Page 50 of Never Till Now

Warm, fresh chocolate greets my nose as we make our way into the shop. I order my ice cream and we head out to the steps in the courtyard square.

“Are you happy with your puddle cream?” Adam shakes his head as he watches my vigorous stirring to achieve the perfect consistency.

“I am. Thank you very much.” I flip the spoon upside down on my tongue and slowly drag it out of my mouth. His eyes track my movement.

“If you keep doing that, I’ll take you up on the offer you gave me before our shower.”

“Adam, there’s people around.” I dramatically raise my eyebrows. “I’m not one for putting on that type of show.”

“Come on.” He stands. “We still have more things to put in your mouth.”

I wear a smile like a child as I hold Adam’s hand and clutch a small turtle-shaped loaf of bread in my other. Up ahead, the large iconic Fisherman’s Wharf boat wheel comes into view across the street. We push through the busy crowd and see a few street performers. The steel drums create the false tropical ambience while other entertainers stand on milk crates dressed as silver-and-gold statues. I squint and look up at the Wharf sign, wishing I had brought sunglasses. Crowds of people gather at the corner waiting to cross the street to the fish market that’s too strong for my liking. Adam gives my hand a small squeeze as I smile faintly.

“Is it too crowded today for you?” he asks.

“I can handle it.” My voice is soft.

“Well, I’ll be.” A Southern accent cuts through the music, sending chills down my spine. “Is that really you, Lauren?”

That voice, on the other hand, is one I don’t think I can handle. Pretend you don’t know the haunting voice, Lauren. Walk away and let Adam make you forget.

“Mabel?” I say her name, losing control of myself.

She has aged in the past fifteen years and it hasn’t been kind to her. Good. Her hand shoots over her heart and she looks up, giving me a feigned expression. If only I was this tall when I needed to be. Adam remains quiet thankfully. My death grip on his hand probably sends a direct message.

“I knew it had to be you.” Her smile churns the bile turning in my stomach. “You’ve grown, but your looks have not. I always wondered if you’d remain the ugly duckling. At least you’re slim.”

Because I was lucky to get two meals a day under your roof.

“Why are you talking to me?” I feel Adam’s grip tighten against my hand and watch his jaw tic out of my peripheral. I know he’s boiling.

“Your homely duck pout is easy to spot, even at this age. I saw you across the street as what I pictured you to look like as an adult and was curious to know if you made it this far in life. I stopped getting updates on you once my Stuart was taken away.” Her tone drops with disgusted accusation. “You and that Ella girl ruined my Stuart. Destroyed my marriage and the foster side income.” She shakes her head in disgust.

The stale brand of cigarettes on her breath transported me back to the mornings I’d lain in bed and been forced to smell it off Stuart’s.

“He rots in prison while you flaunt around the city, living your best life like a selfish bitch.” Her boldness has grown over the years.

Adam goes to open his mouth, but my thumb pushes against his index finger hard, begging him to keep silent. This is my battle to fight.

Mabel continues, pointing her finger an inch away from my chest. “If you little skanks hadn’t been so tempting, Stuart would have kept interested in me at home.” Her wrinkled lips roll inward as she takes a deep breath. “I knew we should have only fostered little boys.”

I stand paralyzed. With the mention of his name, I feel his skin on mine, his words passing through my ears, and my eyes dart around to look for the poster they stayed glued to in mine and Ella’s room. My teeth grit the way they used to when I’d bite the stuffed bear to keep quiet. Everything comes crashing back as she continues.

“You probably curse Ella every day that she ruined things by getting pregnant. You were still young enough to not have to worry about that happening to you.” Her head vigorously shakes with rage. “Lauren, the selfish bitch who would have kept that daily secret to herself. Stealing my Stuart’s love in hopes of staying at one foster home longer than a few months.”

Adam and I are likely to have bruised hands by the end of this conversation. I feel his rage radiating off him as my childhood truths spill out. He takes a small step forward, and I sense he is ready to say something. I force a swallow and I beat him to it.

“Mabel, I wake every morning and wish I understood back then why Ella and I should have testified against you so you could rot in prison with him.”

“Bold coming from the person who broke up my family. Your arm candy doesn’t talk much.” Her smiles turn my veins to ice as she lifts her purse higher. “I figured you’d end up with someone sporting more muscles than brain cells.” She brushes past us, and before I can blink, she blends in with the passing crowd.

Was that even real? I feel Adam move in front of me as his black shirt blocks off everything else around. Broken clips of flashbacks dance before my eyes. The pain, Stuart’s weight, and his threats rush through me and I feel my lungs closing in. My shoulders weigh a hundred pounds heavier and my head spins. Nausea filters through my gut and up to my throat. I gasp in an attempt to fight the gag that’s forcing itself up. My eyes lock on the nearest garbage can, and for the second time in this city, I empty my stomach. I only wish it was due to the strong smell of the fish market beside us.

Chapter 15

Adam

We don’t say a word heading back to her place. My brain racking through every possibility, hoping that I heard wrong and there is no way that what I am assuming is what actually was implied. This is a situation I actually need details on. Lauren stares ahead as I go through the motions of setting her on the couch and handing her some water, which she refuses. I take it as a win when she allows me to put a blanket over her. She sits wide eyed in a shell-shocked trance for who knows how long. The sun starts to set, casting a golden glow on her blonde hair, making her look like an angel. One who seems to have gone through hell. My stomach knots, threatening its own contents to rise. With a deep breath, I somehow manage to keep it at bay.