

“Alright, let’s go on our adventure! Put on your good sneakers, please.” Thank god Carter let me buy her new shoes last week. I slip on my worn sneakers and snag my housekey from its hook. Today will be the last time I ever need to use it.

I help Everly into her backpack, and clip her lunchbox to mine, which I hold onto for dear life. We step into the sunshine, the day already becoming hot this late August morning.

The security camera is recording us leaving—Carter’s surely watching the live feed on his phone. As far as he knows, we’re walking to the park. By the time he notices anything is awry, we’ll hopefully be miles away from this hellhole.

I shut the front door behind us, carefully locking it, and take Everly’s hand. We descend the porch steps together. I don’t bother looking back—there’s nothing in that house other than memories I want to forget.

Everly skips beside me without care in the world, and no idea we’re leaving this life behind. She chatters on about the birds and the neighbor’s flowers as we walk down the block. I hardly catch anything she’s sharing but interject mmhmm’s and smile when she pauses.

“Mama!” Her small hand tugs on mine when I don’t turn down the street toward the park.

“Our adventure is this way, sweet girl.” She follows without fuss.

“Will there be a park?”