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Porsche was all over the place. Her bipolar had her in a strong mania and she was running around like a chicken with her head cut off. She had been on momma duty for a week now and wasn’t handling it very well. Not wanting to be foggy had her forgetting her pills even when she knew she needed them to not go spinning wildly with Sydney. Anytime she was out of her sight had Porsche on pins and needles. And here she was wanting to camp outside of Dreamer’s classroom just in case there was an emergency and she needed to be there.
At the Roadhouse trying to work on the song line up for the men for the Friday night revue had her pen bouncing up and down almost as much as her knee under the table. While they could repeat on Saturday and Sunday, part of her wondered if since it was a revue they could tell a story, not just dance. Wasn’t that want they were supposed to do anyway? At least the place didn’t have a lot of patrons since technically she was supposed to be waitressing.
After writing everything down and getting the songs picked for each man she realized she missed breakfast, having cooked for Sydney, but not herself and lunch had passed since the music was slowly increasing in volume and the rush had died down. Hungry and tired she walked toward the kitchen to order something to eat.
Glancing down at her phone she realized it was after three o’clock and she was late picking up Sydney from school. Damn it she would have to speed up the street to get her.
Forgetting about food she ran to her car and jumped behind the steering wheel knocking her knee into the dashboard.
“Ouch, fuck that hurt,” she cried out only to see blood dripping down her shin. Somehow she’d managed to slam into the corner of the console and hit it so hard she split her knee open. Grabbing a tissue she held it to her leg and quickly put the car into drive.
One handed she whipped a U and attempted to drive with one hand finding it more difficult than she expected. The parking lot was pretty open as she somehow accomplished getting there in one piece. The former community school, turned community center, and now a co-facility where Dreamer started an open concept type of learning harkening back to the days of the one room schoolhouse. The building a deep red brick with parts from the original one built in the early nineteen hundreds had an extension added on in the fifties for a gym and more classrooms. Now the big glass windows on the backside were covered with kid art calling for the flowers of spring and on the back steps Dreamer sat holding Sydney’s hand with baby Olivia in a carrier rocking from Dreamer’s leg bobbing.
Jumping out of the car Porsche ran to her as if she’d been a month late picking her up not twenty minutes. The hard part was the school was small, most kids walked with only a few being picked up and that took less than five minutes unless Dreamer needed to talk to a parent. Being the last wasn’t supposed to be more than a minute and here Sydney was crying, Porsche dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around the little girl
“Oh, Syd I’m so sorry I’m late picking you up.”
Her stomach turned and tightened. Dreamer may not have been judging her, but it didn’t mean Porsche couldn’t feel the judgment burning the back of her neck. Every part of her wanted to be swallowed up and disappear, but she had a little girl who needed her. No longer did she have the right to think only of herself or her needs. Sydney trumped every single necessity to life.
“I thought—that—you—had forgotten—me.” Syd gulped out trembling tears as she squeezed Porsche so tight.
“Never baby girl. I would never forget you.” She leaned back to take Syd’s face in her hands, her eyes and nose red from the tears.
“I told you Syd, Porsche probably got caught up helping other people,” Dreamer said, giving her a mournful smile.
The two of them had their shared past haunting them. Both taken, both reunited, and right now Dreamer was the one she wanted as counsel in it all. They’d both been victims of Clive. Dreamer longer and where there was sadness there was also hope. She’d given hope and freedom back to Porsche by coming to Montana. Even with the man trying one last time to claim them both they prevailed.
“You know what I hear in your words, Syd?” Porsche asked, smoothing the tears from the little girl’s cheeks with shaking hands. “You weren’t scared of being with Ms. Meadow.”
Syd turned back to the red headed saint in her flowery skirt and light sweater.
“She helped me with my times tables.”
“Those are very important.”
“And the gold rule in the class, she taught me that too.”
“The golden rule,” Dreamer corrected. “We have some special students in the class and with them being all ages it’s always important to think before we speak isn’t it, Sydney?”
The little girl nodded and leaned in to whisper in Porsche’s ear. “No one even asks about my mommy or daddy. They just say they want to be my friend.”
“Of course they do,” Porsche replied.
“And they don’t touch me cuz I said it hurts my skin and belly,” she said. “And no one made fun of me like at my old school. Turbo, I don’t have to go back to my old school do I?”
“Not as long as I have a say,” Porsche assured as Dreamer’s head tilted to the side with a questioning look.
“Turbo?” she asked softly.
“It’s what my Daddy calls Ms. Porsche, I forgot I’m not supposed to call her that when we’re not in the trailer.” Sydney turned back to Porsche with worry and tears about to fall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“You’re fine,” she assured, giving reassuring strokes over her hair. “All you did was let Ms. Meadow know how important I am to you and that makes my heart warm.”
Syd climbed into the car and Porsche buckled her into the booster chair she had bought just for this little girl. There was no way she was going to compromise her safety when she hauled her around.
“I shouldn’t have cried,” Syd said, her head bobbling a bit as she spoke. “I just—I just—No one was mean to me, but when I was sitting there and didn’t see you—”
“Hey, I know I’ve been early all week and then I’m not only late I’m really late,” she said. Over compensating had her going from getting there an hour before the bell to thirty minutes, but that had stolen valuable time she had for the fundraiser. Everyone else was doing their part, teaching the men moves and posting everywhere to tempt and tease the audience. And she was sitting outside a school staring at a door practically sprinting the moment the flash of blonde hair from Syd was visible.
