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She ended the call, threw the clothes in her bag, and ran out the door.
Minutes before midnight, Birdie pulled up to the 7-Eleven she and Maisie use to stop at for frozen treats, before Creed came into the picture.
Raj was behind the counter helping a customer when she walked inside. He instantly knew who she was, likely from the concern written all over her face and still wearing her waitress uniform.
After the customer left, and the store was empty, he showed her to the back room and quickly returned to the counter as the front door bells jangled with another customer.
Maisie was lying on the floor and on her side. A stack of wet paper towels tinged with blood beside her. She pushed up off the floor, her eyes swollen half shut. Her lips were torn and bleeding, her bloated face reminding Birdie of the Cabbage Patch Doll Maisie loved as a child.
Birdie bent down and pulled out the socks she had stuffed in her bag and carefully put them on each foot, the cuts having started to scab over but painful nonetheless. She was glad she brought a sweatshirt and pants, as Maisie only wore a T-shirt and shorts. She helped Maisie to stand, and gingerly helped her put on the sweatshirt.
“Can you walk to the car?”
She nodded, and Birdie led her out of the room, noticing her sister’s eyes darting around the store for potential enemies or ex-boyfriends.
Raj opened the door to the entrance for them, and Maisie limped by with a whispered, “Thank you.” To which Raj responded, “You take care of yourself, young lady.”
Birdie opened the door to the back seat of the car, and Maisie instantly laid down as if sitting upright a painful and impossible effort.
Leaning forward, her hands white-knuckling the window pane, Birdie said, “Maisie, I really think I should take you to the emergency room.”
“No,” she mumbled, not bothering to lift her head from her arm. “He’ll find me there.”
Birdie sighed and shut the door, hoping she wouldn’t regret listening to her sister. While climbing in the driver’s seat, she heard Maisie say through cracked lips and tears, “I’m so sorry, Birdie.”
Stunned, she nodded in response, thinking that was the first time she could ever remember her sister apologize. To her or anyone else, for that matter.
Turning the key in the ignition, Maisie added, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Birdie put the car in reverse, thinking the “thank-you” from her sister another first, as she pulled onto the road and then the highway.
After a couple miles, she heard Maisie whisper, “The reason he beat me was because I told him I was pregnant and it wasn’t his.”
Birdie drove in silence for over an hour, once again stunned and her mind stumbling over Maisie’s words. And then, at the hundred-mile marker, it hit her like a meteor of a blinding light crashing against her frontal lobe.
She knew who the father was.
* * *
Charlotte,North Carolina
Fifteen Years Ago
Maisie was big as a barn,riddled with heartburn and full of gas the likes of which would melt the bark off a southern oak. As well as taking a one hundred and eighty degree turn around in attitude.
While Birdie worked nights at The Avondale, Maisie stayed home cleaning and taking care of their humble little home and herself.
She cooked meals and did the dishes. Virtually everything that needed to get done, leaving Birdie to concentrate on work and bringing home the proverbial bacon.
It was good.
Almost too good.
After picking Maisie up at the 7-Eleven, they never again mentioned, let alone discussed, the baby’s father. Not a surprise as the Wellborns were never a family with stellar communication skills, least of all Maisie. It didn’t help that after a few days of being in Charlotte, Birdie insisted her sister get her jaw looked at by a doctor, as it was still swollen and causing her quite a bit of pain. Turned out she had a minor jawline fracture and could only eat soft foods until it healed.
Conversations concerning abusive ex-boyfriends and baby daddies were conveniently avoided.
To Birdie’s surprise, Maisie handled it all like a champ. Doing what the doctors told her, her jaw healing in record time and the baby’s growth metrics on track.
