Page 3 of Peaches & Pistols

“I’m sure there’ll be a park. This is the biggest adventure we’ve ever gone on. But you and I can get through anything as long as we’re together, right?” I hope she can’t hear the desperation in my voice.

“Yep!” She starts singing an adorably off-key song from one of her favorite shows.

I don’t have a cell phone, but I’ve paid lethal attention to the streets and landmarks in our city, so I navigate us to the bus stop without trouble, tossing my now-useless housekey down a storm drain on the way. In the weather shelter, I check the bus schedule.

Carter called around seven-thirty. It took us maybe twenty minutes to walk here. The A-line should be picking up any minute. God, I hope we didn’t miss the bus because the B-line doesn’t pick-up for another hour.

Everly stands on the bench below the information board and studies it as intensely as I am, ever my little copy-kitten.

The air-brakes on the bus inflate my lungs with anticipation. After paying our fare, Everly be-bops down the aisle to where she wants us to sit and gleefully takes the window seat.

Paranoia sets in immediately. The bus is half-full during the morning commute, but despite the prickle of bugs crawling beneath my skin, no one’s eyes are on us.

“Mama, can I color?” Everly’s tiny hand pats my thigh.

“Yea, baby. That’s a great idea.”

“I’m gonna color you a picture. DON’T LOOK!” she orders, and I promise I won’t peek until she’s finished with her masterpiece.

Grateful for her distraction, I watch the city go by over the cloud of her frazzled hair and take inventory of our situation.

We did it.

We got out.

We have some essentials, and I have the money I’ve socked away over the years. As soon as we got home from our honeymoon, the Carter who wooed me was gone, and our home turned into a prison. I started saving for this exact moment, not knowing then, when this would be.

The more miles stretch behind us, the more my shoulders lower from my ears.

I shift to get comfortable, and my hip screams at me. Heat floods to my cheeks from the pain and memory from which it came.

I let the grief of missing my big sister coat the walls of my veins with agony, allowing myself to feel the feelings I’ve repressed all these years.

Yesterday was Charlie’s death anniversary, and my distracted grieving led to a dinner below Carter’s standards. His cruel words ricochet inside my throbbing skull so loudly I want to cover my ears. My mistake of serving him that meal, knowing what his reaction would be, tore straight through the paper-thin walls around my heart.

Tears only spurred Carter on, so I learned to hide them for my own survival. The weaker I appeared, the worse my consequences were. But I just wasn’t strong enough to hold myself together last night.

What was already one of the worst days of the year ended with me locked in the guest bathroom enduring a cold shower in hope it might minimize the swelling and bruising on my battered hip.

I’m so sorry, Charlie. I miss you so much.

A bump on the road brings me back to the present, where I’m on a bus with my daughter running for our lives.

“Excuse me.” I tap the shoulder of the woman in the row ahead of us. “What time is it?”

“Five till nine, dear.”

“Thank you.”

If Everly’s bladder holds another hour, we can get off to stretch our legs. If it’s a small town, the library should be easy enough to find.

Everly will be enamored with fresh bookstacks and hopefully I can use the internet to map the journey to our new life.

The passing road sign cheers that we’ve officially left the city I hope to never return to.

I can finally breathe.

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