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“Ellie?” she calls out but returns seconds later. “She’s not in the living room either. Maybe she went up to her room.” Abigail starts toward the stairs.
“I’ll go check on her,” Tank volunteers. “You’re cooking, and I think Straw’s hankering for more ‘alone time’.” Abigail flushes again, and Tank laughs as he heads up the stairs in search of Ellie. At the top of the stairs, he turns left and takes the few steps to Ellie’s bedroom door. Peering inside he sees that the child isn’t in there. He goes further into her room, seeing her bathroom door is open. But Ellie’s not in there either. Exiting he turns right going down to Straw and Abi’s room after a quick once through, he still hasn’t found Ellie. He hurries back to the stairs. He’s taken a couple of steps down when he hears Ellie giggling. It sounds like it’s coming from the direction of his room. Turning around he heads back up the steps, this time turning right to reach his room.
He notices his bedroom door is partly open. He’s sure he’d shut his door this morning when before he left for base. Pushing open the door, he notices a small brown head bobbing just on the other side of his California king bed. Ellie is chatting to herself as she often does when playing alone. He rounds the bed to see that she’s drawing pictures of rabbits on his wall.
“What are you doing?” Tank demands a little more forcefully than he means to, scaring Ellie. She drops her marker and turns wide-eyed to look at him.
“Oh Uncle Tank!” Ellie’s face lights up in delight when her eyes land on him. “Look at the pretty picture I drew for you. Isn’t it so cute?” He stares at the red and blue scribbles on his cream-colored wall. He looks down at the red permanent marker bleeding color all over his thick plush carpet.
“Fuck,” he mutters, hoping he’s said is softly enough for the innocent ears to not hear him. Ellie’s happy expression falls. Her little brown eyes filling with tears.
“You don’t like my picture?” Ellie’s childlike voice quivers with her tears.
“Yeah, sure I do, munchkin.” Tank hurries to assure the child. “But you’re supposed to color in your coloring book. I don’t think your mama is going to be happy that you’ve colored on the wall.” Tank wants to shift any discomfort Ellie’s feeling off him. He’s happy to throw Abigail under the bus.
“It’s okay Uncle Tank.” Ellie perks up again. “Momma got me washing markers. We can wash this off and momma’ll never know.” Ellie beams up at him. He hates to turn that smile upside down, but Ellie needs to know those aren’t ‘washing’ markers. He doesn’t want to have to repaint their whole house.
“Munchkin, where did you get those markers?” Tank asks her as he nods to the offensive markers staining his carpet. He moves closer bending down to pick them up and place the caps on them.
“I found them in the desk downstairs,” Ellie replies innocently. “They color better than the ones I was using on my color book.” Tank groans. Ellie’s been in the downstairs office the adults use to pay bills, and Abigail has been working on posters for the bulletin board at the shelter.
“Little girl, those aren’t washing markers,” Tank tells her sternly. “Those markers are for grownups. You should have asked your mama before getting them.” Ellie’s eyes fill up with tears again. He bends down to scoop the child up in his arms. He can’t keep from trying to comfort her.
“I-I’m sorry, Uncle Tank,” Ellie cries as he carries her from his room and down the stairs to her mother. “I d-didn’t know.” Ellie buries her head into the crook of his neck. He rubs his hand down her back, making soothing sounds trying to calm the little girl. Straw and Abigail come running at the sound of Ellie’s crying. They meet Tank at the bottom of the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” Straw asks with concern. Abigail hurrying ahead of him reaching for Ellie. The child is plastered to Tank, not wanting to let go.
“I found her drawing pictures for me,” Tank informs the couple, “on my bedroom walls with these.” Tank holds up the markers. Abigail’s face goes pale. Straw’s eyes go wide as he takes in the markers for a second, then he bursts out laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Tank glares at him. He’s no longer upset with Ellie, but Straw finding his walls decorated in child art is not going to sit well with Tank. “Not funny, man.” Tank growls at Straw, who only laughs harder.
“Oh Tank, I’m so sorry,” Abigail begins, her eyes are also filling with tears. “I’ll hire someone to repaint your walls. I can’t believe…Ellie! You know you’re not supposed to get into my things without asking first.” Ellie raises her head, her face red, eyes swollen, tears still streaming down her face.
“I sorry, Momma!” Ellie wails. Her little body jerks with sobs. Tank again begins to soothe her, and she buries her face in his neck again.
“It’s okay, munchkin.” Tank finds himself cooing to the child. “I’m not mad. I know you didn’t know it wouldn’t wash off. Don’t cry.” As Ellie continues to cry, his heart is breaking. “Come on, please stop crying. You’re going to make Uncle Tank cry. You don’t want me to cry, do you?” Ellie raises her head, still snubbing, but shakes her head to the negative. “Okay then, you stop those tears.” Tank wipes her chubby little cheeks and uses the hem of his t-shirt to wipe away the large amount of snot streaming from her nose. Once he’s satisfied that Ellie’s no longer crying her eyes out, Tank looks back at Straw and Abi. Straw is grinning at him like a fool. Abi on the other hand is staring at him with her mouth hanging open. Apparently shocked that the beast can be gentle when needed.
* * *
No,he could never stay mad at Ellie. The child is a treasure. One Tank is very thankful to have gotten to know and have in his life. He actually didn’t allow Abi to have his walls repainted. Whenever he’s feeling down, he looks at the little red and blue rabbit family hopping along his wall. They make him smile every time he sees them.
The men climb into Tank’s truck. He recently purchased the Toyota Tundra pick-up. Abigail has been driving Straw’s SUV while saving money for her own vehicle. Tank had been thinking about getting a pickup anyway, so he made the purchase. Straw has offered he buy Tank’s SUV from him and Tank has agreed. This way all of them will have a set of wheels if they need them. The men head toward Ellie’s school to collect the hellions as Straw calls them. Pulling out of the parking lot, Tank looks around trying to see if he can catch a glimpse of Ruby. He really wishes she hadn’t run from him. She might be used to being on the streets fending for herself, but Tank intends to put that to an end, with any luck, sooner rather than later.
9
RUBY
Ruby settles onto a cot pulling the blanket up over her shoulders. It might be getting cold outside, but Jolene keeps the temperature comfortable inside the shelter. Ruby sighs as she tries to find sleep, but her mind is racing with the events of the day. The meeting had been interesting to say the least. She’d been anxious about meeting all the women– at first, but they’d all been so kind and friendly. She’d finally gotten comfortable around them only to come back with coffee to find the room filled with big burly men.
Ruby turns onto her left side, letting out a huge sigh. Tank. The big man had driven her to distraction during the meeting, causing her to look foolish when Jolene had asked her a question. Then he had the audacity to demand she allow him to put his number into her non-existent phone. As if she would call him for anything. Freaking arrogant man. She doesn’t even know him. Yet he apparently expects she will fall down at his feet and let him be her savior. Nope, not happening.
She has to admit the man is a sexy beast, but that’s why he is so dangerous. She can’t afford to be distracted by his looks, his kindness, or anything else he tries to throw at her. She has to keep herself to herself. That way no one gets hurt, physically or otherwise. Ruby flops onto her right side. Sighing again as sleep continues to elude her.
“Hey, are you okay?” a female voice whispers from the cot next to her. Ruby peers over at the woman lying on the cot. The woman appears to be much older than Ruby’s twenty-six years. Her hair is graying, and she has wrinkles marring her face. Ruby thinks that once up on a time, she was likely a very lovely woman, but time and living on the streets has faded her beauty.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ruby answers. It’s not really lying. Physically she’s fine, but her mental state, that’s a whole different ballgame entirely. She hasn’t been fine in that department in more than six years, but she’s attempting to not think about that at the moment. She’s let herself remember too much about her past today already. She’s not going to allow herself to waste more of what’s left of the day thinking about it.
“You don’t seem fine,” the woman accuses. “I know it’s tough being in here, but it can be much worse. You’re young and very pretty. You need to find yourself a good man to take care of you. Then you won’t have to stay in places like this any longer. Trust me, when you get to be my age, there aren’t any men that’ll be interested in taking care of you.” Ruby sniffs at the woman’s assessment of Ruby’s situation.
“I don’t want nor need a man to take care of me,” Ruby declares. “I can take care of myself. Good night.” Ruby flips back onto her left side, dismissing the woman and her assumption that Ruby needs someone to take care of her.
