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n my block, there was one woman who was older than the rest of us. Her name was Nancy, but most people called her Mama Nan because she’d been there the longest, which earned her a huge level of respect. She’d been sentenced for dealing drugs, but she used the time to get herself clean. She liked to read and take classes, kind of like me. She took a liking to me and no one messed with me afterward, because they knew she could make life tougher for them. I was lucky.”
I couldn’t help but stare at her. I guess I’d never really given a whole lot of thought behind what went on inside the prison walls. I was a litigator, not a prosecutor or defense attorney, so I wasn’t involved in cases like Maddy’s. But hearing her story helped me understand why she was so defensive and reacted the way she did when touched or in crowds. I stroked the back of my knuckles down her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Madelyn.”
“Thank you. It’s over and I survived, thank God.”
She made a funny noise and tried to cover her mouth, but I could still see her lips twitching. I was surprised. "What's so funny?"
"It's been quite a day. Accosted twice. I never thought I'd say this, but maybe I was safer in prison. At least there I didn't have to watch out for cheating repairmen and flying vegetables," she giggled.
It was hard to believe she could joke about her past. I teasingly tugged on her hair. I pulled back and held out a piece of wet noodle. "Yeah, you can never anticipate hair-eating pasta," I chuckled.
She crinkled up her nose and laughed. “Nothing that won’t be cured with a good shower.”
I squirmed in my seat and pushed the accelerator a little harder.
God bless America. A friend wouldn’t picture himself spreading soap all over her wet, naked body.
13
Maddy
Holt insisted on escorting me to my door, but once there he seemed fidgety while I unlocked the door. I'd asked if he'd like me to take a closer look at the burn on his arm, but he insisted he was fine and wanted to hurry home and clean up. While I believed him, I also sensed he was a bit anxious to put some distance between us.
I couldn't blame him. Drama seemed to follow whenever we were together. I doubted he'd paid attention to where his hand had landed when he tried to pull me away from the crowd, but my body had. A funny flutter still resonated deep inside my pelvic muscles thinking about it. His touch on my breast had startled me at first, but within seconds, the warmth of his hand almost made me forget about the chaos that had surrounded us. I experienced the oddest desire to press further into his touch. Thankfully, the reaction of the crowd surrounding the spill prevented me from doing anything that stupid.
Holt and I seemed to have put aside our confrontational ways. The trouble was, I understood confrontation; I'd dealt with it most of my life. What replaced our spats was much more confusing. I didn't know how to label our new status. Friendship? I wasn't sure I knew how to be friends with a guy. I didn't even have any girlfriends anymore, but I was pretty sure Holt didn't want to sit around and talk about boys or clothes or whatever girls talked about.
I'd never had a boyfriend in school. I was quiet and shy and focused on my studies. There were girls I talked to in class and during lunch, but we each went our own way once the bell rang ending the school day. I'd never really taken the time to develop close friends. Maybe because I hoped I'd be leaving someday. More likely because I was afraid to bring them home in case my father would come home early.
I grudgingly admitted to myself I was attracted to Holt, but chalked it up to the equivalent of a schoolgirl crush on the star athlete. The night he'd brought me home and stayed for dinner was etched in my mind. He'd made me laugh until he asked about my past. Thankfully, he hadn't pressed that issue. But then he'd gone and thanked me for making his evening better and kissed me. It was only a friendly peck on the forehead, a token gesture I was sure, but I still felt the warmth of his mouth as if he'd branded me.
I reached up and grabbed two fistfuls of my hair and sighed. I was being ridiculous. There was no way a man as good-looking as Holt would ever give another glance at me outside of friendship. Any number of beautiful women were more likely to snag his attention, like the one I'd observed on my bus ride. She was more suited to a professional man like Holt. Besides, even if I were able to mimic her looks, he would never choose someone with my record.
Moments later, I stood under a sharp spray of hot water to wash away any remaining vegetable smell. If only washing away the events of the day was just as easy. Not only was I rattled by Seth and the soup debacle, but in my gut, I was certain Misty was going to stir up some kind of trouble at work. I needed to keep an extra eye on her. I rolled my eyes and groaned. Why couldn't life give me a damn break? All I wanted was to avoid drama and move on with my life, even if I hadn't quite figured out what that looked like yet.
Take your time, child. Even a broken clock is right twice a day. You’ll get there.
I sighed. Gammy’s wisdom was often right. Maybe I was putting too much pressure on myself to figure it out all at one time. I rubbed some shampoo into my hair, but that action served to remind me of how Holt had massaged my stinging scalp. At first, I’d been suspicious at being touched, and had to withhold the instinct to hit back. But as his strong fingers and soothing tone broke through my surprise and confusion, I'd allowed myself to enjoy his comforting touch, almost as if I was receiving a lover's caress.
Damn it! Was everything going to start making me think of Holten Andrews?
The water began to grow cold, helping to douse thoughts of Holt. I hurried through the rest of my routine and pulled on a pair of soft pants made to look like jeans and a comfortable sweatshirt since I didn't have anywhere to go that required dressing in something nicer. It wasn't even mid-afternoon. I wasn't scheduled to tutor tonight, so I had a ton of free time on my hands, a concept I still struggled with. I wrinkled my nose as I scooped up my soup-stained clothes from the floor. Laundry was definitely in order later. For now, I needed a more satisfying distraction and decided I'd take my extra time today to whip up some meals for the upcoming week. It was one of my favorite ways to relax.
Several hours later, I had heaps of chocolate chip cookies piled on the counter, a chicken pot pie baking in the oven, and leftover chicken parts simmering on the stove with some vegetables to make soup. I settled in to watch some television while I waited for the food to finish cooking.
A frantic knocking at my door pulled me from a heated argument between family members on a popular talk show. Alarmed, I looked through the peephole saw the top of a head covered with long, black hair. I opened my door a couple of inches, cautiously leaving the chain lock in place. Seeing my frazzled neighbor, I quickly shut the door, undid the chain and reopened the door.
"Serafina! Is everything okay?"
"Please, Maddy. Please you watch Miguel for me for few minutes? I be back quick. He running a fever, and I need go to store and buy some medicine while he sleeps." I noticed the worry lines around her eyes.
"Yes, of course. I'll be right there." I tried to smile reassuringly at her. I turned off everything in the kitchen and a few minutes later I entered her apartment. It was laid out identically to mine and as neat as a pin. The rooms were simply decorated, but still warm and inviting with bright throw blankets and pillows. Miguel was curled up on a couch where he had apparently fallen asleep while watching cartoons.
"I so sorry to ask, Maddy. Mi madre, she is sick, also. I don't know no one else to ask."
"I’m happy to help, Serafina. I happen to be home early today, and I don’t have any plans."
"Si. I see a man bring you home. He is muy guapo, no?" She winked as she grabbed her purse.
