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After I’m done washing and conditioning, I run more water and take the honeysuckle-smelling soap, lathering and rinsing my body three times until my skin squeaks. I don’t care about washing away my body’s oils. I need to feel clean. I saw plenty of moisturizers in the cabinet anyway.
Once I towel off, I use a honeysuckle lotion and pull on the shirt and shorts Mathias gave me. There’s a brand-new toothbrush in the cabinet, so I use it. I comb and plait my hair into two ponytails. The shirt is voluminous, but it still shows how top-heavy I am. Mouse, one of the performers with Russo Circus, told me I’ll be gorgeous when my hips and ass come in. Right now, I just look like a stick with two honeydew melons on the top.
“Ugh,” I say, wishing my hoodie were clean. I hope Mathias doesn’t notice.
After gathering my dirty clothes, I trudge out past the living area to the laundry and deposit the hoodie and sweatpants on the pile. There’s no point in washing anything tonight just so the load can spoil because I’ve fallen asleep.
“Hey,” I say to him, sitting on the far side of the couch.
“Hey.” He barely glances my way, too absorbed inGod of War.
I catch myself falling asleep, but I’m scared he’s going to leave. And what if someone comes? What if they call the police or whoever is in charge of security? What if they notice some strange Black girl on rich white folks’ private property in Alabama? I can’t see that going over well at all.
“I’ll stay on the couch if you want me to,” he says. I could hug him for not making me have to ask.
“Okay,” I say way too fast, sitting up from where I slumped.
“Well, I need to make sure you wake up and don’t change your mind and press charges.” He chuffs, turning the game off and standing. “I’m gonna change. This is a pullout bed.”
I hop up. “I can sleep here. You don’t have to give up your bed.”
“Nah, I always sleep out here.” He goes over to the closet behind a recliner passing picture window with its shutters closed, then pulls out a thick comforter and pillows.
I step back, watching him pull out the bed and fix the covers in short order.
“You go to bed this early?” Skepticism laces my words.
“Hell no, but you’re exhausted, and I know you won’t sleep until you feel safe. Plus, I’ve had a long-ass day too,” he tells me, finally taking off the suit coat and lying it in the chair beside the sofa.
Jeez Louise, he’s even better looking now. Blushing, I turn before he can catch me looking at him.
“Well, okay. Good night.” I wave and hurry down the hall to the room he designated for me.
I am greeted by honeysuckle and softness after I pull back the covers and dive into the bed, barely notice the soft white and beige tones of the room
Wakingup in a strange bed will never not be weird. As much as we traveled, Daddy always managed to keep the little Airstream trailer he’d bought third hand. It was home, tailored to our personalities. Inside, he’d made my little space every little girl’s, then teenager’s, dream. All the pink, purple, and robin’s-egg blue my heart desired. Frilly things and kaleidoscopes of color when I was younger later gave way to more subdued tones because that’s what kept him calm during his episodes.
I want to bury my head in the pillows and sob for the loss of my daddy and the mom I never knew. He did his best even when he battled demons no one else could see. That wasn’t what ended up taking him from me, though. The bitch-ass cancer ate him alive in less than a year after they found a spot on his lungs. He didn’t even smoke.
I sit up, pushing the fresh wave of despair away. I don’t want to feel it. It’s stupid. He was sick. I knew it was too late even when he finally went to the doctor after losing so much weight. I’m an idiot for even crying about it now. Now that I’m safe. But for how long?
I told Mathias I was going to leave today. And go where? I’d have to find out where the Russos are. Then beg to get my job back after I coldcocked Vladimir, the asshole, who gave me no choice. Petre, his dad and the circus owner, would probably say to let bygones be bygones, but the mom, Ingrid, was spitting mad that I’d knocked the spoiled piece of shit she raised the fuck out. I could probably stay with Mouse or one of the other girls, but a lot of them have boyfriends, meaning more than one, and that could get uncomfortable.
I’m thinking about how limited my options are when I get a whiff of bacon. My tummy growls. Yes, I ate like a heathen last night, but it was the first solid meal I’d had since well before my daddy died.
I go use the restroom, wash my face, and brush my teeth, then follow to the smell of the food.
“I knew you’d be out when that aroma got back there to you,” Mathias says, leaning against the counter, drinking a cup of coffee. He changed into a T-shirt and basketball shorts. The same as what he’s given me, only his clothes fit. Mine hang down nearly to my ankles.
“Want some?” he asked, moving to get another mug.
“Sure.” Feeling awkward, I sit at the small table he already set for two.
He sets the mug down, then hands me milk and sugar. “Sorry no half-and-half. I do have praline creamer if you want some.”
“No thanks. Milk is fine” Shaking my head, I doctor up my coffee just how I like.
“Listen, Nikki,” he says, all affability fading away. A grown man has shoved aside the frat boy from last night as if he were never there. “I don’t know what your story is. And you don’t have to tell me. I know you must have come from a pretty tough situation to find yourself down here, of all places. I’m also guessing whatever reunion you planned didn’t go as intended.” He pauses, waiting for me to give him something or anything to go by. I nod for the sake of all the thinking and effort he’s putting in whatever he’s proposing. “I want to help you—”
